The Argosy — page 369: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Sabrina. 207 “This 1s Cousin Miles,” said Margery, by way of introduction ; and my heart sank. They have a bad habit in that family of alluding to unknown persons as if others knew all about them ; so ] had been picturing to myself a relative—rich, elderly, and rotund—who took a fatherly interest in Sabrina. The reality was a man of not more than seven-and-twenty, light-haired, yet with glowing black eyes, that seemed to penetrate the thoughts of the person they looked at. He was clean shaven, except for a heavy moustache; there was a faint tinge of Bohe- mianism about him, though he was quietly dressed in grey, like any other gentleman. He was an artist, and perhaps that accounted for it. Shrubton has some fine scenery in its neighbourhood, and our young artist had come to feed his growing fame by closer communion with nature. He had taken lodgings in the town, so he was free to come and go as he liked. He did not talk much at first, nor did we. The stillness was grow- ing dreamy, when Miles spoke. “Well, Sabrina, will you sit to me?” He was evidently repeating a former request. She looked towards Margery, who frowned. “T will see what John says ” (John had gone out), “ but I thought you came to paint from nature.” “Just so; and here I find the best piece of nature for my pur- pose.” He was too much in earnest to mean a compliment. “You would not mind, Sabrina?” and he turned to her witha smile. “Of course you may paint her, Miles, after all your kindness—only there are the dear children’s lessons.” He blushed and looked annoyed as he rose to go, but only remarked: ‘‘ Then, Sabrina, we shall begin to-morrow morning, if that will suit you.” “Qh yes, Miles,” she replied eagerly. “That’s a dear girl,” he said heartily. ‘ John is sure to say yes.” And bidding us good-night, he went, meditating on his picture without a thought as to the personality of his model, to my great relief. Per- haps it was selfish, but I did so want Sabrina. IT, MILEs came and went. He had been allowed the use of a large garret, and thither, when the spiders, who had lived in that gloomy domain till they thought it their own, had been expelled, he brought his easel and improvised a platform for his model. The windows were arranged for the light, and near one of them I sat and made pre- tence to work ; not that they needed looking after, but I liked to watch the picture and Sabrina. The subject was Dante Rossetti’s ‘ Blessed Damosel.” CORnICclooo SS (GO) mn i)