like the dawning of a smile played round his lips.
"Well, well, Patty, what a little trouble-the-house you are! What is your particular whim now, my dear? You know this is my busiest hour. I have got the dawning of a great conception, Patience, and I am jotting down my first rough ideas."
"Yes, father; I am sure it will be something lovely. Here, I will sit at your feet—that will be quite cosy. Now, won't you tell me about it?"
"No, my dear; no. To speak of an unformed idea takes the bloom off it."
Here Mr. Beaufort's hand stroked his young daughters brown head indulgently.
"This will be a great work, Patience," he continued; "this new idea must succeed."
"Of course it must, father."
"Your sisters don't believe in me, Patty; but you and Elisabeth do."
"Oh, yes; and we admire your writing so
