Mr. Trim shut his eyes and nodded to Miriam, as much as to say, "I know all about it;" then asked how she liked sitting.
"I do not sit to Mr. O'Reilly," she replied in a tone of ice.
"Now, Ma'am, I call that cruel, to deprive our friend--"
"Mr. O'Reilly has never asked me to sit to him."
"But you know I mean to do so when I have finished my Stolen Child," said Cornelius, whose look vainly sought hers.
"Allow me to suggest a subject," rather eagerly said Mr. Trim: "if it won't do, you need not mind, you know. Did you ever read 'The Corsair,'
Ma'am?"
"Yes," impatiently replied Miss Russell.
"Then what do you say to Medora?"
"Medora, my favourite heroine!" exclaimed Cornelius; "that is not a bad idea, Trim."
He looked at his betrothed; she was looking at Mr. Trim, who, as usual, was in a state of blindness.
"Medora in her bower," he resumed, "or parting from Conrad, or watching for his return--do you object, Ma'am?"
"Not if you will sit for Conrad," she replied, her eyes beaming scorn on his ungainly person.
"But Mr Trim is not like the print of Conrad," I put in pertly, "and Cornelius is, is he not, Kate?"
Mr. Trim laughed; Kate gave me a severe look and rang for tea. Our guest rose; Miss O'Reilly civilly asked him to stay; but he declined, he had an engagement, he said. Scarcely had the street door closed upon him, when he knocked again. Deborah opened, and his head soon appeared at the parlour door.
"Dreadful memory!" he said, chuckling, "quite forgot Byron; Smalley was rather shocked at some passages, and says you are to read his notes on Manfred."
"Daisy, go and take that book from Mr. Trim," said Kate.
I rose, went up to him, and held out my hand for the volume. He stretched out his arm, caught me, lifted me up, and attempted to kiss me. As I saw his face bending towards mine, I slapped it with all my might, and cried out, "Cornelius!"
"Put that child down," said his somewhat stern voice behind us.
Mr. Trim put me down as if he had been shot. I ran to Cornelius, who looked dark and displeased, and clung to him for protection.
"Like him best--eh, Daisy?" said Mr. Trim, trying to laugh it off, "he is Conrad, eh? but I have no Medora. You foolish thing! why it is only a joke--who minds me?"
"Do not be alarmed, Daisy," observed Cornelius, addressing me, but giving Mr. Trim an expressive look; "Mr. Trim will never do it again."
"Catch me at it!" rather sulkily answered our visitor, rubbing his cheek as he spoke, "I have enough of such valiant damsels. Well, well," he added, relapsing into his usual manner, "no malice; good night, I am glad to see you so happy and comfortable. God bless you all!" He cast a sullen look around the room, and vanished.
Cornelius said nothing; but there was a frown on his brow, and he bit his nether lip like one who chafed inwardly. He led me back to my place on the sofa, and, sitting down by me, did his best to soothe me.
"Why, Daisy," merrily said Kate, "I did not know you had half so much spirit."
I hid my burning face on the shoulder of her brother.
"Never mind, child." she resumed, "he won't begin again."
"I should like to see him." observed Cornelius.
I looked up to say aloud--
"Cornelius won't let him, will you, Cornelius?"
He smoothed my ruffled hair and vowed no Trim ever should kiss me against my will.
"Come, come," put in Kate, "she is only a child."
"Child or not, he shan't kiss her," muttered Cornelius.
"Nonsense!"
"Nonsense! I tell you, Kate, that the child does not like it, nor I either." He spoke sharply.
"You do not look as if you did," said the chilling voice of Miriam.
She had beheld all that had passed with her usual indifference, and now sat leaning back in the angle of the sofa, looking at us with calm attention. Cornelius turned round and replied quietly--
"You are quite right. Miriam, I do not like it."
The entrance of Deborah interrupted the conversation. After tea Cornelius played and sang. Miriam left early.
CHAPTER XIV.
On the following morning, Kate sent me up my breakfast as usual, and accompanied it with a message that I was not to think of rising before twelve. But I felt strong again; besides I was eager to surprise Cornelius; I hastily donned the ragged attire of the Stolen Child and ran up to the studio. I entered abruptly, then stood still.
In the centre of the room stood Miriam, clad in strange attire. A white robe fell to her feet; a blue cashmere scarf was wrapped around her fine person; her fair hair was braided back from her face; her arms, as beautiful as those of an antique statue, were as bare. Cornelius stood looking at her with eager delight, and never noticed my entrance.
"I am not sure," he said, "that the costume is correct, but I know I never saw even you look so beautiful!"
She smiled, and sank down on the low couch, with negligent grace. One arm fell loosely by her side, the other supported her cheek.
"Do not stir," eagerly cried Cornelius: "that is the very attitude! Oh!
Miriam, what a glorious picture it will make!" and walking round her, he surveyed her keenly.
"You think of nothing but your pictures," she said, impatiently.
"Why do you tempt me? Just allow me to move your left arm."
With chilling indifference, she passively allowed him to move her beautiful arms at his pleasure.