"It's your duty, Madam," said Mr. King, sternly, at which she shrank
down farther in her chair. "Who knows what such talent will do in the
world? and it's my duty to see that it is kept alive,--nothing more nor
less than a question of duty."

He stamped up and down the room vehemently, and the little old lady
protesting that she wanted to do her duty,--she was sure she always
did,--the hardest part was over, and old Mr. King chuckled to himself
triumphantly.

"And now," cried Polly, in a transport, when the first surprise was
over, and everybody had settled down to the quiet enjoyment of it all,
"we've really and truly got a celebrated artist all to ourselves," and
she drew herself up in pride.

"I'm not celebrated yet," said Adela, with two little red spots on her
cheeks, and with happy eyes on her grandmother. "You had better wait
till I am."

"Oh, well; you will be," said Polly, confidently, "sometime, and then
we can say 'yes, we knew her when she was a girl,' and we'll go to
picture-galleries the same as we do here, and see your name stuck up in
the corners of the very best ones, Adela."




XVI

"LET US FLY AT THOSE BOOKS"