It is too much like charity! I have
made up my mind that if this is to go on, I will go away and earn my
own living! There, Mr. Pengarth!"
"Rubbish!" he exclaimed briskly. "What at?"
"Painting!" she declared triumphantly. "I have had this in my mind for
some time, and I have been trying to see what I can do best. I have
quite decided, now, to be an artist."
"Pictures," he declared sententiously, "don't sell!"
"Mine do," she answered, smiling. "I have had a check for three
guineas from a shop in London for a little sea piece I did in two
afternoons!"
He regarded her admiringly.
"You are a wonderful child!" he exclaimed.
"I am not a child at all," she interrupted warmly, "and you can just
sit down and write to your silly client and tell him so."
"I will certainly write to him," he affirmed. "I will do so today. You
will not do anything rash until I have had time to get a reply?"
"No!" she answered graciously. "I will wait for a week. After
that--well, I might do anything!"
"You wouldn't leave Tredowen, Miss Juliet!" he protested.
"It would break my heart, of course," she declared, "but I would do it
and trust to time to heal it up again. Tredowen seems like home to me,
but it isn't really, you know. Some day, Sir Wingrave Seton may want
to come back and live there himself. Are you quite certain, Mr.
Pengarth, that he won't be angry to hear that we have been living at
the house all this time?"
"Certain," Mr.
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