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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Artist., by F.M. S.
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Boy Artist.
+       A Tale for the Young
+
+Author: F.M. S.
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2008 [EBook #25478]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY ARTIST. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Emmy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was made using scans of public domain works in the
+International Children's Digital Library.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BOY-ARTIST.
+
+[Illustration: THE PICTURE.]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE BOY ARTIST
+
+A TALE FOR THE YOUNG
+
+          T. NELSON AND SONS,
+          LONDON, EDINBURGH AND NEW YORK
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE BOY-ARTIST.
+
+A Tale for the Young.
+
+_BY THE AUTHOR OF_
+
+_"HOPE ON," "KING JACK OF HAYLANDS," ETC._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me
+up."
+
+PSALM xxvii. 10.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          LONDON:
+          T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;
+          EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.
+
+1872.
+
+
+
+
+Contents.
+
+
+          THE BOY-ARTIST--
+
+            I. THE PICTURE,                  7
+           II. THE RESOLVE,                 20
+          III. THE FEVER,                   29
+           IV. THE FRIEND,                  45
+            V. THE INVITATION,              57
+           VI. THE SURPRISE,                66
+          VII. THE SUCCESS,                 82
+
+
+          TOWN DAISIES--
+
+            I. A LONELY LIFE,               87
+           II. TRANSPLANTED DAISIES,       106
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE BOY-ARTIST.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE PICTURE.
+
+
+"Oh, Madge, just stay as you are; there--your head a little more turned
+this way."
+
+"But, Raymond, I can't possibly make the toast if I do."
+
+"Never mind the toast; I shan't be many minutes," said the boy who was
+painting in the window, while he mixed some colours in an excited, eager
+manner.
+
+"The fire is very hot. Mayn't I move just to one side?"
+
+"No; it is the way that the firelight is falling on your hair and cheek
+that I want. Please, Madge; five minutes."
+
+"Very well," and the patient little sister dropped the toasting-fork,
+and folded her hands in her lap, with the scorching blaze playing on her
+forehead and cheek, and sparkling in her deep brown eyes.
+
+The boy went on with rapid, bold strokes, while a smile played over his
+compressed lips as he glanced at Madge every few moments.
+
+"The very thing I have been watching for--that warm, delicious
+glow--that red light slanting over her face;--glorious!" and he shook
+back the hair from his forehead, and worked on unconscious of how the
+minutes flew by.
+
+"Raymond, it is very hot."
+
+"There--one moment more, please, Madge."
+
+One minute--two--three, fled by, and then Raymond threw down his brush
+and came over to his sister's side.
+
+"Poor little Madge," and he laid his hand coaxingly on her silky hair.
+"Perhaps you have made my fortune."
+
+This was some small consolation for having roasted her face, and she
+went to look at the picture. "I'm not as pretty as that, Raymond."
+
+[Illustration: "FACES IN THE FIRE."]
+
+"Well, artists may idealize a little; may they not?"
+
+"Yes. What is this to be called?"
+
+"Faces in the Fire."
+
+"Shall you sell it?"
+
+"I shall try."
+
+[Illustration: THE COTTAGE IN THE COUNTRY.]
+
+Raymond Leicester had not a prepossessing face; it was heavy, and to a
+casual observer, stupid. He had dark hazel eyes, shaded by an
+overhanging brow and rather sweeping eyelashes; a straight nose, and
+compressed lips, hiding a row of defective teeth; a high massive
+forehead and light hair, which was seldom smooth, but very straight.
+This he had a habit of tossing back with a jerk when he was excited; and
+sometimes the dull eyes flashed with a very bright sparkle in them when
+he caught an idea which pleased him,--for Raymond was an artist, not by
+profession, but because it was in his heart to paint, and he could not
+help himself. He was sixteen now, and Madge was twelve. Madge was the
+only thing in the world that he really cared for, except his pictures.
+Their mother was dead, Madge could hardly remember her; but Raymond
+always had an image before him of a tender, sorrowful woman, who used
+to hold him in her arms, and whisper to him, while the hot tears fell
+upon his baby cheeks,--"_You_ will comfort me, my little son. _You_ will
+take care of your mother and of baby Madge." And he remembered the
+cottage in the country where they had lived, the porch where the
+rose-tree grew, the orchard and the moss-grown well, the tall white
+lilies in the garden that stood like fairies guarding the house, and the
+pear-tree that was laden with fruit.
+
+He remembered how his mother had sat in that porch with him, reading
+stories to him out of the Bible, but often lifting her sad pale face and
+looking down the road as if watching for some one.
+
+And then there came a dark, dreary night, when the wind was howling
+mournfully round the cottage and their mother lay dying. She had called
+Raymond to her, and had pressed her cold lips on his forehead, telling
+him to take care of Madge; and if his father ever came, to say that she
+had loved him to the end, and she had prayed God to bless him and to
+take care of her children. Then she had died, and the neighbours told
+Raymond that he was motherless.
+
+[Illustration: THE DYING MOTHER.]
+
+He recollected how the sun shone brightly on the day that she was
+buried, and that he and Madge stood by the grave crying, when she was
+put down in the cold earth; and that a man rode up to the paling of the
+quiet green churchyard, and threw the reins over his horse's neck, and
+came with hurried footsteps to the grave just as the last sod was thrown
+upon the coffin; and how this man had sobbed and cried, and had caught
+them in his arms, and said, "My poor little motherless ones," and had
+kissed them and cried again so piteously and wildly, that the clergyman
+had stopped in the service and had tried to comfort him. And when the
+funeral was over, and the neighbours were taking the little ones home,
+how the man had held them tightly and said, "No; mine now, never to
+leave me again. I am their father. Margaret, I will try to make up to
+them what I withheld from you; is it too late?"
+
+This was the father whom their mother had spoken of with her dying
+breath; but who had come too late to implore her forgiveness for having
+left her in want, while he squandered his money upon his own pleasure.
+But now, in the impulse of grief and remorse, he had determined to act
+differently, and returned to London with his children.
+
+Here they had lived ever since. Their father had returned to his old gay
+life, and left the children very much to take care of themselves.
+Sometimes carelessly kind to them, more often harsh and impatient, Mr.
+Leicester supposed that he fulfilled the vow which he had made about her
+children, beside his wife's grave.
+
+Raymond and Madge had no very definite idea as to what their father did
+with his time. From time to time they changed their lodgings, always
+coming to some quieter ones, and now they had got to the highest flight
+of a tall house in a very shady street. Their father was not at home
+very often, but they did not mind this much, and were very happy
+together.
+
+Raymond made a little money by drawing pictures for a cheap periodical,
+and with this he bought materials for his darling pursuit. Madge watched
+him and gloried in him, and dusted the rooms, and laid the table for
+meals, and mended his clothes, and thought hopefully of the time when
+Raymond should be a famous painter, and she should leave the dingy
+London lodging and live in the fresh breezy country which her brother
+told her about.
+
+Madge was not beautiful; her little face was sallow and pinched: but she
+had two pretty things about her. One was her hair, which was of a rich
+warm brown colour, with a dash of chestnut in it, and when unbound it
+fell in ripples nearly to her feet; the other was her eyes--large,
+lustrous, brown eyes--with an intense earnestness in them, seldom to be
+seen in one so young. These eyes appeared in every one of Raymond's
+pictures, for they haunted him.
+
+"Now, Raymond, come to breakfast," Madge said when she had finished
+making the toast.
+
+He did not appear to hear her, for he went to a little distance and
+surveyed his picture with his head on one side.
+
+Madge poured out the tea, and then came over to him, laid her hand on
+his which held the brush, and said entreatingly, "Come."
+
+"Well, it is too bad," he said laughingly, "first to make you roast your
+face, and then to keep you from eating your breakfast;" and he laid down
+his brush and pallette and came to the table; but he ate hurriedly and
+soon returned to his work.
+
+Madge put away the things and brought her sewing to the window, where
+she sat all the morning watching Raymond's busy fingers. Then she went
+out to the colour-shop at the end of the next street, to buy something
+which her brother wanted, and to see if the picture he had left there
+was sold.
+
+Alas! it was still in the window along with several others; a few
+butchers' boys, working-men, and ragged little girls were eagerly
+pressing their faces against the glass looking at the pictures, but none
+of them were likely to be purchasers. Raymond's picture was called "The
+Welcome." There was a cottage room, and an open door, through which a
+working man was coming in, while a little girl sprang to meet him. The
+girl had Madge's eyes; but no one in that wondering throng knew that.
+They were saying how well the workman's dress and the tools which he
+carried were done.
+
+[Illustration: BUSY FINGERS.]
+
+Madge went into the shop. Mr. Jeffery was talking to a gentleman who
+stood by the counter; but he turned to serve her as soon as she
+appeared.
+
+She laid down her money and took her tiny parcel, then said
+falteringly, while the colour came into her pale cheeks, "Please, sir,
+is my brother's picture sold yet?"
+
+"No, my dear, nor likely to be," said Mr. Jeffery, laughing.
+
+"Poor Raymond," thought Madge, and as she turned away, she raised her
+hand to brush away the tears which filled her eyes.
+
+The gentleman who had been standing, now stepped forward and opened the
+door for the little girl to go out.
+
+She raised her face timidly and said, "Thank you, sir," in a soft, low
+tone, then hurried off without trusting herself again to look in at the
+shop window.
+
+"Who's that, Jeffery?"
+
+"A little girl who comes here very often, sir. Her brother paints a
+little, and he's left a picture here to try and get it sold."
+
+"I should like to have her hair and eyes for a model," the artist said.
+"Jeffery, if that child comes again send her up to me; she would exactly
+do for my Ruth."
+
+But it was many and many a long day before little Madge came to that
+shop again.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE RESOLVE.
+
+
+That same evening, when it was too dark for Raymond to paint, he and
+Madge sat by the fire talking.
+
+"It's not much good trying any more; is it, Raymond?"
+
+"Trying what?"
+
+"Why, your painting, to be sure."
+
+"Nonsense, Madge, I must paint; it's my life to paint."
+
+Madge gave a long deep sigh, too long and deep for a child of her age.
+
+"Raymond, what's _my_ life?"
+
+"Woman's life is to glory in man," said Raymond grandly.
+
+"Oh!" said Madge, with an unbelieving laugh, "there's more than that in
+it; there's a great deal of work, too, I can assure you."
+
+"I daresay," Raymond answered carelessly; "but, Madge, you must never
+talk of my giving up painting, because I should die if I did."
+
+"Should you? O Raymond, don't."
+
+"No, I won't until I have done something great--something to make you
+proud of me--something which shall make my name to be remembered;" and
+the boy's eyes flashed now, but it was too dark for any one to see it.
+
+Madge liked to hear him say these kind of things, though she was not an
+artist herself, only a patient, loving little girl, who thought there
+was no one in the world like Raymond, and she put out her hand and laid
+it softly upon his, as if she would lay her claim to that by which his
+fame was to come.
+
+They sat in silence for some time--Raymond looking into the fire, and
+thinking of his future; Madge looking at him, and wondering if she
+should ever see him as famous as she felt sure he ought to be.
+
+The door was opened suddenly, and their father came in. Even with
+streaks of gray in his hair, and deep lines upon his face, Mr. Leicester
+was handsome; and he had a gay, dashing air, that heightened the charm
+of his appearance. He carelessly kissed Madge, and laid his hand on
+Raymond's shoulder, then sat down by the fire.
