nose with a little ripple in it, and hair falling backward; but there was a mouth and chin of a more prominent, threatening aspect than belonged to the type of the grandmother's miniature. Young Ladislaw did not feel it necessary to smile, as if he were charmed with this introduction to his future second cousin and her relatives; but wore rather a pouting air of discontent.
"You are an artist, I see," said Mr Brooke, taking up the sketch-book and turning it over in his unceremonious fashion.
"No, I only sketch a little. There is nothing fit to be seen there," said young Ladislaw, colouring, perhaps with temper rather than modesty.
"Oh, come, this is a nice bit, now. I did a little in this way myself at one time, you know. Look here, now; this is what I call a nice thing, done with what we used to call brio." Mr Brooke held out towards the two girls a large coloured sketch of stony ground and trees, with a pool.
"I am no judge of these things," said Dorothea, not coldly, but with an eager deprecation of the appeal to her. "You know, uncle, I never see the beauty of those pictures which you say are so much praised. They are a language I do not understand. I suppose there is some relation between pictures and nature which I am too ignor-
