so curious, and most of
it so clean! And, oh, the windmills, and the queer costumes that have
not changed in a century!"

Beside that there was a water-colour, a study of the most elegant
tulips, painted from a real bed.

Hanny was wild with delight. They hung the pictures in her room, though
Doctor Joe declared they ought to go in his study. He pretended to feel
very badly that Daisy had not done anything for him.

"I will wait until I can paint something really worthy," she replied
with a bright flush. "I owe you so much, that I ought to give you the
very best. I mean to go on with my lessons. I love the work, and if I
have any talent, it certainly is that."

"But you used to draw figures, faces," said Hanny, "and they were so
real."

"In the summer I took lessons in miniature painting on ivory. I must
confess that is my ambition; but it will take years to attain to
perfection. I suppose now I ought to go to studying solid branches," and
she laughed lightly. "I've begun wrong end first, with the
accomplishments. But I had to talk German, for mamma wouldn't bother.
And as she had not forgotten all her French, she went at that with me,
and so I am a tolerable scholar. But I dare say Hanny could twist me all
up with mathematics. I only know enough to count change. Still, I am
quite an expert in foreign money. And, Hanny, were my sentences
fearfully and wonderfully constructed, and did I slip up often on
spelling?"

"I am quite sure you did not," protested Hanny.

"I do suppose she ought to go to a good school," said Mrs. Jasper.

"I am afraid I should not like school now. I could no longer be the
heroine. And how could I descend to an ordinary station in life? Oh, Dr.
Underhill, can't you interpose on the score of my still delicate
health."

She had such a pretty colour in her cheeks, and her eyes shone with
merriment.

"Doctor, you really must begin to be severe with her. She has her own
way quite too much."

But it was a very charming way, they all thought. She roused Hanny to an
unwonted brightness. Even grandmother laid claim to her, for she was
delighted with her piquant description of places and people. She had
heard Jenny Lind, and several other noted singers; but it seemed to her
that the ovation to the Swedish Nightingale in New York must have been
magnificent.

Jim claimed her when he was indoors; and they had many a merry bout. It
hardly seemed possible that the few years could have wrought s