attempt to answer her. Indeed she gave him no time. He could only spring
after her to open the door for her. A more than respectful bow as she left
the room was his only adieu. But when he turned his face again towards me,
it expressed even a degree of consternation.

"I fear," he said, approaching me with an almost military step, much at
variance with the shadow upon his countenance, "I fear I have been rude to
Miss Walton, but nothing was farther--"

"You mistake entirely, Mr. Percivale. I heard all you were saying, and you
were not in the least rude. On the contrary, I consider you were very kind
to take the trouble with her you did. Allow me to make the apology for my
daughter which I am sure she will wish made when she recovers from the
disappointment of finding more obstacles in the way of her favourite
pursuit than she had previously supposed. She is only too ready to lose
heart, and she paid too little attention to your approbation and too
much--in proportion, I mean--to your--criticism. She felt discouraged and
lost her temper, but more with herself and her poor attempts, I venture
to assure you, than with your remarks upon them. She is too much given to
despising her own efforts."

"But I must have been to blame if I caused any such feeling with regard to
those drawings, for I assure you they contain great promise."

"I am glad you think so. That I should myself be of the same opinion can be
of no consequence."

"Miss Walton at least sees what ought to be represented. All she needs is
greater severity in the quality of representation. And that would have
grown without any remark from onlookers. Only a friendly criticism is