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"Now," said he to himself, "this gentleman will talk me dead, and leave me no richer in coin, and poorer in time and patience." The picture was placed in a light, the visitor sat down before it. A long pause ensued. "Has he fainted?" thought Gatty, ironically; "he doesn't gabble."
Gatty's eyes were large and spiritual; yes, spiritual was the word for them. John's eyes were small, and, well, spiritual would never be the word for them. Unfortunately, John had been on the field first, before the unique appearance of Mr. Gatty, and Aggie felt that she was bound in honor to consider him. She had been considering him for some time without any compulsion.
So Gatty got applauded on all sides, for Madame was reminded if it had not been for her thieving propensities she would never have had the nice quantities of warm water we could now heat for her bath. Therefore she pocketed her principles at the shrine of her baths, at least to a certain extent. Quiet prevailed, lessons predominated, we were all getting very stupid again.
She told him Gatty's case, and he instantly promised to see that artist's pictures, particularly an "awfu' bonny ane;" the hero of which she described as an English minister blessing the bairns with one hand, and giving orders to kill the puir Scoetch with the other. "C'est e'gal," said Christie in Scotch, "it's awfu' bonny." Gatty reached home late; his mother had retired to rest.
"And horrible stuff it is without any milk," whispered Gatty back again, "I wonder at his taste." I began to be quite affected by his manner, while the others yawned, and yawned, until I thought all their jaws would be broken. Suddenly the darkness came on, as it always did, at once, and he was roused from his musings by eager good nights.
She had very pretty small white hands. Gatty thought it would be delightful to cut down a tree, and muttered something about the impossibility of learning lessons and building a house at the same time. I should be only too willing to give them holidays every day if I were their governess."
Serena had found a perfect horde of turtle's eggs, besides eggs innumerable of all kinds of birds. Gatty, we all knew, could not have discovered much, for she had been running from one Mother to another, flying off again to the girls, helping the little ones in innumerable difficulties, and doing anything but minding her own duties.
And at the word she knelt on the floor, whipped out a paper of sugar-plums and said to him she had christened "Jamie." "Heb! Here's sweeties till ye." Out went Jamie's arms, as if he had been a machine and she had pulled the right string. "Ah, that will do," said Gatty, and sketched away.
The three girls were not far off; the two elder ones making pretence to read, but looking more inclined to snooze, while the restless Gatty utterly prevented their pursuing either occupation.
"He was to work, and he would soon forget her." Poor boy! he wanted to work; his debt weighed on him; a week's resolute labor might finish his first picture and satisfy his creditor. The subject was an interior. He set to work, he stuck to work, he glued to work, his body but his heart? Ah, my poor fellow, a much slower horse than Gatty will go by you, ridden as you are by a leaden heart.
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