"Thank you," she said; "but pray do not do that again. It is a
little humiliating to be lifted like a child. You are very strong."

"There is not much strength needed to lift such a feather-weight as
you. Seven stone two, I should judge you to be, about. But there's a
great art in doing these things properly. I have often had to carry
off a man of fourteen stone, resting him all the time as if he was
in bed."

"Ah," said Lydia; "I see you have had some hospital practice. I have
often admired the skill with which trained nurses handle their
patients."

Cashel made no reply, but, with a sinister grin, followed her to
where Alice sat.

"It is very foolish of me, I know," said Alice, presently; "but I
never can draw when any one is looking at me."

"You fancy that everybody is thinking about how you're doing it,"
said Cashel, encouragingly. "That's always the way with amateurs.
But the truth is that not a soul except yourself is a bit concerned
about it. EX-cuse me," he added, taking up the drawing, and
proceeding to examine it leisurely.

"Please give me my sketch, Mr. Byron," she said, her cheeks red with
anger. Puzzled, he turned to Lydia for an explanation, while Alice
seized the sketch and packed it in her portfolio.

"It is getting rather warm," said Lydia. "Shall we return to the