+
+"It's cold to-night, children."
+
+"Yes, father; shall I get tea?"
+
+"Not to-night, sweet Madge. I must be off soon; I have an engagement. I
+only looked in to see how you were getting on."
+
+"Very well," said Raymond gruffly.
+
+"Oh! that's right; I'm glad to hear it."
+
+There was a long pause, then Mr. Leicester said abruptly, "Raymond, lad,
+I've found some work for you at last."
+
+Raymond started. He had long ago found work for himself, and did not
+want any other.
+
+"Stephens and Johnson will shortly have a vacancy, and then you can go
+to them as soon as you like."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, that they want a shop-boy."
+
+Raymond stood up proudly. "I'm a gentleman, father."
+
+"Come, come, never mind that. We know all that; but I don't want
+heroics. You must either work or starve."
+
+"I'm working."
+
+"Pooh, pooh! A little desultory dabbling in painting; let me tell you,
+Master Raymond, that is not my idea of work."
+
+"But, father, I must paint; I could not live if I did not."
+
+"Nonsense; that is all the ridiculous ideas that you get up here. When
+you are shaken out in the world you will lose them."
+
+Raymond's hands were raised to his face, and he was shivering with
+excitement. Madge came to her father's side, and put one hand on his
+shoulder.
+
+"Father, Raymond is a painter. If you were to send him to a shop, he
+would be a painter still. You cannot crush out what is bound up in his
+heart. Is it not better for him to rise to fame by painting? Some day he
+will be your glory and mine."
+
+Mr. Leicester shook her hand off.
+
+"You don't know what you are talking about. Little girls should hold
+their tongues, and learn to be silent."
+
+Madge shrank back immediately, and her father went on fiercely. "I'll
+tell you what it is, children; I'm off to-night to the Continent, and
+that's all the cash I can leave you," and he produced three sovereigns.
+"I can't find bread enough for all of us. Raymond _must_ work. I shall
+be gone for a month. The place will not be ready for him before that.
+When I return he must go immediately."
+
+Madge breathed more freely--there was a month's reprieve, and she
+stretched out her hand to Raymond. He clutched it, and held it in a
+vice-like grasp.
+
+"Father," he said at last, and his voice was low and hoarse, "I want to
+ask you something."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"You are not coming back for a month. If during that time I can sell one
+of my pictures, and can hand you over a reasonable sum of money, may I
+go on painting?"
+
+His father thought for a moment, then laughed. "Yes, safe enough.
+Perhaps you'll know what it is to be hungry before the month's out, and
+will be glad enough to leave off your dabbling."
+
+Then he stood up--patted Madge's head--went to the door, and came back
+again as if seized with a new impulse--shook hands with Raymond, and
+kissed his little daughter's forehead. "Good-bye, children; take care of
+yourselves," and he went away. Then Madge came to Raymond's side, and he
+laid his head upon her shoulder with a low piteous cry.
+
+"Hush, darling, hush," she whispered. "It will all come right, don't
+fear. Let us trust God; he has given you this talent for painting, and
+he will teach you how to use it. There's a whole month, and who knows
+what may happen in that time! You may become famous." She went on
+earnestly; but he took no notice--only pressed his hands tighter and
+closer over his throbbing forehead.
+
+"Raymond, I know you will be an artist--a great one--some day,"
+whispered Madge.
+
+"Never, never, if I am to be ground down in a shop," he groaned.
+
+[Illustration: THE LITTLE COMFORTER.]
+
+"You will, you will," she answered, throwing her arm round his neck. "If
+you keep up a brave, strong heart, and are not discouraged. Nobody can
+do anything if they lose heart."
+
+"But to be always, always working, and to have no success. O Madge, it
+is so hard and bitter!"
+
+"No success! Why, Raymond, if you'd only heard how the errand-boys
+praised the way you had done the workman's basket of tools in the
+_Welcome_. It was a success in itself."
+
+In spite of himself Raymond laughed, and Madge was satisfied. She went
+on brightly. "Some day I shall be so proud to be the sister of Mr.
+Raymond Leicester, the great painter, whose picture will be one of the
+gems in the Royal Academy some year or other; and we shall glory in
+you."
+
+"Not he--never; he would _never_ care."
+
+"Oh, he would--he would; and if he didn't, you would be mine--all mine,"
+she added softly, as she laid her hand on his arm.
+
+Raymond looked up suddenly. "Madge, you are a witch, I think. I wonder
+what those men do who have no sisters--poor fellows;" and then he kissed
+her.
+
+There was a glad light in Madge's eyes then. He so seldom did this,
+except for good-night and good-morning, that she knew what it meant. She
+was very silent for a few minutes, then sprang up, exclaiming, "Now we
+must have tea, and then you have your etching to do, and I am going to
+pay up the rent, and then I'll read to you, and do my sums."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE FEVER.
+
+
+And Raymond did work. Madge watched him with hopeful pride, and seldom
+stirred from his side. Their small store of money was nearly gone, and
+there seemed but little likelihood of a fresh supply.
+
+Raymond's hopes were bound up in the picture he was then engaged upon.
+If only he could finish that, he felt sure that he could sell it. There
+was a feverish light in his eyes, a burning flush upon his cheeks, while
+he worked. He spoke seldom; but Madge saw him raise his hand sometimes
+to his forehead as if in pain. The picture was nearly done, and Raymond
+looked up for a minute one morning, and saw that the sun was shining
+brightly down on the sea of roofs and chimney-pots which for the most
+part constituted the view from their garret window, and then he said to
+Madge, "Go out, and get a breath of fresh air; it is stifling work for
+you to be always up here."
+
+"Shan't you want me to mix your colours, Raymond?"
+
+"No; go. I should rather you went."
+
+She put on her bonnet, and then stood for one moment looking at his
+work. "I wish you would come with me; it would do you good, and rest
+you."
+
+Raymond gave a wearying sigh. "No rest for me yet, Madge. I must toil on
+until this is done. I can't rest when I go to bed. I am thinking all
+night when will the morning come, that I may be at work again. No, no;
+there is no rest until this is sold. Do you know that in a day or two we
+shall be penniless and starving?"
+
+Madge looked up at him with a smile. "No, Raymond, we shan't be left to
+starve; don't fear."
+
+Raymond looked doubtful, and went on with his work, and Madge went out.
+
+She felt very lonely and sad as she wandered through the crowded, busy
+streets, and gazed into the faces of the passers-by, all were so
+completely wrapped up in their own concerns. None knew her history; none
+would care to know it. What did it matter to any one of that moving
+throng if she and Raymond died?
+
+Almost unconsciously she bent her steps in the direction of the
+colour-shop. One hurried glance she cast at the window, and then turned
+away with a sickening heart.
+
+Raymond's picture was still there.
+
+She went home, and ascended the long flight of stairs with a slow,
+hesitating step. For a moment she paused at the door of their own room;
+she heard a groan within, and hastily went in. Her first glance was
+directed to the easel in the window; but Raymond was not there. Another
+look discovered him lying on the floor with his head pressed against the
+ground.
+
+"Raymond, Raymond!" she cried as she threw herself down by him. "Dear
+Raymond, what is the matter?"
+
+[Illustration: THE COLOUR-SHOP WINDOW.]
+
+"O Madge, my head, my head! I could not bear it any longer."
+
+He raised it for a moment, and Madge caught a sight of his fevered
+cheeks and heavy tired eyes. She thought for an instant what was best to
+be done, then ran down-stairs to call their landlady. Now, Mrs. Smiley
+was in the midst of her cooking operations, and as she bent over her
+large saucepan, she did not like being interrupted by the sudden
+appearance of one of her top lodgers.
+
+"What do you want? Don't you see I'm busy?" she said roughly, as she
+turned a very red face round from the fire to Madge.
+
+But Madge, in her terror for Raymond, gained courage. "If you please,
+ma'am, do come and see Raymond; he is so ill, and I don't know what to
+do."
+
+"And who's to take this saucepan off, I should like to know, or baste
+the meat? Do you think I'm to be at the beck and call of top-flight
+lodgers, who only pay five shillings a-week, and that not regular. I can
+tell you then that you're in the wrong box, young woman, so you'd best
+be off."
+
+[Illustration: AN UNGRACIOUS LANDLADY.]
+
+Madge turned to go, but still stood irresolute, and Mrs. Smiley, looking
+round to enforce her injunction, caught a sight of her wistful,
+terrified face. The little girl went away as directed; but as soon as
+she was gone, Mrs. Smiley opened the door of the back-kitchen, and
+called out, "Here, you Polly, come up here, and keep an eye on this
+dinner. Now keep basting the meat properly; for if it's burnt, I'll
+baste you when I come back;" and then she followed Madge up-stairs. She
+found her kneeling beside Raymond, supporting his head upon her
+shoulder.
+
+"Well, Mr. Raymond, so you don't find yourself very well!"
+
+A groan was her only answer, and Madge looked imploringly at her.
+
+"You'd best go to bed, sir, I'm thinking.--Miss Madge, my dear, you're
+in for a bit of nursing. I'm afeard it's a fever that's on him."
+
+Mrs. Smiley's character was changed. She had children of her own, and
+there were soft spots in her heart still, though the outer coat, formed
+by her worldly business, was hard and rough. She had known what sickness
+was, and she was rather a skilful nurse, so from that time whatever
+spare minutes she had were devoted to Raymond.
+
+Poor little Madge! The days that followed were very sad ones. Her
+brother grew worse and worse, and she sat by his bedside listening to
+his wild ravings of delirium, in vain endeavouring to soothe him, or to
+allay his burning thirst.
+
+Their scanty supply of money was exhausted; and many little comforts
+which Raymond needed, his sister was unable to procure for him. "I must
+do something; this cannot go on," she thought; and then an idea flashed
+into her mind, which she longed to carry out. She went over to the
+easel, and took down Raymond's picture. It was very nearly finished. "I
+will go and see if Mr. Jeffery will buy it," she said; and covering it
+under her little cloak, she set out.
+
+Very timidly she presented herself at the counter, and produced her
+picture. Mr. Jeffery looked at it. "This is not finished," he remarked.
+
+"No, sir; Raymond was too ill to finish it."
+
+"I cannot take it in this state," said the picture-dealer. "It will
+never sell."
+
+[Illustration: NO HOPE.]
+
+"Then you can do nothing for us?" asked Madge sadly.
+
+"Nothing. Stay, though;" and he began turning over the leaves of his
+memorandum-book. "Yes, you are the child. Well, Mr. Smith--Mr. Herbert
+Smith--the great artist, wants to see you. Here, take this direction and
+give it to him when you find his house;" and Mr. Jeffery hastily wrote a
+few lines upon a piece of paper, and handed it to Madge.
+
+Mr. Herbert Smith, the great artist. Yes! she had heard Raymond speak of
+his pictures--she would go; there was a gleam of hope before her; she
+would take Raymond's picture to him; he could not fail to discover how
+clever it was--Raymond could only be appreciated by master minds, and
+this was one of them. It was a dull wet day, and the streets looked dark
+and dingy; the rain was driving in her face, and her heart was with
+Raymond in the garret, where he was tossing in restless fever; but the
+brave little maiden went on steadily, until she reached Mr. Herbert
+Smith's door.
