r!" cried Zack, catching all Valentine's
enthusiasm on the instant. "Let's go up stairs and tell Mrs. Blyth about
it directly."

"Stop a minute, Zack," interposed Mr. Blyth. "What time ought you to be
back in the City? it's close on two o'clock now."

"Oh! three o'clock will do. I've got lots of time, yet--I can walk it in
half-an-hour."

"You have got about ten minutes more to stay," said Valentine in his
firmest manner. "Occupy them if you like, in going up stairs to Mrs.
Blyth, and take Madonna with you. I'll follow as soon as I've put away
my brushes."

Saying those words, Mr. Blyth walked to the place where Madonna was
still at work. She was so deeply engaged over her drawing that she had
never once looked up from it, for the last quarter-of-an-hour, or more;
and when Valentine patted her shoulder approvingly, and made her a sign
to leave off, she answered by a gesture of entreaty, which eloquently
enough implored him to let her proceed a little longer with her
employment. She had never at other times claimed an indulgence of this
kind, when she was drawing from the Antique--but then, she had never, at
other times, been occupied in making a copy which was secretly intended
as a present for Zack.

Valentine, however, easily induced her to relinquish her port-crayon. He
laid his hand on his heart, which was the sign that had been adopted to
indicate Mrs. Blyth. Madonna started up, and put her drawing materials
aside immediately.

Zack, having thrown away the end of his cigar, gallantly advanced and
offered her his arm. As she approached, rather shyly, to take it, he
also laid his hand on his heart, and pointed up stairs. The gesture
was quite enough for her. She understood at once that they were going
together to see Mrs. Blyth.

"Whether Zack really turns out a painter or not," said Valentine to
himself, as the door closed on the two young people, "I believe I have
hit on the best plan that ever was devised for keeping him steady. As
long as he comes to me regularly, he can't break out at night, and get
into mischief. Upon my word, the more I think of that notion of mine
the better I like it. I shouldn't at all wonder if my evening Academy
doesn't end in working the reformation of Zack!"

When Mr. Blyth pronounced those last words, if he could only have
looked a little way into the future--if he could only have suspected how
strangely the home-interests dearest to his heart were connected with
his succe