“Yes, sir.”

“He is quite a bold, audacious young fellow, and you are a very disrespectful, imprudent, disobedient young ward, to enter into such an arrangement without my consent and permission.  Suppose I forbid all communication?”

“I think, sir, you would scarcely be so unreasonable and unjust; and if you were, I should not obey you.  I would appeal to my mother.  Mr. Hargrove, dear good Mr. Hargrove, was my guardian when Mr. Lindsay went away, and he did not object to the promise I made concerning a correspondence.”

The starry sparkle which during the last twelve months he had learned meant the signal of mutiny flashed up in her eyes.

“Take care! when iron gloves are recklessly thrown down, serious mischief sometimes ensues.  My laws are rarely Draconian, until reason has been exhausted; but nature endowed me with a miserly share of patience, and I do not think it entirely politic in you to challenge me.  Here is a document that has an intensely Hindustanee appearance, and is, as you see, at my mercy.  Where it has been since it left Calcutta last June, I know not.  That Padre Sahib penned it, I indulge no doubt.  Pray sit still.  So the sunshine has come to your countenance at last, and all the way from India!  Verily, happiness is the best cosmetic, and hope the brightest illuminator; even more successful than Bengal lights.”

He held up a letter post-marked Calcutta, and coldly watched the glow that overspread her face, as her gaze eagerly followed the motion of his hand.

“I have not touched the seal; but as your guardian, It is proper that I should be made acquainted with the contents.  When you have devoured it, I presume you will yield to the promptings of respect due to my position and wishes.  When I assume guardianship of any person or thing, I invariably exert all the authority, exact all the obedience, and claim all the privileges and perquisites to which the responsibility entitles me.”

He placed the letter on the cushion, where Hero nestled, and turning to the artist, added: 

“I leave Miss Orme in your care, Mr. Harcourt, and shall send Mr. Roscoe to remain during the sitting, and take her home.  Paint her just as she is now.  Good-morning.”

CHAPTER XVII.

Through the creamy lace curtains that draped the open windows, the afternoon sun shone into the library, making warm lanes of yellow light across the rich mosaic of many coloured woods that formed the polished floor.  Upon one of the round tables was a silver salver, whereon stood a wine-cooler of the same material, representing Bacchus crushing ripe clusters into the receptacles, that now contained a bottle of Ruedesheim, and a crystal claret jug.  In tempting proximity rose a Sevres epergne of green and gold, whose weight was upborne by a lovely figure, evidently modelled in imitation of Titian’s Lavinia; and the crowning basket was heaped with purple and amber grapes, crimson-cheeked luscious peaches, and golden pears sun-flushed into carmine flecks.