I am used to admiration now, certainly; it is my food; without it I should die of inanition; but do you suppose I care any more for those who give it to me than a Chinese idol does for—­whoever swings incense before it?  Are you devoted to your butcher and milkman?  We desire only the unpossessed or unattainable, “something afar from the sphere of our sorrow.”  But, though unconsciously, I may have been piqued by this manner of his.  It was new; not a word, not a glance; I believed it was carelessness, and resolved—­merely for the sake of conquering, I fancied, too—­to change all that.  By-and-by the beads dropped out of the curl, as if they had been possessed of mischief and had held there of themselves.  He caught them.

“Here, Circe,” he said.

That was the time I was so angry; for, at the second, he meant all it comprehended.  He saw, I suppose, for he added at once,—­

“Or what was the name of the Witch of Atlas,

  ’The magic circle of whose voice and eyes
  All savage natures did imparadise?’”

I wonder what made me think him mocking me.  Frequently since then he has called me by that name.

“I don’t know much about geography,” I said.  “Besides, these didn’t come from there.  Little Asian—­the imp of my name, you remember—­owned them.”

“Ah?” with the utmost apathy; and turning to my father, “I saw the painting that enslaved you, Sir,” he said.

“Yes, yes,” said papa, gleefully.  “And then why didn’t you make me a copy?”

“Why?” Here he glanced round the room, as if he weren’t thinking at all of the matter in hand.  “The coloring is more than one can describe, though faded.  But I don’t think you would like it so much now.  Moreover, Sir, I cannot make copies.”

I stepped towards them, quite forgetful of my pride.  “Can’t?” I exclaimed.  “Oh, how splendid!  Because then no other man comes between you and Nature; your ideal hangs before you, and special glimpses open and shut on you, glimpses which copyists never obtain.”

“I don’t think you are right,” he said, coldly, his hands loosely crossed behind him, leaning on the corner of the mantel, and looking unconcernedly out of the window.

Wasn’t it provoking?  I remembered myself,—­and remembered, too, that I never had made a real exertion to procure anything, and it wasn’t worth while to begin then, beside not being my forte; things must come to me.  Just then Lu reentered, and one of the servants brought a tray, and we had lunch.  Then our visitor rose to go.

“No, no,” said papa.  “Stay the day out with the girls.  It’s Mayday, and there are to be fireworks on the other bank to-night.”

“Fireworks for Mayday?”

“Yes, to be sure.  Wait and see.”

“It would be so pleasant!” pleaded Lu.

“And a band, I forgot to mention.  I have an engagement myself, so you’ll excuse me; but the girls will do the honors, and I shall meet you at dinner.”