+
+She rang at the bell, and asked to see the artist. The servant, well
+accustomed to receiving every variety in the way of visitors to his
+master, models, &c., &c., ushered her up a long stair into the studio.
+
+Why, there sat the gentleman who had once looked so kindly at her in the
+picture-shop; she had often wondered who he could be.
+
+"A little girl to see you, sir," said the servant, and then withdrew.
+Mr. Smith was reading his newspaper, seated in an easy-chair, arrayed in
+dressing-gown and slippers, with a cigar in his mouth, and a cup of
+fragrant coffee by his side.
+
+He turned round impatiently, but when he saw Madge, his expression
+changed to one of easy good-humour.
+
+"Mr. Jeffery--please, sir, he told me to come to you," said little
+Madge, while she looked down on the ground.
+
+"Oh, yes, I remember; and so you have come to give me a sitting?"
+
+"A what, sir?"
+
+"A sitting, my child; to let me paint your eyes and hair."
+
+"Please sir, I came to show you this; Raymond's ill;" and she held out
+the cherished picture.
+
+[Illustration: THE GREAT ARTIST.]
+
+"Ah, yes; lay it down. I'll look at it presently; but, meanwhile, I must
+lose no time in transferring you to canvas. Now, then, take your place,
+so; your head a little more turned to the light." And in a few minutes,
+with easy, rapid strokes, the artist was progressing in his work.
+
+"And what is your name, my little girl?" he asked presently.
+
+"Madge Leicester," she replied softly.
+
+"Your eyes have grown sadder than they were when I last saw you, Madge!"
+They were very sad then, for large tears were gathering in them, and
+rolling down the thin white cheeks.
+
+She raised her hand and dashed them away.
+
+"What is it all about?" said Mr. Smith.
+
+"O Raymond, Raymond!" she faltered.
+
+"Is Raymond your brother?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Have you a father and mother?"
+
+"My mother is dead, and my father is away, and Raymond is ill."
+
+"Poor child, where do you live?"
+
+Madge told him.
+
+"And does no one care for you?"
+
+"Oh yes, Raymond does."
+
+"But I mean, does no one do anything for you?"
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Smiley is minding him while I'm out!"
+
+"How did you come to leave him to-day?"
+
+A quick flush came to Madge's cheek; she was ashamed to confess their
+poverty; but after a moment she added, "I wanted to sell Raymond's
+picture."
+
+"Does Raymond like painting?"
+
+Madge's face lit up with a sudden brightness. "Yes, yes! he loves it--he
+delights in it--he says it is his life."
+
+"Poor boy, he does not know what up-hill work it is; he thinks it is
+mere fancy play, I suppose?"
+
+"I don't think he does, sir."
+
+"Has he ever had teaching?"
+
+"Only a few lessons from an artist who had the down-stair rooms in the
+last house where we lodged."
+
+Mr. Smith came over suddenly, and unfastened Madge's hair; it fell in
+golden ripples all over her neck. The light was shining upon it, and the
+sunbeams danced about it, making it in some places to resemble--
+
+          "In gloss and hue, the chestnut, when the shell
+           Divides threefold to show the fruit within;"
+
+and in others there were luxuriant masses of rich deep brown, clustering
+in curls about her shoulders. For a moment the artist stood lost in
+admiration; then he silently resumed his work. It was an enjoyment to
+him, as Madge could see from the pleasant smile that played around his
+lips, and the kindly look in his eyes, when he glanced at her; but the
+poor, little, anxious sister was only longing for the time to be over,
+that she might return to Raymond's side; and when at last Mr. Smith laid
+down his brushes and pallette, saying, "I will not keep you longer
+to-day," she sprang to her feet joyfully.
+
+"Will you come again soon, Madge?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir, if I can!"
+
+"Well, this is for your first sitting;" and he held her out
+half-a-crown. For a moment she hesitated, then she thought of Raymond,
+and the nourishment he so much needed, and she took it. "And about the
+picture, sir?" she asked wistfully.
+
+"Oh, yes, about the picture," said Mr. Smith, taking it up; but at this
+moment he was interrupted; the servant announced a visitor, and he had
+only time to add, "I will tell you about the picture the next time you
+come, little Madge; good-bye;" and then she had to go away.
+
+Back through the dreary streets, to that dreary home; back to that
+garret room, to that lonely watching, to that brother who lay so near
+the borders of the grave, though Madge knew it not. How often we pass in
+the crowded thoroughfare some sad suffering hearts, hurrying back to
+scenes such as these; it may be that they touch us in the crowd, and yet
+we know nothing of the burden which they carry; God help them! Let us
+thank him if we have light hearts ourselves; and let us remember that
+each load that we lighten leaves one less sad face and heavy heart in
+the world about us.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE FRIEND.
+
+
+A week passed, and Mr. Smith saw nothing more of Madge. Raymond had
+become worse, and she never left him.
+
+It was Saturday evening, about five o'clock, when Mrs. Smiley was called
+up from the kitchen by hearing that a gentleman wanted to speak to her.
+She came up, smoothing down her apron with her hands, which were not of
+the cleanest.
+
+"Do two children of the name of Leicester live here?"
+
+"Yes, sir, surely; at least there were two of 'em a couple of hours ago,
+but I can't rightly say whether the lad's alive yet."
+
+"What! is he so ill, then?"
+
+"Ay, ay, sir, ill enough, I warrant."
+
+"I will go up to them."
+
+"Very well, sir; I'm sure if you're a friend that'll do something for
+them, I'm right glad to see you, for they sorely need one."
+
+Mr. Smith, for it was he, followed Polly's guidance to Raymond's room,
+then thanking her, he knocked at the door himself, and entered.
+
+Madge was leaning over the sick boy, holding a glass of water to his
+lips; and as she looked round, Mr. Smith thought he had never seen a
+face so strangely and sadly altered as hers. It had lost nearly all its
+childishness--it looked so old, and womanly, with a weight of care in it
+that was pitiable to see; and yet, with all this, it was so calm and
+still, so composed, that any one would have imagined that her one
+thought was how to nurse her patient. And so it was. Madge felt that a
+great deal depended upon her fortitude and self-control. Had she lost
+this, she could not have attended upon Raymond; and though she was only
+a weak little girl in herself, God gave her the strength she needed. She
+did not spend her time in idly fretting, or in gloomy thoughts about the
+future; she just did the duties that came in her way, one by one, and
+left the rest trustfully to God.
+
+One glance was sufficient to show Mr. Smith how ill the boy was. The
+wildness of the fever was past, and he had sunk into a state of almost
+complete lethargy.
+
+"Madge," said the artist, "I came to see why you had not come again to
+me."
+
+Madge only pointed to Raymond's sharpened features resting on the
+pillow; it was excuse enough.
+
+"He is very ill," said Mr. Smith. "I never saw any one looking more
+ill."
+
+"Mrs. Smiley says he is dying," said Madge in a low tone of forced calm;
+and she repeated the last words sadly to herself, "dying, O Raymond!"
+
+"When was the doctor here?"
+
+"We have had no doctor, sir."
+
+"Why not? That has not been wise, Madge."
+
+[Illustration: THE ARTIST'S VISIT.]
+
+"We could not afford it, sir."
+
+"There was the parish doctor."
+
+"I knew nothing about him, sir; and I had nobody to tell me."
+
+"Poor child, poor child!" and the artist was feeling the boy's pulse.
+Raymond opened his eyes, and seeing a man by his side, said faintly,
+"I've failed, father--I'll go to the shop--it's not done!"
+
+"Hush, hush, my boy; we must not talk now." And then Mr. Smith beckoned
+Madge into the next room. She followed him silently, and for a moment or
+two her new friend stood looking into her pale, troubled face. Then he
+laid his hand on her head, and there were tears in his eyes as he spoke.
+
+"I have a little daughter at home, Madge, who is about your age; and if
+she were in trouble--;" suddenly his voice faltered, and he added
+hurriedly, "may God grant that my Lilian may never be left as you are."
+
+Madge lifted her eyes to his face, then clasping his hand, she said,
+"Oh, sir, save Raymond; I will love you always, if you will save him.
+Oh, do not let him die!"
+
+"Keep up your brave little heart; I will do my best. Madge, if your
+brother lives, he will some day be a great artist."
+
+Again that glad, joyful light came into Madge's eyes, which the artist
+had seen there once before. "I know it! I know it!" she cried. "Did you
+like the picture, sir?"
+
+"Yes, my child. I saw unmistakable signs of genius in it. I am buying it
+myself, little Madge; will you receive the purchase-money?"
+
+"No, no; wait till Raymond can have it himself. He must live!--he will,
+he will!"
+
+"Hush, my child; there is One above who only knows about that; he must
+do as seemeth to him best. Now, Madge, go back to him; I will go and get
+a friend of mine to come and see him."
+
+Madge did as he bid her; and in about an hour Mr. Smith returned with a
+doctor.
+
+He looked very grave when he had examined his patient, and then beckoned
+Mr. Smith away.
+
+"I have very little hope of him," he said sorrowfully; "the prostration
+of strength is fearful; I fear he will never rally; but he must have
+stimulants now, and plenty of nourishment;--we must do what we can."
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Smith warmly; "and if you save him, Morton, you will
+have saved one who will be a great man some day. That boy has an
+artist's soul within him; he will rise to fame."
+
+"I should like to save him for the sake of that little patient maiden
+who is watching him. What a touching face the child has, and how she
+seemed to be hanging on every look of mine!"
+
+"Poor little Madge, she loves him better than herself."
+
+For a few days, Raymond hung between life and death; then Dr. Morton's
+face looked even graver than before. Madge saw that he had no hope.
+
+On Sunday evening, she was sitting beside her brother, watching the
+fluttering breath, which seemed every instant as if it must cease
+altogether; when suddenly Raymond opened his eyes. "Madge."
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"I've been asleep a long time, and I'm so tired."
+
+"You must try to sleep again, darling Raymond."
+
+A bewildered look passed over the boy's face, then he said eagerly,
+"Madge, am I going to die?"
+
+She put her face close down to his, and said gently, "We must not talk
+now, dear; try to sleep again."
+
+He was silent for a few minutes, then the words came thick and fast.
+
+"Madge, I've not been a good brother to you; I meant to have been, but I
+have thought and thought of nothing but myself. I ought to have gone to
+the shop. I ought not to have let you want. O Madge! if I might but
+live, if I might but live!" and then tears fell one by one down the
+thin, pale cheeks, and dropped on Madge's hand.
+
+"Please, dear Raymond, lie quiet; the doctor said you must be very
+quiet."
+
+"But, Madge, it doesn't signify; I'm dying, I know I am, and I must
+speak to you!" he said, raising his voice, and speaking with all the
+energy of those who know that they are soon to be silent for evermore;
+"what will you do? what will become of you?"
+
+"Don't fear for me, dear brother," answered Madge, who was crying
+bitterly.
+
+"No, you love and fear God, and he will take care of you; I know he
+will! O Madge, I wish I had loved him as you have; but I've been a bad
+boy, and now it is too late, too late;--if I might but live!" The words
+were spoken in a low, vehement whisper, and a smothered groan followed
+them.
+
+"Raymond, our dear Saviour loves you. Think of him, do not think about
+yourself," and Madge's face became calm as she spoke.
