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Updated: May 7, 2025
When he entered Roger's room, humming a tune to himself, he neither looked like a man who had returned from a funeral or from an altercation in the drawing-room. In five minutes he was in possession of most of what had taken place during his absence of Roger's cold, of the painting-lessons, of Tom's reminiscences of Christy's Minstrels, and most of all of Hodder's tribulation.
What have you got? An idea?" "Yes. Rosalind, do you know I'm going to get some painting-lessons?" "Where? Oh, I wish I could afford some too. Is there any one near here who teaches?" "Yes. Some one who's just starting. A rather jolly girl, only she has an awful temper; and I'm afraid, when she sees what a poor hand I make, she'll have no patience with me."
But, oh, the things she had seen, and done! She could talk French and German; she had taken painting-lessons from real artists, and had some pretty studies for Hanny, in a box not yet unpacked. She had brought the friendship ring, which was two tiny hands clasped over a sapphire with diamond sparks around it. Hanny's eyes shone with delight; she was getting quite a collection in the way of gifts.
I say, will your tutor mind your having painting-lessons of me?" "Mind? Not he. I shouldn't be surprised if he wants to have some too." Rosalind laughed. "That would be too terrible," said she. "But I must go now. Will you lend me this picture for a little? I'd like to look at it again." Roger laughed. "Oh yes, if you'll promise not to fall in love with him for good."
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