garb of a man superior to bis surroundings. The artist was Blight, pale, rather feminine of feature; he had delicate hands, which he managed to display to advantage; his auburn hair was not long behind, as might have been expected, but rolled in a magnificent mass upon his brows, ambrosial, soul-shadowing. Many were the affectations whereby his countenance rendered itself unceasingly interesting. At times lie wrinkled his forehead down the middle, and then smiled at vacancy—a humorous sadness; or his eyes became very wide as he regarded, yet appeared not to see, some particular person; or his lips drew themselves in, a symbol of meaning reticence. All this, moreover, not in such degrees as to make him patently ridiculous; by no means. Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw might exchange frequent glances, and have a difficulty in preserving decorum; but then these were children of nature, and would doubtless have indulged in profane laughter at sight of an early portrait of Allied Tennyson. Mrs. Lessingham smiled,