+
+A smile came over her brother's countenance, he closed his eyes and
+feebly pressed her hand. Then he lay very still and motionless. Once
+only his lips moved. Madge thought he said, "Mother!" Then all was
+silent as the grave, except the ticking of the clock in the next room.
+Madge seemed counting every swing of the pendulum. They seemed like the
+last grains of sand in the hour-glass of her brother's life, and his
+breath was getting shorter. At length she could hardly find out whether
+he breathed or not. She thought of what the doctor said to Mr. Smith:
+"If he does not rally, there will probably be a short period of
+consciousness before he dies, and then he will go off quietly." She
+supposed that period was over now, and Raymond would never speak to her
+again,--Raymond, her pride, her glory. He was slipping away from her,
+and soon she should have no brother. Poor little Madge! Years afterwards
+she could recall that scene more vividly than any other in her life--the
+look of everything around her; the lazy flies creeping up the
+window-pane, and one or two which were buzzing about her head; the glass
+standing on the chair by Raymond's side, which she had held to his lips
+but a few minutes before, and which she knew he would never drink from
+again; the way in which she had smoothed the bed-clothes and moved his
+pillow; and that still, white face, so inexpressibly dear to her, that
+rested upon it. There was a step beside her, and looking round she saw
+Mrs. Smiley. The good woman started as she saw Raymond. Then drawing
+Madge away, she said tenderly, "Poor lamb, come in here now;" and she
+tried to induce her to leave the room.
+
+"No, no! I must stay," Madge said vehemently, and she sprang to
+Raymond's side. "Mrs. Smiley, he isn't dead."
+
+"Then he looks like it. Come away, Miss Madge."
+
+"But he isn't. He breathes still."
+
+Yes, there was just a feeble pulsation, so feeble that it was hardly
+discernible, but it brought new hope to Madge's heart. She moistened his
+lips with a stimulant, then knelt beside him, with her eyes fixed upon
+him in intense anxiety. The moments seemed like hours. But at last there
+came a little short sigh, and then the breathing became more soft and
+regular. The lines of the face were relaxed, and Raymond was sleeping
+peacefully.
+
+"If he sleep, he will do well," were words spoken long ago. And so it
+was.
+
+When the doctor came again, he pronounced his patient better, and told
+Madge that he might recover.
+
+That night, about twelve o'clock, as she was sitting beside the bed,
+keeping watch, Madge heard a low, weak voice saying her name. She bent
+down her head, and Raymond whispered, "Madge, I have had such a happy,
+beautiful dream, about my painting. Ask GOD that I may live."
+
+"Perhaps your dream will come true, darling, for the picture is sold,"
+she answered gladly. Then she feared that she had said what was unwise,
+and that she had excited him. But she was satisfied when she saw the
+quiet smile of satisfaction that stole over his features.
+
+"Now rest, dear Raymond," she added, as she kissed him, "you will yet
+live to be my glory."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE INVITATION.
+
+
+What a pleasant sight it was to see Madge's face, when Raymond was able
+to sit up. It was still quiet and calm, but there was a deep gladness in
+it that was beautiful; and the thoughtful care for her brother, the way
+in which every wish or desire of his was forestalled, showed plainly
+that her love had rather been increased than diminished by that long
+nursing. She made allowance for all the fretfulness of convalescence,
+which is so prevalent after severe illness--especially in men or boys,
+who feel the depression of extreme weakness peculiarly trying--and was
+always patient and bright. One day Raymond, after watching her for some
+minutes gliding about the room and making things comfortable for him,
+said to her, "Madge, which is the best life, yours or mine?"
+
+"Mine at present; and yours is going to be," she answered, with her own
+quiet smile.
+
+"I've begun to doubt that. Do you know, I've nearly come to the
+conclusion that I would change with you, and that your unselfish life is
+more noble than all the fame and glory I could heap together."
+
+Madge stopped in her work, and looking earnestly at her brother,
+replied,--
+
+"If that fame and glory is the _only_ object of your life, Raymond, it
+is not what I thought and hoped it was going to be."
+
+"What do you mean?" he asked, half laughing at her gravity.
+
+"I can't put it as plainly as I want to do; but, Raymond, I mean that
+your painting will not be only for your own glory, if you use it
+rightly."
+
+Raymond was silent, and his face became very thoughtful. "Madge," he
+said presently, "I don't want that arrowroot. Come over here."
+
+"Wait one moment, dear. I know my duty as nurse better than that. If I
+leave this too long it will get quite thin, and then you will call it
+'horrid stuff,' and not taste it."
+
+Raymond laughed. "You are getting quite tyrannical, Madge. You take an
+unfair advantage of my weakness."
+
+"I must make the most of my brief authority," she answered merrily; and
+in another minute she had brought the little tray to his side. "Now what
+is it, Raymond?"
+
+"Well, Madge, I've been thinking a great deal, and I've come to the
+conclusion that it's right for me to go to the shop. I can't rise to
+fame in painting without some teaching, and I can't get that, and I must
+earn money for you."
+
+"But, Raymond, that picture is sold. You know Mr. Smith brought the
+money the other day. Why should not others be sold also?"
+
+"And what are you to do meantime, little woman?"
+
+Madge was amused at the grave elder-brother tone, and answered, "As I
+have done before. But let us consult Mr. Smith."
+
+"Very well; but he can't know both sides of the question. Nobody but an
+artist could understand what it is to me to give up painting--not even
+you, Madge."
+
+Now Mr. Smith had charged Madge to keep it a strict secret from Raymond
+that he was an artist. He wished to watch him quietly, for there was a
+little scheme of benevolence in the good man's head, which he wanted to
+carry out if possible. Many a time had Madge found herself on the point
+of telling Raymond about the sitting, and Mr. Smith's studio, and the
+lovely pictures about it; but she kept her counsel bravely, and had her
+reward. Raymond often questioned her as to how she had made acquaintance
+with Mr. Smith, but she always told him it was through Mr. Jeffery, and
+turned the conversation; and by degrees his curiosity abated, he became
+content to receive him as an old friend, and learned to look forward to
+his visits as one of his greatest treats.
+
+But with this secret in her possession, it was hardly to be wondered at
+that Madge smiled when Raymond deplored Mr. Smith's probable want of
+sympathy in his favourite pursuit; but she only said, "He must have some
+taste for painting, or he would not have bought your picture."
+
+"You little flatterer! he probably did that because he had a fancy for
+you."
+
+At this moment Mrs. Smiley entered the room. She was the bearer of a
+letter which had just been left by the postman.
+
+It bore a foreign post-mark, and the children knew that it was their
+father's hand-writing. It contained but a few lines, evidently written
+in haste.
+
+          "MY DEAR CHILDREN,--I have got an appointment
+          abroad, which will detain me for a long time,--for
+          how long I cannot say. I wish I could have you
+          with me--but this is impossible. I send you L5. It
+          is all I can do at present. Raymond must give up
+          his dabbling, and set to work like a man. I hope
+          you will get on well. I shall see you some day.
+
+          --Your affectionate father,   RAYMOND LEICESTER."
+
+And this was all! They had looked forward to his coming home. They had
+watched for him day by day. In Raymond's heart there was a strange
+yearning to see the face of his only living parent; to know if he would
+be glad that he had been restored, when he was so near death; and these
+few hurried words were all! They read them through several times. Then
+Madge clasped her hands, and hid her face with a low cry.
+
+"Don't, Madge, don't," said Raymond, though his own voice was trembling
+with emotion. "I cannot bear to see you like that."
+
+"O Raymond, will he never come back?"
+
+"Yes; don't you see he says that he will, some day. Meanwhile, we will
+do our best."
+
+"_You_ will never leave me, Raymond?"
+
+"Never, if I can help it," he said, laying his long thin fingers on her
+hair.
+
+"Poor father! Raymond, I did want to see him so much."
+
+"So did I."
+
+They did not speak much more. For some time they only sat holding each
+other's hands, and thinking mournfully of the future. Everything seemed
+very dark and gloomy that evening, both within and without. A heavy rain
+was falling, and the sight of wet roofs and chimney-pots gleaming in the
+twilight is never very enlivening. Raymond at last gave a long, deep
+sigh, at the sound of which Madge started up.
+
+"That won't do, Raymond. I'm forgetting my duty as nurse, and it is very
+bad for a patient to get vapourish! Oh, here's Mr. Smith!"
+
+He came in, in his own pleasant, friendly way, but his quick eye soon
+discovered that something was wrong, for Madge's quiet little face was
+troubled, and Raymond looked tired and moody.
+
+Mr. Smith sat down, and began in a lively tone,--"Well, Raymond, my boy,
+how have things gone to-day? are you any stronger?"
+
+"Not much, sir," he answered mournfully.
+
+"And I don't expect you will be, while you are up here. You want change
+of air to set you up."
+
+"I must get well as soon as possible," he said, with a very determined
+look.
+
+"You must not be in too great a hurry. People want a great deal of
+patching up after an illness like yours."
+
+"I must be at work!" said Raymond.
+
+"Yes, when you are well. What is the cause of this extreme impatience?
+You were quite content yesterday to lie back in your chair and let
+Madge nurse you and pet you to her heart's content."
+
+Raymond answered by holding out his father's letter. Mr. Smith read it
+silently. He made no remark when he had finished it, but handed it back
+to the boy.
+
+"And now, sir, what are we to do?"
+
+"Get well and strong, my dear boy, in the first place."
+
+"But about the shop, sir? My father said the place was ready, and I
+could take it."
+
+"You are not fit for it at present."
+
+"At present!" Then Mr. Smith thought he ought to go when he was well!
+The thought was very bitter, and Raymond bent his head in his hands, and
+tears came dropping one by one through his fingers. They came from his
+extreme weakness, and he was very much ashamed of them, so much ashamed
+that he did not look up until he had banished them. Then Mr. Smith
+spoke:--
+
+"Little Madge, do you think Raymond is well enough to have a change?"
+
+"There is no place for him to go to, sir," she answered, while there was
+a quick throb of pain in her heart at the thought of being separated
+from him.
+
+"I have a country-house in the Isle of Wight. Will you both come and pay
+me a visit there, and see my little daughter Lilian?"
+
+Madge's face lit up instantly. "Raymond, do you hear? The country--the
+country--and the beautiful sea--and you will get strong there!"
+
+"But I don't know how we could do it, sir?" said Raymond doubtfully, but
+in a tone of gladness which showed how much he liked the proposition.
+
+"You must let me be your father for the time, and I will see to it all,"
+replied Mr. Smith kindly. "Mrs. Nurse, don't you think it would be the
+best thing possible for your patient?"
+
+"Oh, yes," she answered gladly.
+
+"Then you must be ready by the end of next week," said Mr. Smith; "and
+consider that it is a settled thing. Lilian will be in such delight."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE SURPRISE.
+
+
+Seapoint was beautifully situated on a headland, which commanded a view
+of the boundless sea on one side, and on the other a panoramic view of
+the fertile Isle of Wight. And this was the summer home of the artist's
+little daughter. Her governess, Miss Mortimer, had charge of her, but
+her father came backwards and forwards to see her constantly; for Lilian
+was all that was now left to him in this world to love except his art,
+and the days when he came were the brightest of his little girl's life.
