THE BAY OF NAPLES
prise and admiration broke from him. For it was not the Bay of Naples she was painting—it was Fen. Into the quick sketch she had managed to get more than a suggestion of his wistful charm. She had happily caught, somehow, the look of the eager, sensitive little face, and a hint of the spirit behind it. Now, as she glanced for a moment at Thornton, he was almost startled to see how very much her eyes were like Fen's.
"Is it good?" asked the child; "does it look like it?"
"Very good!" said Siddereticus, "very much like it indeed. I congratulate you, Signorina illustrissima!"
Their eyes met for a second, and she turned away, laughing.
"It is a very difficult subject," she said.
Siddereticus bowed over her hand, kissed Fen, and disappeared as suddenly as he had come.
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