So they were, in a most artistic confusion, which I remedied with great alacrity. When we went down to breakfast, Kate, who had seen with pleasure that I had not of late been so much with her brother, asked, with some asperity, "if I was again going to settle myself upstairs."
"Precisely," replied Cornelius, and with great ardour and enthusiasm he told her of his intended picture. "Such an admirable subject,--not at all so commonplace as the 'Happy Time.'"
Miss O'Reilly was horrified at the prospect of Gipsy sitters, and prophesied the utter ruin of her household. Cornelius laughed at her fears, and promised to keep such strict watch that no disaster could possibly occur. The Gipsy couple came the same day--a wild, restless- looking pair, who tried to the utmost the patience of Cornelius, and gave me many an odd, shy look as they saw me take my attitude, in the costume, more picturesque than attractive, of an old brown skirt, torn and made ragged for the purpose; a shabby bodice; my hair loose and tangled, and my neck, arms, and feet bare. They were very wilful, too, and had on the subject of attitudes ideas which differed materially from those of Cornelius. At length the group was formed, and in this first sitting he could take a rapid sketch of it, "just to fix the idea of it in his mind," he observed to Kate at tea-time; "they were a little restless for the first time, but I have no doubt we shall get on very well, though you looked rather afraid of that swarthy fellow, Daisy."
"I did not like his eyes--nor those of his wife either, Cornelius."
"Why, there is a tea-spoon missing," hastily observed Kate, who had been holding a conference at the door with Deborah; "you had not one in the studio, had you, Cornelius?"
He rose precipitately, left the room, and in a few minutes, came down with a melancholy face.
"There was one and there is not one," he said, sadly,--"the perfidious wretches!"
"I shall send the police after them," warmly cried Kate.
"Will the police make them sit to me again?" impatiently asked Cornelius.
"Indeed I hope not," indignantly replied his sister.
"To leave me in such a predicament for the sake of a miserable tea- spoon!" he observed, feelingly.
"A miserable tea-spoon! one of the dozen that has been fifty years in the family, with our crest, a hawk's head, upon it too! I am astonished at you, Cornelius; a miserable tea-spoon! you speak as if you had been born with a silver spoon in your mouth!"
Cornelius sighed profoundly by way of reply; but even so tender a disappointment could not weigh long on his cheerful temper.
"After all," he philosophically observed, "they left me my idea."
"I wish the tea-spoon had been an idea," shortly said Kate.
"Well, I wish it had," placidly replied her brother; "but I have at least the consolation of having hit on the very characters I wanted--arrant thieves."
"Indeed you did, Cornelius."
"I remember their features quite well, and shall without scruple consider and paint them too as the real abductors of Daisy; for it stands to reason that she would not be here now if they had only found some decent opportunity of abstracting her."
"Or if she had only been a tea-spoon!" sighed Kate.
"This incident will be of the greatest use to me," gravely continued Cornelius; "it will enable me to enter thoroughly into the spirit of the picture story."
This was rather too much for Kate. But Cornelius bore her reproaches with great serenity, and found another motive of consolation in the fact that I, the principal figure, being always under his hand, it really was not so bad after all.
Happy were the three weeks that followed. Cornelius had acquired great facility and worked hard; I sat to him nearly all the day long; we rested together, and he then put by his own fatigue to cheer and amuse me. It was to me as if Miriam had never existed. Cornelius by no means forgot her, but even a man in love may think of other things besides his mistress, and a new picture on the easel was the most dangerous rival Miriam could dread in the heart of her betrothed. They wrote to one another daily; every morning Cornelius consecrated a quarter of an hour to love, then devoted himself heart and soul to his task; and I--as sharing in that task--occupied, I believe, a greater share of his thoughts and feelings than even his beautiful mistress.
One morning indeed, when the postman did not bring him his usual letter, he looked quite mournful, and began his labour with the declaration "that it was no use--he could not work," but after a quarter of an hour his brow had cleared and he was wholly absorbed in his task. He worked until we were both tired, he with painting, I with sitting; he then threw himself on the low couch, and wanted me to sit by him and talk as usual, but I said he looked drowsy.
"So I am, you little witch."
"Then pray sleep awhile."
"No, I should sleep too long."
"Shall I awaken you?"
"You could not."
"Indeed I could, Cornelius."
"Promise not to mind my entreaties."
"I shall not mind them, Cornelius."
"Then take my watch, your poor father's present, Daisy, and wake me in a quarter of an hour."
He closed his eyes, and, having the happy faculty of sleeping when he liked, he was soon in deep slumber. I sat by him, the watch in one hand, the other resting on the cushion which pillowed his head; I neither moved nor spoke until the quarter of an hour was over, then, without a second's grace, I called him up.
"Five minutes more," he drowsily entreated.
"Not five seconds. I wish you would wake up, Cornelius, or I shall have to pinch you or pull your hair."
"Pull and pinch, so you only let me sleep."
Of course I did not pinch; but I pulled one of his raven locks with sufficient force.
"Little barbarian!" he exclaimed, "what do you mean by such usage?"
"I mean to waken you, Cornelius."
"And why so?" he asked, to obtain that second's delay which is so delightful to the sleeper.
"Oh, Cornelius! how can you ask? Must you not work to become a great artist, paint fine pictures, and become famous?"
"Very true!" he exclaimed, starting up; "thank you, Daisy, you are a faithful friend." And in rising, he passed his arm around my neck and kissed me. But even as he did so, I saw his glance light suddenly; I turned round, Miriam was standing on the threshold of the open door looking at us. I sighed: my three weeks' happiness was over.
CHAPTER XIII.
Cornelius received Miriam with a flushed brow and eager look that betrayed the joy of his heart. And yet with what indolent calmness she let him clasp her hand in his, and stood in the centre of the room, looking at him with an abstracted smile! In answer to his eager inquiries she composedly answered--
"Yes, my aunt is better and I am quite well. Just arrived? no--I came back this morning."
"And I never knew it!"
"And never guessed it from not receiving the letter! I am come up to scold you. Your sister says you take no rest."
"I had been sleeping when you came in."