+She knew that he would take her long on rambling walks, and let her clamber
+about amongst the rocks and little bays and creeks in which she
+delighted; and that, when she was tired, there was always a comfortable
+resting-place ready for her in that father's arms; and loving, tender
+words, which she never heard from any one but him. In his little
+daughter the artist found his ideal of childish beauty realized. The
+exquisitely shaped oval face; the large eyes of dark blue, through which
+the loving little heart looked out at him, and in which, though
+generally sparkling with fun and merriment, there was sometimes a dreamy
+intentness, as if they beheld a world more beautiful than any which his
+art or imagination created; the perfectly formed nose and mouth; the
+arched forehead, shaded with golden brown hair; the delicate complexion;
+and the witching charm of the graceful little figure, were a perpetual
+feast to the artist-father. Miss Mortimer complained bitterly that
+nothing would make Lilian behave with the due propriety of a young lady;
+but to her father there was a winsomeness in her free, gay manner, that
+made up for her wild spirits, which sometimes carried her past the
+bounds which the worthy governess laid down for her.
+
+It was one of those glorious evenings in early summer, when all nature
+is bathed in that soft golden light which precedes sunset, and little
+Lilian was watching for her father's arrival; for it was Friday, and he
+generally came on that day to stay till Monday.
+
+The eager child had not long to wait; she heard the well-known footstep
+on the gravel, and she bounded out of the door.
+
+"Well, my Lilian."
+
+"Well, papa." And the soft arms were thrown about his neck as the father
+stooped to kiss his little daughter.
+
+"All right here, Fairy?"
+
+"Yes, all right. And Miss Mortimer has got so many good things about me
+to tell you; and isn't it fine? Won't you take me for a beautiful long
+walk, papa?"
+
+"Yes, darling. Shall we go now? I will just speak to Miss Mortimer, and
+then we will set off; and I will ask them to defer tea until we return."
+
+"Beautiful!" said Lilian. "I will go and get my hat. Miss Mortimer is in
+the school-room, papa."
+
+[Illustration: EAGER WATCHING.]
+
+Mr. Smith walked across the grass, and entered the school-room by a
+folding glass-door that opened upon the lawn. Lilian returned presently;
+her shady straw hat fastened with blue ribbons, a little basket on her
+arm, and her face glowing with pleasure and excitement.
+
+"Now, Miss Mortimer, you said you would tell papa about my lessons
+to-day."
+
+The governess, a tall staid lady of about fifty, whose face betokened
+that her mind was full of grammars and dictionaries, smiled a little,
+and answered, "I have been informing your father of the marked
+improvement which you have lately made in your studies."
+
+"Yes, Lily, I have heard all about it," said Mr. Smith, looking down
+fondly into the bright little face that was raised to his. "And I have
+been telling Miss Mortimer of a treat that I have in store for you."
+
+"What is it, papa?" she cried eagerly.
+
+"Oh, I am not going to tell you, until we get to your favourite seat
+among the rocks."
+
+"Then don't let us lose another minute, papa," said Lilian, and they set
+off.
+
+Away over the breezy hill-side which overhung the sea; away through the
+furze, the gorse, and the large brake-ferns; away until they had left
+the pretty villa far behind them, and found themselves in the small
+sheltered bay where Mr. Smith's boat, the _White Lily_, was moored.
+
+"It is very calm, may we go out for a little way, papa?"
+
+"Yes, dear," said the artist, as he unfastened the padlock which moored
+the boat. Then he placed Lilian in the stern, and sprung in himself,
+taking the oars, and pushing away from the strand.
+
+The setting sun shed a flood of glory over the quiet bay, with its
+brilliantly coloured rocks, and its shore covered with white pebbles,
+and fell upon the little boat that danced over the rippling sea,
+lingering lovingly on the beautiful face of the artist's child as she
+bent forward to claim the promised secret.
+
+"Now, papa, what is the treat?"
+
+"Well, Lily, you know I have told you about Raymond and Madge."
+
+"Yes, papa; and I was going to have asked how Raymond was, and whether
+he liked the fruit I sent him, only the thought of the treat put it all
+out of my head."
+
+"He is much better, darling. And what would you say if you were soon to
+see him?"
+
+"Oh, papa!"
+
+[Illustration: A BEAUTIFUL SCENE.]
+
+"I have asked Madge and him to come here, that he may recover his
+strength; and I have come on to make all preparations. They will be here
+to-morrow."
+
+"Oh, joy, joy!" cried Lilian. "Mayn't I have a whole holiday, papa?"
+
+"Yes, to-morrow you shall; and after that Madge shall do her lessons
+with you."
+
+"And Raymond too, papa?"
+
+"No, darling. Raymond will do his lessons with me."
+
+"Shall you teach him to paint beautiful pictures as you do, papa?"
+
+"Yes, I hope so," replied the artist, smiling.
+
+Lilian drew a long-sigh of contentment.
+
+"I do wish it were to-morrow! Will you take them out in the boat, papa?"
+
+"Raymond will not be well enough at first; but by-and-by, I hope, we
+shall have some grand excursions."
+
+"And that dear little Madge that you have told me about; oh, papa, I
+shall love her so much! Do you think she will love me?"
+
+The fond father thought within himself that it would not be very easy
+for her to help doing so; but he only answered, "I think she will,
+Lily."
+
+And thus they talked in the pleasant evening light, until the red sun
+had dipped down behind the hills on the further coast; and then Mr.
+Smith moored the boat, and the father and daughter walked home in the
+red glow which the sun had left behind it.
+
+The rest of the evening passed away very slowly to Lilian, she was
+looking forward so eagerly to the morrow; and it was not until she had
+planned and replanned every kind of pleasure that was likely to be given
+to her, during the visit of her friends, and wondered over and over
+again what they would be like that sleep came over her; and before she
+knew anything more, the much longed-for morning had arrived.
+
+Mr. Smith had gone to meet the children at their landing-place; and
+about two o'clock Lilian heard the sound of the carriage-wheels coming
+near. Then a fit of shyness came over her; and she hung back, so that it
+was not until she heard her father's voice calling her that she went to
+the door, just in time to see him helping out of the carriage a tall,
+delicate-looking boy of about sixteen, followed by a quiet-looking
+little girl of twelve.
+
+"Here are your new friends, Lily; come and speak to them," said Mr.
+Smith.
+
+Then Lilian stepped forward, and shook hands with Raymond, and kissed
+Madge. Madge returned the kiss; but she seemed intent on watching
+Raymond, as if she had no other thought than to take care of him.
+
+"I will take Raymond to his room, and he had better lie down for a
+while," said Mr. Smith.
+
+The boy smiled faintly, but he was too tired to speak; so his friend and
+Madge helped him to the pretty room which had been prepared for him,
+overlooking the sea.
+
+He lay on the bed with his eyes fixed on the water; but very soon,
+overcome with the fatigue of the journey, he fell asleep; and when, a
+little while after, Madge stole softly into the room, she found him
+slumbering peacefully. For an instant she bent over him, and the dark
+earnest eyes were filled with tears of thankfulness that he was spared
+to her, and was likely to recover health and strength in this beautiful
+home. Then little Madge drew the curtain across the window to exclude
+the light from his eyes, and left the room as quietly as she had entered
+it.
+
+She found Lilian waiting for her at the foot of the stairs; and before
+long the two children had become quite confidential, and were rapidly
+making friends.
+
+In the evening Raymond was allowed to come down-stairs, and to lie on
+the sofa in the pretty drawing-room.
+
+Lilian came to his side with a handful of bright-coloured geraniums and
+white roses. "Papa says you like pretty things; and he told me I might
+bring you these."
+
+Raymond took them with a bright smile. They were not as beautiful as the
+child who gave them, glowing as the colours were.
+
+"Are you better?" said Lilian.
+
+"Yes, much better, thank you; I shall soon be quite well."
+
+"Do you like being here?"
+
+"Very much; and so does Madge," he answered, laying his hand on hers as
+she knelt beside him.
+
+"We are going to have great fun when you are well again; and I am to
+have shorter lessons; and Madge is going to do lessons with me; and you
+will do lessons with papa. He says so."
+
+Raymond lay very still, sometimes looking out at the sea, sometimes at
+the "airy fairy Lilian," by his side, sometimes at the beautiful
+pictures around the room. "I wonder who painted that one!" he said,
+pointing to a likeness of a lovely lady and child.
+
+[Illustration: RAYMOND AND LILIAN.]
+
+"It is mamma and me," said Lilian, a little sadly; and then pointing to
+one that hung near it, she said, "I like that picture better than any."
+
+"Whose is it?"
+
+"It is done by the great artist, Herbert Smith," she answered, laughing.
+
+Raymond looked at it with eager delight; and at this moment Lilian's
+father entered the room.
+
+"Chatterbox, I hope you are not tiring Raymond;" and he looked kindly
+and inquiringly at the invalid.
+
+"Not the least, sir; I was thinking that you are fortunate to possess so
+many of the paintings of Herbert Smith. How beautiful they are!" and the
+young artist's eye kindled with enthusiasm.
+
+His new friend smiled.
+
+"I am very fond of painting, Raymond."
+
+"You must be, sir, from the way you have talked to me about it, and from
+your having such beautiful pictures. Do you paint yourself?"
+
+"Why, Raymond," said Lilian, "don't you know--;" but a warning look from
+her father stopped her saying anything more. She only looked over at
+Madge, with her large blue eyes full of laughter.
+
+Then her father bent down over the boy, and said, "I paint a great deal,
+Raymond."
+
+"Oh, I am so glad!" said Raymond eagerly. "Then you will not think it
+wrong of me to want to be an artist."
+
+"So far from thinking it wrong, Raymond, I am going to help you in it. I
+am going to get you taught."
+
+A bright flush came over Raymond's face as he looked up for an
+explanation.
+
+"Who will teach me, sir?"
+
+"Mr. Herbert Smith."
+
+Raymond started up. "Do you know him, sir? Do you know Mr. Smith, the
+greatest artist that is living? Is he a relation of yours?"
+
+"Raymond, I am Herbert Smith," said his friend kindly.
+
+A look of wondering doubt passed over the boy's face, which quickly
+changed to one of intense veneration, almost of reverence, at feeling
+himself in the presence of this master mind. Then, as the thought of all
+his friend's former kindness came over him, and of this great privilege
+before him, he covered his face with his hands; and the tears, which he
+vainly tried to conceal, fell through his thin fingers.
+
+[Illustration: THE SURPRISE.]
+
+Madge bent down over him. "Raymond, dear Raymond, look up. Do not be sad
+now, it is all joy."
+
+"I am so glad, I cannot help it, Madge," said Raymond. "All my
+brightest dreams coming true. I shall be an artist yet."
+
+Mr. Smith turned away his head, his heart deeply moved by the boy's
+delight; but Lilian could not restrain her gladness.
+
+"And did you not know that papa was the great Herbert Smith?" she asked.
+"What fun! Did you know, Madge?"
+
+"Yes," said Madge, looking shyly into Raymond's face.
+
+"O Madge, how _could_ you let me go on talking to Mr. Smith about my
+poor little paintings without telling me."
+
+"He told me not to tell you," she said.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Smith; "I wanted, Raymond, to watch you for a little
+while, before you knew who I was. I wanted to see if your whole heart
+was really devoted to painting, and that you were likely to rise in your
+profession, before I offered you assistance. I am satisfied; and now
+shake hands: if you are willing to endure a life of labour, I think I
+can promise you success."
