Farnham looked at the sketch with eyes
in which there was no criticism. He gave Alice a word or two of
heartier praise for her work than she knew she deserved. It was rather
more than she expected, and she was not altogether pleased to be so
highly commended, though she could hardly have said why. Perhaps it was
because it made her think less of his critical faculty. This was not
agreeable, for her admiration of him from her childhood had been one of
the greatest pleasures of her life. She had regarded him as children
regard a brilliant and handsome young uncle. She did not expect from
him either gallantry or equality of treatment.
"There! Do not say too much about it--you will make me ashamed of it.
What does it lack?"
"Nothing, except something on the right to balance the other side. You
might sketch in roughly a half-opened flower on the vine about there,"
indicating the place.
She took her pencils and began obediently to do what he had suggested.
He leaned over her shoulder, so near her she could feel his breath on
the light curls that played about her ear. She wished he would move.
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