78 COUSIN PHILLIS.
tried to draw your head from memory, and failed; but I think I can do it now. If I succeed I will give it to your mother. You would like a portrait of your daughter as Ceres, would you not, ma'am?"
"I should like a picture of her; yes, very much, thank you, Mr. Holdsworth; but if you put that straw in her hair," (he was holding some wheat ears above her passive head, looking at the effect with an artistic eye,) "you'll ruffle her hair. Phillis, my dear, if you're to have your picture taken, go upstairs, and brush your hair smooth."
"Not on any account. I beg your pardon, but I want hair loosely flowing."
He began to draw, looking intently at Phillis; I could see this stare of his discomposed her — her colour came and went, her breath quickened with the consciousness of his regard; at last, when he said, "Please look at me for a minute or two, I want to get in the eyes," she looked up at him, quivered, and suddenly got up and left the room. He did not say a word, but went on with some other part of the drawing ; his silence was unnatural, and his dark cheek blanched a little. Cousin Holman looked up from her work, and put her spectacles down.
"What's the matter? Where is she gone?"
Holdsworth never uttered a word, but went on drawing. I felt obliged to say something; it was stupid enough, but stupidity was better than silence just then.
"I'll go and call her," said I. So I went into the hall, and to the bottom of the stairs; but just as I was going to call Phillis, she came down swiftly with her