+
+"I am willing for anything," said Raymond. And to Madge he whispered,
+"You shall glory in me some day, little sister."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE SUCCESS.
+
+
+And the day came, after years of patient labour.
+
+The morning sun shone in brightly upon a room, in one of those pleasant
+villas which abound in the suburbs of London. A party were assembled at
+breakfast--an old, infirm man, and his son and daughter. The old man was
+Mr. Leicester, and the other two were Raymond and Madge. Their father
+had come back to them, broken down in health and spirits. Raymond met
+him accidentally in the streets of London, and brought him to the little
+home where he and Madge lived, and they had cared for him tenderly ever
+since.
+
+We last saw Raymond and Madge almost as children; we find them now grown
+up. Raymond's character has deepened. He is a great artist, and a great
+man also--for, added to the depth and strength of mind which the mastery
+of one subject gives, there were many noble traits in him--and many men
+now feel themselves privileged if they call Raymond Leicester their
+friend.
+
+Madge has the same character, and nearly the same face, as she had when
+a child. She is still Raymond's fireside genius, and a dutiful, tender
+daughter to her father.
+
+But we were speaking of that sunshiny morning when they were at
+breakfast. A newspaper lay by Raymond's side, and when he had sipped his
+coffee he unfolded it. "The Academy is open, Madge," he said quickly;
+then ran his eye down the long columns.
+
+Madge looked up eagerly, and saw the deepening colour in his cheek as he
+read. She took up the paper as he laid it down, quickly found the place,
+and her heart bounded as she read:--
+
+[Illustration: THE NOTICE IN THE NEWSPAPER.]
+
+          "But, without doubt, the picture which attracts
+          most notice is the one which Mr. Raymond Leicester
+          exhibits. We feel, as we study it, that we are
+          gazing on the work of a great man, and a
+          deservedly famous artist. He has not belied the
+          early promise of his youth; and that man must have
+          but little taste and good feeling who can move
+          away, after the contemplation of this masterpiece,
+          without feeling that he is the better for having
+          seen it," &c.
+
+The tears blinded Madge, so that she could read no more. But what more
+was there for her to read? The wish of her life was fulfilled. Raymond
+was a great artist--the world proclaimed him so--and he was her brother,
+her pride, and her glory.
+
+"Little Madge," and Raymond's hand rested with its caressing touch upon
+her head, "I feel that I owe it all to you."
+
+"No, no," she answered, laying her hand upon his. "No, not to me--to Mr.
+Smith."
+
+"Noble-hearted man!" said Raymond warmly; and then his voice sunk so low
+that only Madge could hear it. "I will go and ask for Lilian to-day."
+
+"God speed you!" said Madge, smiling through her tears; "and papa and I
+will go and look at your picture in the Academy."
+
+Anybody who had been in the Royal Academy that morning would have seen a
+feeble old man leaning on the arm of his daughter, lingering near the
+picture round which every one thronged. Madge was feasting on their
+praise of it, and repeating chosen bits to her father, who was very
+proud of his son now. It was a happy day to Madge, as she looked at the
+picture, and felt that Raymond was worthy of the praise that was
+bestowed upon it. She thanked God in her heart that he had spared
+Raymond's life, and allowed her to see this day.
+
+[Illustration: IN THE ROYAL ACADEMY.]
+
+Raymond gained Lilian for his wife, but he is "Madge's glory" still.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+TOWN DAISIES.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+A LONELY LIFE.
+
+
+Mr. Valentine Shipton was one of the wealthiest farmers in Dilbury; and
+yet every one pitied him. He did not ask them to do so, but they could
+not help it, he seemed so lonely and forlorn in the world. Nobody loved
+him, unless it might be the big cat which slept by his fireside; and
+even she did not care very much about him, so that she was left
+undisturbed in the possession of her own corner. Every day Mr. Shipton
+walked out and took a survey of his premises, gave directions to his
+men, and then returned to his large, old-fashioned, dreary-looking
+parlour, and smoked his pipe over the fire in the winter, or in his
+front porch in summer. Every Sunday he took down his best hat from its
+peg, and his large red Prayer Book from the shelf, and walked to the
+village church; but he never spoke to any one either going or returning,
+and even the little children shrunk away from him as he passed them.
+
+No one ever came across the threshold of Dilbury Farm, except the
+tenants to pay their rent to him, or his men to receive their wages; and
+Mr. Shipton never went away except to the neighbouring fairs, and then
+he always returned in the evening, looking more moody than ever.
+
+Picture then the astonishment of the old woman called Betty, who cooked
+his dinner, when her master, one evening in December, suddenly came into
+the kitchen, and taking his pipe from his mouth, said,--"Betty, I'm
+going to London to-morrow, and most likely I shall be away for a
+fortnight!"
+
+"To London, master! why, that be many miles off!"
+
+"I know it is, Betty; and mind you lock up the house every evening at
+six o'clock, and never allow any one across the door-step."
+
+Betty was too much astonished to make any answer, she only smoothed down
+her apron very vigorously, and gazed at her master as if he were
+slightly demented. Then a sudden idea occurred to her, and she gasped
+out, "Then, master, you'll want your best shirts put up; and I must see
+to it, and get the ruffles done up quick."
+
+Farmer Shipton gave her no answer, but turned round and left the room.
+
+"Sure it's some mistake," said old Betty musingly, as she put her irons
+in the fire; "he'll change again before to-morrow."
+
+But Mr. Shipton did not change; and the next morning early his gig was
+at the door, his old-fashioned portmanteau was put into it, and
+presently the old man himself got in and drove off as fast as the old
+mare was disposed to go. This part of the journey was all very well, and
+the farmer felt in better spirits than usual; the sky was bright and
+clear above him, and the gig went on smoothly enough over the well-made
+road to the station. But the train was an invention which Mr. Shipton
+utterly despised, and when he found himself seated in the railway
+carriage, and in quicker motion than he had ever experienced before, he
+felt inclined to stop at the first station and go back to Dilbury at a
+more reasonable pace. However, he had a motive for going to London, and
+so he resisted his inclination, and was whirled on until he arrived at
+the great metropolis. After a most confusing search for his portmanteau,
+he discovered it being whisked off by another man; but having succeeded
+at last in obtaining possession of it, and taking his place in an
+omnibus, he was soon rattling away over the paved streets in the
+direction of Islington. The omnibus deposited him at the corner of a
+street, and there he found a boy who was willing to carry his luggage to
+a small and retired row of houses which was his destination.
+
+"Which house?" said the lad when they had reached Crown Row. Farmer
+Shipton stopped, drew his spectacles from out of their hiding-place
+under his waistcoat, placed them on his nose, and then felt in his
+pocket for a leather pocket-book, which generally lived there. When he
+had opened it, he turned over the papers one by one--receipts for money,
+farm accounts, bills, &c.--until he came to two letters tied together.
+These he drew out. One of them was written in a trembling, almost
+illegible hand, and the other had a deep black edge to it--it was to
+this one he referred, and then folding it up again and replacing them
+both in the pocket-book, he turned to the boy and said,--
+
+"No. Five, boy--but stay, I want a lodging first; I must leave my box
+somewhere before I go out visiting."
+
+"No. Five--and here be lodgings to let," said the boy with a grin.
+
+"The very thing," said the old farmer, rubbing his hands; and then he
+added to himself, "Now I can watch the state of things quietly, without
+saying anything to anybody; I'll see what these folks are made of."
+
+He knocked at the door and it was opened by a tidy little girl, whose
+face would have been pretty if the fresh air of the country had brought
+the roses into it; at least so Farmer Shipton thought, as she dropped a
+courtesy to him.
+
+"Lodgings to let here?" he inquired in his own gruff, surly tone.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Got a room that would do me?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I think so."
+
+"Mother at home, girl, or your missus?"
+
+"Mother is, sir; will you please to walk inside?"
+
+"Put down the box, lad, and here's your sixpence;--shameful charge to
+make; why, in the part I come from, a bigger lad than you would have got
+no more for a whole day's work; but it's my belief this London is made
+up of thieves and fools! Here's a staircase dark as midnight! Why, they
+say country folks come to town to be _enlightened_--but it doesn't seem
+much like it! Thieves and fools--thieves and fools. Thieves to do the
+fools, and fools to be done by the thieves!" Thus grumbling, he got up
+the first flight of stairs, and paused at a door which the little girl
+who guided him opened. And here _we_ must pause for a moment, just to
+say that Farmer Shipton, for reasons best known to himself, dropped his
+name outside the door, and entered that room as Mr. Smith.
+
+A middle-aged woman, dressed in rather rusty black, and wearing a
+widow's cap, stood up as he appeared, and laid down some very fine
+needlework, which she was engaged upon. A girl about a year younger than
+the little maiden who had opened the door, was sitting on a low stool by
+her mother's side, cutting out a paper-pattern; and a boy of about nine
+years old was stretched on the rag-mat fast asleep. The room was
+scrupulously neat, but very poorly furnished; and the old farmer looked
+round keenly as he stood on the threshold. "Hum!" he said to himself,
+"no extravagance here, most certainly!" but aloud he said, "I want a
+lodging; are there any to be had?"
+
+"I have got a nice bedroom, sir; I'll show you," said the widow; "and
+you can have a small sitting-room down-stairs; but I only own the upper
+flight of this house."
+
+"Hum! one room would do!--can I board with you?"
+
+"Well, sir, our lodgers don't generally do that, but--"
+
+"Can't take the room unless I do," he interrupted; "I've not come to
+London to squander _my_ cash, I can tell you."
+
+There was a struggle in the widow's mind; she sorely wanted money, and
+she might not have another chance of letting the room. This grumpy old
+man might prove pleasanter on further acquaintance; at any rate he might
+not be so disagreeable as many another; and with one glance at her
+little sick boy upon the rug, the mother made up her mind and decided to
+take her lodger as a boarder.
+
+Mr. Smith was quite satisfied with his room, and though he pretended to
+grumble at the price asked for it, he really thought it moderate; so he
+unpacked his portmanteau, laid the shirts which Betty had done up so
+speedily and well in a drawer, and then sat down once more to read the
+letters which he had consulted before knocking at the door of No. 5.
+Shall we read them, too? it may, perhaps, give us some clue to the old
+man's secret.
+
+The first, as we said before, was written in a trembling hand, and
+hardly legible:--
+
+          "MY DEAR FATHER,--If I had strength and health to
+          do it, I would come to you, and never leave off
+          asking your pardon until you had given it. Father,
+          I am dying, and these few words are the prayer of
+          a dying man. It was wrong to leave you, even
+          though I didn't like the country, and longed for
+          the great city--it was wrong to leave you all
+          alone in your sorrow. If Val had lived he would
+          have been a better son to you than me--may God
+          forgive me. You will get this, father, when
+          perhaps it is too late; but if you have any pity,
+          any love left for your boy, come to me once
+          more--_once more_, father! I am leaving my wife
+          and four children quite unprovided for; will you
+          be a father to them? I do not ask it for _my_
+          sake, but for their helplessness--the fatherless
+          and the widow--"
+
+Here the trembling hand had failed, and a blot of ink showed that the
+pen had fallen from the writer's hand; it was taken up to add,--
+
+          "Come to me, dear father, and forgive your dying
+          son.
