risp, business-like way. They were all
mounted and framed; they stood very well against the
wall; but Mr. Bell, who began hopefully, was presently
obliged to try to hide his disappointment, the row was
so persistently black and white. Mrs. Bell, on the sofa,
had the look of postponing her devotions.

"You seem to have done a great many of these--etchings,"
said Mr. Bell.

"Oh, papa! They're not etchings, they're subjects in
charcoal--from casts and things."

"They do you credit--I've no doubt they do you credit.
They're very nicely drawn," returned her father, "but
they're a good deal alike. We wont be able to hang more
than two of them in the same room. Was _that_ what they
gave you the medal for?"

Mr. Bell indicated a drawing of Psyche. The lines were
delicate, expressive, and false; the relief was imperfect,
yet the feeling was undeniably caught. As a drawing it
was incorrect enough, but its charm lay in a subtle
spiritual something that bad worked into it from the
girl's own fingers, and made the beautiful empty classic
face modernly interesting. In view of its inaccuracy the
committee had been guilty of a most irregular proceeding
in recognizing it with a medal; but in a very young art
school this might be condoned.

"It's a perfectly lovely thing," interposed Mrs. Bell
from the sofa. "I'm sure it deserves one."

Elfrida said nothing. The study was ticketed, it had
obviously won a medal.

Mr. Bell looked at it critically. "Yes, it's certainly
well done. In spite of the frame--I wouldn't give ten
cents for the frame--the effect is fine. We most find a
good light for that. Oh, now we come to the oil-paintings.
We both presumed you would do well at the oil-paintings;
and for my part," continued Mr. Bell definitely, "I like
them best. There's more variety in them." He was holding
at arm's-length, as he spoke, an oblong scrap of filmy
blue sky and marshy green fields in a preposterously
wide, flat, dull gold frame, and looking at it in a
puzzled way. Presently he reversed it and looked again.

"No, papa," Elfrida said, "you had it right side up
before." She was biting her lip, and struggling with a
desire to pile them all back into the box and shut the
lid and stamp on it.

"That's exquisite!" murmured Mrs. Bell, when Mr. Bell
had righted it again.

"It's one of the worst," said Elfrida briefly. Mr. Bell
looked relieved. "Since that's your own opinion, Elfrida,"
he said, "I don't mind saying that I