we will choose some pictures, some of the prettiest pictures we can
find; and then we will dress up people to represent all the figures, and
place them just as the figures are grouped in the engraving; and then
they look like a most beautiful large painted picture."

"But pictures do not move?"

"No more do the people. They hold still and do not stir, any more than
if they were not real."

"I should think they would look like people though, and not like a
picture," said Daisy. "No matter how still you were to keep, I should
never fancy you were painted."

"No," said Preston laughing; "but you do not understand. The room where
the spectators are is darkened, and the lights for the picture are all
set on one side, just as the light comes in the picture; and then it all
looks just right. And the picture is seen behind a frame too, of the
folding doors or something."

Daisy sat looking at Preston, a little curious but not at all excited.

"So I shall want your help, Daisy."

"About what?"

"First, to choose what pictures we will have. We must look over all the
books of engravings in the house, and see what would do. Shall we go at
it?"

Daisy consented. They repaired to the library and took position by a
large portfolio of engravings.

"'Fortitude'! Capital!" cried Preston as he turned over the first sheet
in the portfolio. "Capital, Daisy! That's for you. You would make an
excellent 'Fortitude.'"

"I!--" said Daisy.

"Capital--couldn't be better. This is Sir Joshua Reynolds'
'Fortitude'--and you will do for it wonderfully well. You have half the
look of it now. Only you must be a little more stern."

"Why must Fortitude look stern?" said Daisy.

"O, because she has hard work to do, I suppose."

"What is Fortitude, Preston?"

"O Daisy, Daisy! are you going through life like that? Why you'll turn
all your play into work."

"Why?--But what _is_ it?"

"Fortitude? Why it is, let me see,--it is the power of endurance."

"The power of bearing pain, Daisy," said Mr. Randolph, who was walking
through the room.

"I do not think Fortitude ought to look stern."

"The old gentleman thought so. I suppose he knew. You must,
anyhow,--like the picture."

"But Preston, how could I look like that? My dresses are not made so."

"I hope not!" said Preston laughing. "But Daisy, we'll get some of aunt
Felicia's riggings and feathers and set you out in style."

"But you can't put feathers on my head like those," s