+
+                                            "ALAN SHIPTON."
+
+The father had _not_ gone, and the next letter was from the widow:--
+
+          "DEAR SIR,--My husband is dead--almost his last
+          words were, 'Will father come in time?'--he longed
+          to see you once more. He suffered very much at
+          the last, but he was very happy, and I look
+          forward to meeting him again in the land where
+          there is no more parting. I have moved to smaller
+          rooms with my children, at No. 5 Crown Row,
+          Islington, where I have taken the top flight in
+          the house, and hope to find a lodger to take the
+          one room which we shall not occupy. I shall be
+          able to earn sufficient money, I hope, by
+          dressmaking to support myself and my three
+          youngest children--my eldest boy Alan has gone to
+          sea. I wish I could think that my dear husband had
+          your entire forgiveness.--I remain, sir, yours
+          dutifully,
+
+                                          "ELLEN SHIPTON."
+
+The date of this letter was a year old, and the farmer had written
+underneath it, "Hypocrites! I know town folks better than they think!"
+
+Why then was he reading it over? Why was he in this house under the name
+of Mr. Smith? Why had he after so many months come to seek out these
+unknown relations? It was because the old man's heart was
+lonely--because underneath his gruff exterior he had a kindly
+heart--because he longed to have some one who would care for him and
+comfort his old age. This was why he had left his country home to come
+up to the great city. He had determined to find out his son's family,
+with the purpose of adopting one of the children, if he found that the
+faults which he believed to be inherent in all children of the town were
+such as he could get rid of without much trouble to himself; but he
+thought it would be easier to watch them if they did not know who he
+was; for, as he said to himself, "they are quite cunning enough to
+deceive me--town children always are." And now having given you this
+little insight into the old man's mind, let us return to the widow's
+room and make acquaintance with her and her children.
+
+"Mother," whispered Ellen, the little girl who had opened the door to
+the stranger, "is he really to be with us all day? How horrid it will
+be!"
+
+"Hush, my dear; don't let us think of that, let us think of the money we
+shall get, and all the good it will do our little Maurice. Poor child!
+how pale he looks there on the rug!"
+
+"He looks like father did," said Janet, the second daughter, who was
+cutting out the pattern by her mother's side. A shudder passed through
+Mrs. Shipton's frame, and for one moment she raised her hand to her
+face with an expression of pain.
+
+"Janet, don't say that," whispered Ellen. "It hurts mother."
+
+Janet looked up. "Mother, dear, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean so bad.
+Maurice is better than he was, isn't he? He had quite a colour this
+morning, and was not so tired as he was yesterday; and by the time Alan
+comes home, I expect he will be quite well."
+
+Her mother put her work down for a minute, and laid her hand upon
+Janet's fair hair--
+
+"My good little girl, I didn't think you meant to pain me, and I know
+how you love your little brother. You both help me beautifully in taking
+care of him, and if it's God's will I think he will get quite well--but
+he sadly wants care. If your dear grandmother was alive, I'd send him
+into the country to her for a little bit, to my old home. I know _that_
+fresh air would soon make him well again."
+
+"Mother, I'd like to see your home. The house with the roses growing
+over it, and the school where grandmother taught, and the church, and
+the green fields, and the hills, and the--"
+
+"Hush, Janet; here's the old gentleman."
+
+Mr. Smith came in and sat down. First he cleared his throat, then
+settled his stiff cravat, crossed his legs, and looked round on the
+little party.
+
+"Girls go to school, Mrs.--what's your name?"
+
+"Shipton, sir, Mrs. Shipton. No, sir, my little girls stop at home and
+help me."
+
+"Help, hum! not much help in them, never is in town girls--think of
+nothing but lark and fine dresses. Do they earn anything?"
+
+"No, sir, not yet; they will by-and-by, but I think they do quite enough
+now in helping me."
+
+"Hum! got any more children, Mrs. Shipton?"
+
+"One boy at sea, sir."
+
+"At sea!--ran away?"
+
+"No!" burst indignantly from Janet and Ellen; "he went because he got a
+good chance; and he didn't like going, but he said he wouldn't stop and
+burden mother."
+
+"He's a good son, sir--my boy Alan!" said the mother proudly.
+
+"Alan!" said the old man, lingering on the name; "why do you call him
+that?"
+
+"It was his father's name, sir," said the widow, as she bent her head
+lower over her work.
+
+Ellen noticed that the old gentleman bit his lip and looked down on the
+ground, and she thought he must be rather kind, because he did not ask
+any more questions, and did not look at her mother's sad face.
+
+At this moment Maurice roused himself from his heavy sleep, and looked
+round in stupid, slumbering wonder upon the stranger who seemed to have
+made himself so much at home.
+
+Janet ran to his side, and eagerly whispered the news, while Maurice
+rubbed his eyes and took a good look at the new-comer.
+
+"Hum! not much stuff in that little chap," said Mr. Smith.
+
+"He has been very ill," replied the mother, looking anxiously at her
+youngest child.
+
+"Doctor's bill to pay, I suppose?"
+
+"Yes," she answered hastily.
+
+"Make haste, boy, and get well--sick boys are expensive things."
+
+"What a queer man," said little Maurice.
+
+"Come, Maury, come to mother's room, and I'll put you neat," said Ellen
+kindly, as she took his little thin hand and led him away.
+
+Then Mr. Smith put on his spectacles and drew the paper from his pocket,
+and spoke no more until tea-time.
+
+After that meal was over, the mother went out to deliver her parcel of
+work, and the two little girls sat down with their sewing.
+
+Suddenly their lodger spoke: "Do you like stories, children?"
+
+"Yes, oh yes!" they answered eagerly, while a look of pleasure came over
+Maurice's pale, shy face.
+
+"What shall it be about?"
+
+"Do you know much about the country, sir?" said Janet.
+
+"Yes, my girl, more than most folks."
+
+"Please, then, tell us about that," said Ellen.
+
+The old man looked satisfied, and began a long description of the
+country delights of his boyhood. The children listened attentively to
+them; it was like some fairy tale, or a story of enchanted ground.
+
+"Father used to tell us things like that," said little Janet.
+
+"Did he?" said the old man quickly. "Did your father love the country?"
+
+"Yes; but he ran away and left it, because he thought he would like the
+town better," replied Ellen.
+
+"And did he?" asked the stranger, while he looked keenly into the little
+girl's face.
+
+"No," she answered thoughtfully. "He said it wasn't right of him, and
+that he had often wished himself back again there;--but I don't believe
+father ever did what was wrong."
+
+"Hum!" Mr. Smith suddenly looked away towards the fire and cleared his
+throat violently; as he did so, his eyes rested on little Maurice, who
+was sitting on his little stool in the chimney-corner, with the
+firelight falling on his face. The old man started and muttered low,
+"Alan, my little lad!" Then gave an impatient pshaw! and turned again
+to Ellen.
+
+"The river ran right through the fields, and my brother used to bathe in
+it, and fish--ay, many's the hour we've spent on its banks with a rod
+and basket--many's the dish we've brought back in pride to our mother."
+
+Suddenly Maurice got up and came to his side. "Did you ever see a boy
+drowned?"
+
+Mr. Smith looked at the child in silent amazement for a moment, but
+Maurice repeated his question.
+
+"Did you?"
+
+"Yes," answered the old man in a tremulous voice, while his hands shook
+as he clasped them together.
+
+"Uncle Val was drowned," Maurice went on, "quite drowned in the
+water--father said so--he was drowned deep down under the willow-trees."
+
+"Hush, Maury dear; it was very dreadful: father used to sigh when he
+spoke of Uncle Val, and Maurice is always thinking about him; please,
+forgive him, sir."
+
+Mr. Smith did not answer, and at this moment the mother came in.
+
+The children received her with delight, telling her, immediately upon
+her entrance, that Mr. Smith came from the country, and could tell
+beautiful stories. Mrs. Shipton thanked him gratefully for being so kind
+to her little ones, and began to feel more comfortable about the
+expediency of having admitted him into their family circle.
+
+It was soon time for the children to go to bed; but before he left the
+room, little Maurice knelt down beside his mother and said his evening
+prayer. Mr. Smith watched the child with curious attention as he prayed,
+and once or twice with a sudden abruptness he cleared his throat and
+crossed and uncrossed his legs.
+
+Maurice never raised his head, but went on with the simple words, "Bless
+dear mother, and Nellie, and Janet; and take care of Alan out on the sea
+this night, and bring him safe home; and bless grandfather, and take
+care of him now that he is an old man. For Jesus Christ's sake. Amen."
+
+Why did the lodger start? Why did he so hastily dash his hand across his
+eyes, then stand up and go to his own room? When there, why did the old
+man let the bitter scalding tears run down his cheeks? why did those
+broken, mournful words come from his lips,--
+
+"Alan! Alan! my son; would God I had died for thee, Alan, my son!" He
+paused, then went on more sorrowfully:--"Why, why did you leave me, if
+you loved me? Oh, my boy! why did you break my heart, Alan?--Dead! dead!
+and I am alone now; yet you taught your children to pray for the lonely old
+man. Bless you, my boy--too late--too late--my blessing would have made
+you happy in life, but now it can do nothing for you."
+
+Then the old man put his head outside the door, and called to Ellen, who
+was passing, to say that he was going to bed.
+
+But it was long before sleep came to him, for he lay thinking of the old
+days, long ago, when children had loved him, when life had been sunny
+and warm,--why had it grown so chill and cold of late? Ah, Farmer
+Shipton, there is but one thing which can make life full of warmth and
+sunshine, and that is the love of God.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+TRANSPLANTED DAISIES.
+
+
+A month soon passed away, and old Mr. Smith had become quite one of the
+household. He was very kind in his manner to the children, though
+sometimes blunt and abrupt, but he seemed constantly to be watching
+their mother, with a suspicion which she could not understand. However,
+he was out a great deal, and she did not find him at all in the way, and
+she was glad the children had made friends with him.
+
+"Mother, I like Mr. Smith; he's very good to us; but isn't he a funny
+man?" said Ellen one evening, and she looked up from her work as she
+spoke.
+
+"I think he's very kind to you, my dear, and you are quite right to like
+him," replied Mrs. Shipton slowly, for there was something about her
+lodger which she could not understand; and she was not quite sure
+whether she liked him or not.
+
+"He goes out to see London, doesn't he, mother?"
+
+"Yes; he has never been here before, and there is plenty for a stranger
+to see."
+
+"But, mother."
+
+"Well, Ellen?"
+
+"I think he's very kind, and all that; but I don't think he's happy:
+often and often when I look up, I see him looking at me with his eyes
+full of tears. Isn't it odd and queer for a man to cry. Father never
+cried."
+
+Mrs. Shipton did not answer; why should the child know of all the bitter
+tears which her father had shed?
+
+"Perhaps Mr. Smith has some trouble that we do not know of, dear."
+
+"I think he has, mother; but wasn't it kind of him to get that bottle of
+wine for Maurice?"
+
+"Yes; poor little Maurice! Ellen, I sometimes think--," and the mother's
+voice trembled.
+
+"What, mother?"
+
+"I think he's going from me too;" and the poor woman put down her work,
+and bowed her head in her hands.
