'Papa,' cried Amy, gently catching his arm, 'will you just stay for a
few minutes; I have something to say to you;' and a deep flush of
crimson suffused her cheek as she spoke. Beaufort turned
hesitatingly. 'It is my birthday,' she pursued--' I am this day
nineteen.'

'That is no subject for rejoicing, girl,' he doggedly observed.

'I have been looking forward to this period with intense anxiety,
meaning then to make you acquainted with a subject which has long
engrossed my thoughts,' she timidly said.

'No foolish love affair, I hope?' Beaufort almost fiercely demanded,
looking sternly in his daughter's agitated and flushed countenance as
he uttered the words. 'Perhaps,' he sarcastically continued, without
giving her time to reply--'perhaps you deem yourself marriageable at
the matron-like' age of nineteen, and have selected some country boor
for my son-in-law?'

This speech was directed at Herbert Lyddiard, and Amy felt it; but
her thoughts were at this moment occupied by another subject of
absorbing interest. 'No,' she returned with modest dignity; 'I have
at present no desire to alter _my_ condition, but I have for years
been intent upon bettering _yours_. I may be presumptuous in
supposing it possible that any effort of mine could do so; but I was
resolved to make the trial, and this shall speak for me.' As she
concluded, she drew from a closet the picture she had so anxiously
prepared, and displayed it to her parent's astonished gaze. Beaufort
could not speak, but stood for some minutes immovable, with his eyes
fixed on the piece, as if doubting the reality of what he beheld.

'Amy,' he exclaimed, 'is it possible that this is your performance?'

'It is, father.'

'And you have had no teacher?'

'Yes, you have been, my teacher. For eight long years I have been
your pupil--a silent but a most attentive pupil. I owe all my
knowledge to you.'

'It is admirable,' he murmured, 'and the very thing I want; as like
my execution as if I myself had done it.'

'Do you say so, my father?' Amy exultingly exclaimed. 'Do you say so?
That is praise beyond what I had ever dared to hope for;' and, for
the first time in her life, she threw herself into her parent's
embrace.

Beaufort re-examined the work. 'Did you intend it to pair my Prospero
and Miranda?' he asked.

'I did, though not with the idea of its ever being sold as such. I
greatly admired your father and daughter, and thought I would attempt
a similar piec