"Few artists can afford such long holidays as he is taking."
"He is laying in stock, though, I suppose," answered my wife.
"I doubt that, my dear. He said not, on one occasion, you may remember."
"Yes, I remember. But still he must paint better the more familiar he gets
with the things God cares to fashion."
"Doubtless. But I am afraid the work of God he is chiefly studying at
present is our Wynnie."
"Well, is she not a worthy object of his study?" returned Ethelwyn, looking
up in my face with an arch expression.
"Doubtless again, Ethel; but I hope she is not studying him quite so much
in her turn. I have seen her eyes following him about."
My wife made no answer for a moment. Then she said,
"Don't you like him, Harry?"
"Yes. I like him very much."
"Then why should you not like Wynnie to like him?"
"I should like to be surer of his principles, for one thing."
"I should like to be surer of Wynnie's."
I was silent. Ethelwyn resumed.
"Don't you think they might do each other good?"
Still I could not reply.
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