r,"
I said, looking down into her eager eyes; "you ought not to have a
model of six-and-twenty. Hyacinthus was probably sixteen."

"You don't know how old he was!" she said, mockingly, her azure, sunny
eyes lighting up with laughter, too, as she leant on the bending
maul-stick and looked up at me.

"No, I don't know," I answered; "but I can infer it. If we only went
upon what we actually know we should not go very far."

"Well, he might have been as much as nineteen, and you don't look quite
six-and-twenty; and the remaining difference I can soften down. Have
you any other excuse to make to get out of the bother of sitting?"

"You are a horrid little wretch to put it like that," I answered, "and
I won't say another word of advice. Paint your Greek youth as you
please. Of course, you'll give him this mustache with waxed ends? It's
very appropriate!"

"No; of course I shan't. Now, Victor, do be sensible. You can be so
nice at times!"

"Can I really? You are kind!"

"I want to hear about the manuscript. Was it accepted?" she said very
gently, with her hand on mine.

"Well, that's soon told," I answered. "It wasn't."

She said nothing. Probably she knew that the mere expression "I am
sorry" would be inadequate to say to a man who felt every failure as
keenly as I did, and I hastened to remove her difficulty.

"Don't let us talk of it," I said. "Tell me of the new conception."

"It is to be called 'The Death of Hyacinthus,'" she said, glancing at
the vast, vacant canvas, on which, doubtless, her eye saw the whole
vision already. "The scene is to be flooded with sunlight, that pours
in upon a green, open glade. The life-sized figure of Hyacinthus will
be standing three-quarters towards the spectator, and a little towards
the rush of light from the setting sun. His eyes are to be fixed upon
the quoit which will be here, at this end of the canvas, opposite him.
It will be tinged blood-red in the sun's rays, and seem a little above
him."

She paused, with her eyes on the canvas. She had drifted away on the
stream of her idea. "And what about the two gods?" I asked.

She started.

"Oh yes, I was going to tell you. Zephyrus will only be represented by
the effect of the wind seen on the bushes, on the trees, and every
blade of grass or fern in the picture. These small tamarisk trees that
fringe the glade will be bent nearly double. The spirit of the wind
must be in the whole painting. That will be the great effect