The academician . ation to feel herfluttering heart against his own. Then heput her back in her chair, and wiped awaythe tears which were running fast downher cheeks. There, then, he said cheerfully; thatsall settled. So, you see, I was a true pro-phet after all. You will leave the Ches-hams, and you wont go to live with yourbrother. How—how—long have you loved me ? sobbed Connie, in a few minutes. The painters eyes wandered to anothereasel, on which stood a sketch of his newcomposition picture. She can sit for oneof the maidens in the background, hethought. Then he said, Oh, ever sinceIve kno
The academician . ation to feel herfluttering heart against his own. Then heput her back in her chair, and wiped awaythe tears which were running fast downher cheeks. There, then, he said cheerfully; thatsall settled. So, you see, I was a true pro-phet after all. You will leave the Ches-hams, and you wont go to live with yourbrother. How—how—long have you loved me ? sobbed Connie, in a few minutes. The painters eyes wandered to anothereasel, on which stood a sketch of his newcomposition picture. She can sit for oneof the maidens in the background, hethought. Then he said, Oh, ever sinceIve known you, dear. So have I, whispered Connie, raptur-ously ; and then, clinging close to him, she A PROPOSAL. 163 breathed, I was so afraid you were goingto like Mabel best. The image of the face he so coveted,and which always eluded him, rose beforeBaring, and his eyes grew deep and stern. Mabel! he said scornfully. Mabel!Oh no, my child. You need not have beenafraid ; I should never have asked Mabelto marry CHAPTER VIII. a WHEN ONE LOVES. Perhaps Mabel had never in her life beenso astonished as she was when Connie cameflying into her painting-room with hernews. Say it again, Connie. I dont think Iheard right. I—am—engaged—to—be—married—to—Mr.—Baring, repeated Connie im-pressively, inwardly delighted at Mabelsbewilderment. Its a joke, isnt it, Connie ? WHEN ONE LOVES. 165 A joke ? Certainly not. I dont seeanything to be surprised at. Only—isnt he a little old for you,dear ? Not a bit. Twenty or thirty yearsdont matter when one loves a person,said Constance, with an air of matronlywisdom. Mabel came and kissed her little friendvery tenderly. My darling, I do hopeyoull be happy. Are you sure, Connie v—holding the girl a little away from her,and gazing earnestly into her flushed,excited face— are you quite sure, Conniedear, that you love him ? A proud, soft look came into Conniesface—a look that Mabel had never seen therebefore. She clasped her hands
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