Hide and Seek

enough to receive company in her room, Valentine sent the promised

rves a word of preliminary notice. It formed the narrow world which

d in her room, was so arranged as to offer her the most perfect comfort and luxury attainable in her suffering condition. The framework was broad enough to include within its dimensions a couch for day and a bed for night. Her reading easel and work-table could be moved within reach, in whatever position she lay. Immediately above her hung an extraordinary complication of loose cords, which ran through ornamental pulleys of the quaintest kind, fixed at different places in the ceiling, and communicating with the bell, the door, and a pane of glass in the window which opened easily on hinges. These were Valentine's own contrivances to ena

s with his pictures; to rectify in time any omission of which Mr. Blyth or Madonna might be guilty in making the dinner arrangements, or in sending orders to tradespeople; to keep the servants attentive to their work, and to indulge or control them, as the occasion might require. Neither by look nor manner did she betray any of the sullen listlessness or fretful impatience sometimes attendant on long, incurable illness. Her voice, low as its tones were, was always cheer

through all affliction and change to the girlish image of its first worship, still affectionately exacted from her as much attention to the graces and luxuries of dress as she might have bestowed on them of her own accord, in the be

ments were concerned, Valentine put the finishing touch to his preparations as the clock struck; and perching himself gaily on a corner of Mr

check off all the drawing things one after another, to make sure tha

h-silence that others might approach, but might never enter-gave a touching significance to the deep, meditative stillness that often passed over her suddenly, even in the society of her adopted parents, and of friends who were all talking around her. Sometimes, the thoughts by which she was thus absorbed-thoughts only indicated to others by the shadow of their mysterious presence, moving in the expression that passed

dopted mother; who, passing one arm round her neck, explained to her, by means of the

isquisitions, witty sayings, curious stories, are conveyed to their minds by sympathizing friends and relatives, as a matter of course; but the little chatty nothings of everyday talk, which most pleasantly and constantly employ our speaking and address our hearing faculties, are thought too slight and fugitive in their nature to be worthy of tra

luding influences of her calamity, while in the society of others, by keeping her well informed of every one of the many conversations, whether jesting or earnest, that were held in her presence, in the

on his left thumb. "First, there's the statue that all my students are to draw from-the Dying Gladiator. Secondly, the drawing-boards and paper. Thirdly, the black and white chalk. Fourthly,-where are the port-crayons to hold the chalk

he Venus de' Medici-the same copy which Zack had honored with his most superlative exaggeration of praise, at his last visit to the studio. She had not since forgotten, or altered her purpose of making him a present of the drawing which he had admired so much. It had been finished with the utmost ca

copy, her pale kind face beaming with the quiet merriment that overspread it, M

lentine who this is a present for?"

work of her own hands had undergone some transformation which made her doubt whether she was any longer privileged to look at it. She shook her head in r

tincts extracted from Madonna's confusion; "but you must like him very much, love, to

hair, her fingers working more and more nervously amid the fri

ter placing the drawing again under the coverl

he comes in. It is sure to make him happy for the

ness in the faint smile that wavered about her lips; such a sadness of innocent beauty in her face, now growing a shade paler than it was wont to be, that Mrs. Blyth's expression became serious the instant their eyes met. She drew the girl forward and kissed her. The kiss was returned many times, with a passionate w

artled and grieved as she withdrew her hand wet with tears, after trying vainly to raise the girl's face from th

k, as he let it bang to after entering, Madonna instantly started up a

rds the fireplace. After the lapse of a few minutes Madonna turned round and came back to the couch. The traces of tears had almost entirely disappeared from her face. She made a little appealing gesture that aske

g, succeeded by a burst of giggling from the housemaid, who presently ascended to Mrs. Blyth's room alone, and ent

aster Zack's down stairs on the landing, and he says you're to be so kind as put on these things (he's puttin

and make a fighting man of you, last time I was here, you know. Come on! I only want to op

listic energies that had been imparted to them by their last wearer. Mrs. Blyth burst out laughing, Valentine followed her example

ame in with his boxing-gloves fitted on. "How are you, Blyth? These are the pills for that sluggish old liver of yours that you

master of the new drawing-school. "Take off those things directly! What do you mean, sir, by co

r master's dressing-room, and put them in the drawer where his clean shirts are, because they must be kept nice and dry. Shake hands, Mrs. Blyth: it does one good to see you laugh like that, you look so much

assuming his most despotic voice, and leading the di

ing a face-I'm afraid he isn't quite well. I say, Blyth, is that the statue of an an

nd give her the drawing-board. Wait a minute, Lavvie! Let me prop you up comfortably with the pillows before you begin. There! I never saw a more beautiful effect of light and shade, my dear, than there is on your view of the model. Has everybody got a port-crayon and

the black? The black-eh? Do I start with the what's his name's wry face? and if so, where am I to begi

about his own person. "Then measure with the eye, assisted occasionally by the port-crayon, the proportion of the parts. Then put dots on the paper; a dot where his head comes; a

ve and confident look at the Dying Gladiator, and drawing a huge half circle, with a p

he paper, instead of drawing them. Now, break off a bit of that bread-crumb, and rub out what you have done. 'Buy a penny loaf, and rub it all out

e line on copper, like you could on paper. We all thought he never would get that print done, he used to groan over it so in the front drawing-room, where he was then at work. And the publishers paid him infamously, all in bills, which he had to

