Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. "Adorable girl!" he cried, in the most impassioned tone, and with the most impassioned look he could command. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. Her senses were prickled when she felt a new pair of eyes upon her. Mr.
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