an't tell you _when_ she learned
to read, Miss Kimpsey--it seemed to come to her. She has
often reminded me of what you see in the biographies of
distinguished people about their youth. There are really
a great many points of similarity sometimes. I shouldn't
be surprised if Elfrida did anything. I wish _I_ had
had her opportunities!"

"She's growing very good-looking," remarked Miss Kimpsey.

"It's an interesting face," Mrs. Bell returned. "Here
is her last photograph. It's full of soul, I think. She
posed herself," Mrs. Bell added unconsciously.

It was a cabinet photograph of a girl whose eyes looked
definitely out of it, dark, large, well shaded, full of
a desire to be beautiful at once expressed and fulfilled.
The nose was a trifle heavily blocked, but the mouth had
sensitiveness and charm. There was a heaviness in the
chin, too, but the free springing curve of the neck
contradicted that, and the symmetry of the face defied
analysis. It was turned a little to one side, wistfully;
the pose and the expression suited each other perfectly.

"_Full_ of soul!" responded Miss Kimpsey. "She takes
awfully well, doesn't she! It reminds me--it reminds me
of pictures I've seen of Rachel, the actress, really it
does."

"I'm afraid Elfrida has no talent _that_ way." Mrs.
Bell's accent was quite one of regret.

"She seems completely wrapped up in her painting just
now," said Miss Kimpsey, with her eyes still on the
photograph.

"Yes; I often wonder what her career will be, and sometimes
it comes home to me that it must be art. The child can't
help it--she gets it straight from me. But there were no
art classes in my day." Mrs. Bell's tone implied a large
measure of what the world had lost in consequence. "Mr.
Bell doesn't agree with me about Elfrida's being predestined
for art," she went on, smiling; "his whole idea is that
she'll marry like other people."

"Well, if she goes on improving in looks at the rate she
has, you'll find it difficult to _prevent_, I should
think, Mrs. Bell." Miss Kimpsey began to wonder at her
own temerity in staying so long. "Should you be opposed
to it?"

"Oh, I shouldn't be _opposed_ to it exactly. I won't say
I don't expect it. I think she might do better, myself;
but I dare say matrimony will swallow her up as it does
everybody--almost everybody--else." A finer ear than Miss
Kimpsey's might have heard in this that to overcome Mrs.
Bell's objections matrimony must take a very attra