"It is done by the great artist, Herbert Smith," she answered, laughing.

Raymond looked at it with eager delight; and at this moment Lilian's father entered the room.

"Chatterbox, I hope you are not tiring Raymond;" and he looked kindly and inquiringly at the invalid.

"Not the least, sir; I was thinking that you are fortunate to possess so many of the paintings of Herbert Smith. How beautiful they are!" and the young artist's eye kindled with enthusiasm.

His new friend smiled.

"I am very fond of painting, Raymond."

"You must be, sir, from the way you have talked to me about it, and from your having such beautiful pictures. Do you paint yourself?"

"Why, Raymond," said Lilian, "don't you know--;" but a warning look from her father stopped her saying anything more. She only looked over at Madge, with her large blue eyes full of laughter.

Then her father bent down over the boy, and said, "I paint a great deal, Raymond."

"Oh, I am so glad!" said Raymond eagerly. "Then you will not think it wrong of me to want to be an artist."

"So far from thinking it wrong, Raymond, I am going to help you in it. I am going to get you taught."

A bright flush came over Raymond's face as he looked up for an explanation.

"Who will teach me, sir?"

"Mr. Herbert Smith."

Raymond started up. "Do you know him, sir? Do you know Mr. Smith, the greatest artist that is living? Is he a relation of yours?"

"Raymond, I am Herbert Smith," said his friend kindly.

A look of wondering doubt pa.s.sed over the boy's face, which quickly changed to one of intense veneration, almost of reverence, at feeling himself in the presence of this master mind. Then, as the thought of all his friend's former kindness came over him, and of this great privilege before him, he covered his face with his hands; and the tears, which he vainly tried to conceal, fell through his thin fingers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SURPRISE.]

Madge bent down over him. "Raymond, dear Raymond, look up. Do not be sad now, it is all joy."

"I am so glad, I cannot help it, Madge," said Raymond. "All my brightest dreams coming true. I shall be an artist yet."

Mr. Smith turned away his head, his heart deeply moved by the boy's delight; but Lilian could not restrain her gladness.

"And did you not know that papa was the great Herbert Smith?" she asked.

"What fun! Did you know, Madge?"

"Yes," said Madge, looking shyly into Raymond's face.

"O Madge, how _could_ you let me go on talking to Mr. Smith about my poor little paintings without telling me."

"He told me not to tell you," she said.

"Yes," said Mr. Smith; "I wanted, Raymond, to watch you for a little while, before you knew who I was. I wanted to see if your whole heart was really devoted to painting, and that you were likely to rise in your profession, before I offered you a.s.sistance. I am satisfied; and now shake hands: if you are willing to endure a life of labour, I think I can promise you success."

"I am willing for anything," said Raymond. And to Madge he whispered, "You shall glory in me some day, little sister."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER VII.

THE SUCCESS.

And the day came, after years of patient labour.

The morning sun shone in brightly upon a room, in one of those pleasant villas which abound in the suburbs of London. A party were a.s.sembled at breakfast--an old, infirm man, and his son and daughter. The old man was Mr. Leicester, and the other two were Raymond and Madge. Their father had come back to them, broken down in health and spirits. Raymond met him accidentally in the streets of London, and brought him to the little home where he and Madge lived, and they had cared for him tenderly ever since.

We last saw Raymond and Madge almost as children; we find them now grown up. Raymond's character has deepened. He is a great artist, and a great man also--for, added to the depth and strength of mind which the mastery of one subject gives, there were many n.o.ble traits in him--and many men now feel themselves privileged if they call Raymond Leicester their friend.

Madge has the same character, and nearly the same face, as she had when a child. She is still Raymond's fireside genius, and a dutiful, tender daughter to her father.

But we were speaking of that sunshiny morning when they were at breakfast. A newspaper lay by Raymond's side, and when he had sipped his coffee he unfolded it. "The Academy is open, Madge," he said quickly; then ran his eye down the long columns.

Madge looked up eagerly, and saw the deepening colour in his cheek as he read. She took up the paper as he laid it down, quickly found the place, and her heart bounded as she read:--

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE NOTICE IN THE NEWSPAPER.]

"But, without doubt, the picture which attracts most notice is the one which Mr. Raymond Leicester exhibits. We feel, as we study it, that we are gazing on the work of a great man, and a deservedly famous artist. He has not belied the early promise of his youth; and that man must have but little taste and good feeling who can move away, after the contemplation of this masterpiece, without feeling that he is the better for having seen it," &c.

The tears blinded Madge, so that she could read no more. But what more was there for her to read? The wish of her life was fulfilled. Raymond was a great artist--the world proclaimed him so--and he was her brother, her pride, and her glory.

"Little Madge," and Raymond's hand rested with its caressing touch upon her head, "I feel that I owe it all to you."

"No, no," she answered, laying her hand upon his. "No, not to me--to Mr.

Smith."

"n.o.ble-hearted man!" said Raymond warmly; and then his voice sunk so low that only Madge could hear it. "I will go and ask for Lilian to-day."

"G.o.d speed you!" said Madge, smiling through her tears; "and papa and I will go and look at your picture in the Academy."

Anybody who had been in the Royal Academy that morning would have seen a feeble old man leaning on the arm of his daughter, lingering near the picture round which every one thronged. Madge was feasting on their praise of it, and repeating chosen bits to her father, who was very proud of his son now. It was a happy day to Madge, as she looked at the picture, and felt that Raymond was worthy of the praise that was bestowed upon it. She thanked G.o.d in her heart that he had spared Raymond's life, and allowed her to see this day.

[Ill.u.s.tration: IN THE ROYAL ACADEMY.]

Raymond gained Lilian for his wife, but he is "Madge's glory" still.

[Ill.u.s.tration]