+
+Little Ellen came up close to her mother, and slipping her arm round her
+neck, laid her face close to hers, and whispered, "Mother, mother, don't
+cry--God will take care of Maurice; he won't let him die."
+
+"I think sometimes that he will, he is so like poor father, and he seems
+so delicate and weakly, and I have no means of getting him the
+strengthening things he needs."
+
+"But, mother, he is better than he was."
+
+"Not much, dear; he has never got over that illness, and sometimes I
+think that he will not live much longer; but I cannot let him go--my
+boy--my youngest--my little Maurice."
+
+"Mother, we will pray to God to make him well; and you say God always
+hears us when we pray."
+
+"Yes, dear, yes, he does; pray to him, dear Nellie; we will all pray to
+him to spare little Maurice."
+
+The mother and daughter had not perceived that Mr. Smith had entered the
+room, and was standing opposite to them.
+
+"What's the matter, eh? what's the matter?" said the old man, as Ellen
+looked up, and he caught sight of the tears on her cheeks. Mrs. Shipton
+got up quickly and hurried out of the room; and Ellen dried her eyes,
+and busied herself in putting the work away.
+
+Just then Janet came in with Maurice, and they eagerly claimed a story
+from Mr. Smith. The old man looked earnestly at them for a minute, and
+then said, "I don't know any story to-night, little ones."
+
+"Then tell us something about the country," said Maurice.
+
+"You should see a corn-field, children; that's the sight," said Mr.
+Smith. "Oh, how you'd like to see them binding up the sheaves, and how
+quickly the sickles cut down the ripe grain!"
+
+"But don't the men cut down beautiful flowers at the same time?" said
+Janet. "Father used to tell us about the flowers."
+
+The old man was silent for a moment, and then said quickly,
+"Flowers--ah! poor children, you don't know what flowers are here, in
+your smoky, dirty town."
+
+"What kind of flowers grow in the country?" said Ellen.
+
+"Why, there's primroses, and violets, and roses, and honeysuckle, and
+poppies, and a hundred things."
+
+"Well, we've got flowers in the town too," said Janet.
+
+"Indeed," said Mr. Smith incredulously. "I haven't discovered them yet,
+except a few things, stunted and withered, and all boxed up in smoky
+gardens."
+
+Janet smiled to herself, and determined that she would show the country
+stranger the truth of her words.
+
+The next day was Sunday, and Mr. Smith went to the nearest church with
+Ellen and Janet, while Mrs. Shipton stayed at home with Maurice.
+
+Janet did not return with the others, but when they had been in a few
+minutes, her bounding footstep was heard on the stairs, and she entered
+with a whole handful of daisies, which she held out triumphantly to Mr.
+Smith.
+
+"There!" she cried, "there are flowers in the town!"
+
+Mr. Smith laughed. "Where did these come from, little one?"
+
+"Out of the churchyard, from off father's grave," said Janet, dropping
+her voice.
+
+Mr. Smith took up the flowers and looked at them as if he was trying to
+discover how they were made, so intently were his eyes bent upon them.
+
+"Mother says we are like daisies, sometimes," said Janet merrily.
+
+"How?" asked the old man.
+
+The child coloured, and did not answer; but Mrs. Shipton replied for
+her,--"Because whenever I am gloomy and unhappy, these children brighten
+me and cheer me by looking up to the sun; they always find out a sunny
+side to my troubles."
+
+Mr. Smith laid his hand lightly on Janet's head, and said, "I have
+learnt many things since I came to London, but I did not know that I
+should find country flowers in this large, wicked place."
+
+"We value them more because they are not plenty, and because we have not
+many other things," said Mrs. Shipton.
+
+"Ay, ay--well, can town daisies be transplanted, think you?"
+
+Ellen looked wonderingly at the old man, for she saw that his eyes were
+fixed on Janet with a meaning smile, but the little girl herself seemed
+quite unconscious of it, and answered quickly, "If you have plenty of
+flowers in the country, you don't want them."
+
+The strange lodger laughed, but it was a rather sad laugh. "I do want
+them," he answered; and then, after pausing for a minute or two, he went
+on abruptly, "Mrs. Shipton, I've been a month with you, haven't I?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Well, I must go home to-morrow; now, I've got something to say to you.
+You're not rich, and there's no nonsense about you to pretend you are."
+
+The widow's colour was heightened, but she had grown accustomed to her
+lodger's abrupt manner of speaking, so she took no notice of his remark,
+and he went on,--
+
+"I'm a lonely old man, and have neither chick nor child to care for me.
+I didn't believe anything pure and innocent could be found in this
+place; but I've discovered some daisies, and I want to dig up one and
+take it back to my home."
+
+"I'll dig up one for you to-morrow," said Janet eagerly; but Mrs.
+Shipton saw his meaning, and she became very pale, and looked anxiously
+at her child.
+
+"Thank you, my dear," said the old man, putting his arm round her. "Now,
+I want you to come and be my own little girl, and live with me in the
+country."
+
+"And go away from mother?" said Janet, lifting her eyes to his face.
+
+"Yes; come and be mine, and perhaps I'd bring you to see your mother
+sometimes."
+
+Janet looked away to her mother, and saw that her eyes were full of
+tears; then she sprang into her mother's arms and hid her face on her
+shoulder.
+
+"I will promise to take all care of her," said the old man; "and the
+country would do her all the good in the world."
+
+"I can't leave mother! no, no, no!" sobbed little Janet.
+
+"I would adopt her for my own, and provide for her liberally," said Mr.
+Smith. "Come, Mrs. Shipton, you're a sensible woman, you know how much
+better it would be for your child."
+
+"I cannot give her up, sir," said the mother anxiously; "she is too
+young to leave me."
+
+"Well, then, may I have Ellen?"
+
+Ellen shrank to her mother's side. "No, no!" she whispered. A
+disappointed look crossed the old man's face. "Come, Mrs. Shipton, you
+are slaving your life away for these children, will you lose so good a
+chance of providing for one of them?"
+
+"I'll go if I ought, mother, if it would be better for you and the
+others," said Ellen bravely; but she put her hands over her face, that
+her mother might not see how much those words cost her.
+
+"No, sir," said the widow firmly, as she drew her children closely to
+her; "God has given me these children, and he will give me the means of
+keeping them."
+
+Mr. Smith cleared his throat violently.
+
+"Well, then," he muttered, "I suppose I must live and
+die--lonely--lonely."
+
+Mrs. Shipton's eye wandered wistfully to Maurice, who was looking on
+with eyes full of wonder.
+
+"Sir, you are very, very kind," she said, and then paused.
+
+"Don't talk of it--I can't get what I want," said the old man.
+
+"I cannot bear giving up one of them," said the widow; "but there's
+Maurice,--the child is ill, I believe he will die here in the town, but
+he might live in the country; will you take him, sir?" and then, having
+said thus much, Mrs. Shipton quite broke down, and hid her face among
+Janet's curls.
+
+At this moment the conversation was interrupted by a scream from
+Maurice, as the door was opened, and a boy in a sailor's dress stood
+amongst them.
+
+"Alan!"
+
+"My boy, my boy!" and Mrs. Shipton held out her arms to him.
+
+[Illustration: ALAN'S RETURN.]
+
+Mr. Smith looked at him for a minute, and then putting his hand to his
+head, he hastily left the room. It seemed as if he saw his own Alan
+again, in all the strength and beauty of his boyhood. Before the lodger
+returned to the sitting-room, Alan had been told who he was, and what he
+wanted to do; and though he thought for Maurice's sake it was best, the
+way in which his arm was twisted round his little brother's neck, told
+how sore a trial it would be to part with him. Maurice alone was
+unmoved; the thought of the country seemed to have great attractions for
+him, and Mr. Smith's stories and general kindness had quite won his
+heart. Mr. Smith lifted him on to his knee, but did not speak a word,
+for he was looking intently at Alan all the time.
+
+"Do you like being at sea, Alan?" asked Janet.
+
+Alan shook his head, but said quickly, "Janet, it doesn't matter what
+one likes; it's what's best;" and a brave courageous smile came upon the
+boy's handsome face.
+
+"Isn't he like his father?" whispered Mrs. Shipton to Ellen.
+
+"Yes; he smiles just like him," said Ellen.
+
+"Just like him," said Mr. Smith, in a low, deep voice, that startled
+them all. Maurice was frightened, and slipped down off his knee, and
+Ellen looked in her mother's face in silent astonishment. "Alan, Alan,
+my son!" and the old man rose up and came over to the sailor-boy's side.
+Alan stood up, and his grandfather put one hand on his shoulder, passed
+his hand over his dark curly hair, and then drawing him closely into his
+arms, said, while the tears ran down his cheeks, "Alan, be my son,
+instead of him that's gone."
+
+"Who is it, mother?" asked Maurice fearfully.
+
+But Mr. Smith, or, as we may now call him again by his rightful name,
+old Farmer Shipton, answered, "I am the grandfather whom you have been
+taught to pray for! Ellen, my daughter, my own Alan's wife, forgive me;
+I am your father now!"
+
+Then Mrs. Shipton came to him, knelt down beside him, and laying her
+hand in his, said, "Alan always said you would come! Father, have you
+forgiven him?"
+
+"Ay," said the old man; "may God forgive me as freely. And now, daughter
+Ellen, you must never leave me; and your children must be mine, and I
+must have you all. Alan will leave the sea and become my eldest son,
+and there's room in the old house for you all. Will you come, little
+daisy?" and Janet smiled gladly as she answered, "Yes, grandfather."
+
+"God be thanked for all he has taught me in this room," said Farmer
+Shipton. "Ellen, my little one, will you love me too?"
+
+"I'll try," said Ellen shyly; "but why did you want us to leave mother?"
+
+"I don't know," said the old man gravely. "I came to London for the
+purpose of finding out if there was any good in any of you; and then I
+could not make up my mind to telling you who I was, until I had watched
+you and tried you to the utmost; but when I saw Alan, I could wait no
+longer.--Alan, will you be my son? I'm an old man, and all alone."
+
+The sailor-boy went to his mother's side, and looking into her tearful
+face fondly, he said, "Mother, what do _you_ say?"
+
+A smile crossed her lips as she looked at him proudly, and answered, "Be
+as good a son to your grandfather as you are to me, Alan, for that
+would have pleased your father. Oh, if he could but know this!"
+
+Then Alan shook hands with his grandfather, and said, "Will you teach me
+to be a farmer, sir? We'll all like to live with you very much."
+
+A few evenings after, the whole party were comfortably established in
+the old farmhouse at Dilbury, to Betty's great delight and astonishment.
+
+The anxious mother soon had the pleasure of seeing the colour brought
+back into the cheeks of her little Maurice; and Janet and Ellen made
+acquaintance with the delights of country life. They often came home
+from woodland rambles laden with wild-flowers, which they exhibited with
+pride and delight; but their grandfather always declared that no flowers
+would ever appear so beautiful to him as his own little Town Daisies!
+
+[Illustration: .FINIS.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+Page 62, repeated word "can" deleted (if I can help it)
+
+Page 66, word "on" inserted into text (on long rambling)
+
+Page 94, "anyrate" changed to "any rate" (at any rate he)
+
+Page 105, "your" inserted into text (taught your children)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Artist., by F.M. S.
+
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