"Oh! I don't know," said Susan, who had seen the blush.
Mrs. Bell had seen the blush also, and pursed her mouth up, and
looked grave. Had there been no stammering and no blush, she might
have thought nothing of it.
Aaron saw at once that his little gift was not to go down smoothly.
He was, however, in for it now, so he picked it out from among the
other papers in the case and brought it over to Susan. He
endeavoured to hand it to her with an air of indifference, but I
cannot say that he succeeded.
It was a very pretty, well-finished, water-coloured drawing,
representing still the same bridge, but with more adjuncts. In
Susan's eyes it was a work of high art. Of pictures probably she
had seen but little, and her liking for the artist no doubt added to
her admiration. But the more she admired it and wished for it, the
stronger was her feeling that she ought not to take it.
Poor Susan! she stood for a minute looking at the drawing, but she
said nothing; not even a word of praise. She felt that she was red
in the face, and uncourteous to their lodger; but her mother was
looking at her and she did not know how to behave herself.
Mrs. Bell put out her hand for the sketch, trying to bethink herself
as she did so in what least uncivil way she could refuse the
present.
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