, I used, of course, to think it necessary to check the tradespeople, and see that their Total was right. You will hardly believe me, but I don't remember ever making the sum what the shop made it, on more than about three occasions. And, what was worse, if I tried a second time, I could not even get it to agree with what I had made it myself the first time. Thank Heaven, I've no difficulties of that sort to grapple wi

tried it a dozen times, and I fin

fresh piece of chalk. No; wait a minute. Come here first, and see how Madonna is striking in the figure; the front view of it, remember, which is the most difficult. She hasn't worked as fa

ight, after all, not remember it, or not care to have it when it was given to him. And as her thoughts wandered, so her eyes followed them. Now she stole an anxious, inquiring look at Mrs. Blyth, to see if her hand was straying towards the hidden drawing. Now she glanced shyly at Zack-only by moments at a time, and only when he was hardest at work with his port-crayon-to assure herself that

equal it," continued the young gentleman, scrawling this uncompromising expression of opinion on the bla

drawing as their eyes met. He was sent back to his place by Valentine before he could write anything more. She took some of the bread-crumb near her to rub out what he had written-h

despair. "The fact is, I don't think drawing's my forte. It's color, depend upon it. Only wait till I come to th

ing to end; if it didn't force out all the fine points in a man's character as soon as he takes to it. Just eight o'clock," continued Valentine

er hand under the coverlid of the couch, "I can't get Madonna to look at m

ight, for you have shown yourself the most promising of my pupils. Come here, Zack, and see what Mrs. Blyth

, bustled up to the couch directly. As he approached, Madonna tried to get back to her former position at the fireplace, but w

twenty different ways in a minute, just as they're doing now. She may not be so like Raphael's pictures at such times, I dare say (here he yawned once more); but

ing her hold of Madonna with one hand, and producing th

Valentine, interposing with his usual readiness,

ck, coolly; his slippery memory not having preserved the s

has finished it!" pursued Valentine, gently patting Madonn

bly repeated Zack, rising from his chair, and looking rather perplexed

e would never have any of her drawings framed

ike the Venus de' Medici, eh? If it is, I object to the riddle, because she's a deal prettier than any plaster face that ever was made. Your f

t his mistakes, for he made two in expressing one short sente

tine, dear, it's the easiest thing in the world to guess what she has had the drawing fra

ly in his chair, resting his head on the back rail, a

at your head, instead of giving it to yo

t to me!" exclaimed Zack, starting from his c

s long ago!" retorted Mrs. Blyth. "Have you forgotten how you praised that

nviction. "Tell her on your fingers, Mrs. Blyth, how proud I am of my present. I can't do it with mine, because I can't let go of the drawing. Here, look he

looked up-with innocent, childish pleasure, that affected no reserve, dreaded no misconstruction, foreboded no disappointment. Her eyes, turning quickly from Zack, and appealing gaily to Valentine, beamed with triumph when he pointed to the drawing, and smilingly raised his hands in astonishment, as a sign that he had been pleasantly su

n my life. Tell her I'll hang it up in my bed-room, where I can see it every morning as soon as I wake. Have you told her that?-or shall I write it on her slate? Hullo! here comes the tea. And, by heavens, a whole bagful of muffins! What!!! the kitchen fire's too black to toast them. I'll undertake the whole lot in the drawing academy. Here, Patty, give us the toasting-fork: I'm

however, guided his hand at the same moment to the drawing. He took it up carefully, and placed it on a low bookcase at the opposite side of the room. If an

tebanks of the traveling circus. So she stood, looking towards the fireplace and the figure kneeling at it, bearing her new disappointment just as she had borne many a former mortification that had tried her sorely while she was yet a little child. How carefully she had labored at that neglected drawing in the secrecy of her own room! How happy she had been in anticipating the moment when it would be given to young Thorpe; in imagining what he would say on receiving it, and how he would communicate his thanks to her; in wondering what he

onable thoughtlessness. Her face flushed, her dark eyes sparkled, as he turned quickly on her couch towards the fire-place. But, before she could utter a word, Madonna's han

! I would not have you speak

ked next at Zack. Just at that moment he was turning his muffin and singing louder than ever. The temptation to startle him out of his provoking gaiety by a good sharp reproof was almost too strong to be resisted; but Mrs. Blyth forced hers

you, my love, I promise not to speak to him about it.

olor, nor her lips the smile that had been playing on them earlier in the evening; but she arranged Mrs. Blyth's pillow even more carefully th

nged his accompanying song from "Rule Britannia" to the "Lass o' Gowrie," when the hollow, ringing sound of rapidly-running wheels pene

lentine; "who can be coming to see us so late, on

ass o' Gowrie,'" sang Zack, combining the original text of his song

when the door opens," said Mrs. Blyth, glad to seize the sligh

at last for that picture of mine that he has

. "Or that infernal old Yollop, with his gooseberry eyes and his hands full of tracts. They're both of t

in, whoever it is. It can't be Mr. Gimble, Vale

ss than sixteen stone, I should say, by the step," rem

mbledown come to worry you again about

her word, the door opened; and, to the utter amazement of everybody bu

PECK