But Valentine's pupil was used to be criticized as well as praised; and
her head was in no danger of being turned by Zack's admiration of her
drawing. Looking up at him with a sly expression of incredulity, she
signed these words in reply:--"I am afraid it ought to be a much better
drawing than it is. Do you really like it?" Zack rejoined impetuously
by a fresh torrent of superlatives. She watched his face, for a moment,
rather anxiously and inquiringly, then bent down quickly over her
drawing. He walked back to Valentine. Her eyes followed him--then
returned once more to the paper before her. The color began to rise
again in her cheek; a thoughtful expression stole calmly over her
clear, happy eyes; she played nervously with the port-crayon that held
her black and white chalk; looked attentively at the drawing; and,
smiling very prettily at some fancy of her own, proceeded assiduously
with her employment, altering and amending, as she went on, with more
than usual industry and care.
What was Madonna thinking of? If she had been willing, and able, to
utter her thoughts, she might have expressed them thus: "I wonder
whether he likes my drawing? Shall I try hard if I can't make it better
worth pleasing him? I will! it shall be the best thing I have ever
done.
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