Wait a minute! the best of it has yet to come. I
am going to exhibit both the pictures in the studio to my friends, and
my friends' friends, as early as Saturday next."
"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Zack. "Why, it's only January now; and
you always used to have your private view of your own pictures, in
April, just before they were sent into the Academy Exhibition."
"Quite right," interposed Valentine, "but I am going to make a change
this year. The fact is, I have got a job to do in the provinces, which
will prevent me from having my picture-show at the usual time. So I
mean to have it now. The cards of invitation are coming home from the
printer's tomorrow morning. I shall reserve a packet, of course, for
you and your friends, when we see you to-morrow night."
Just as Mr. Blyth spoke those words, the clock on the mantel-piece
struck the half hour after ten. Having his own private reasons for
continuing to preserve the appearance of perfect obedience to his
father's domestic regulations, Zack rose at once to say good night,
in order to insure being home before the house-door was bolted at
eleven o'clock. This time he did not forget Madonna's drawing;
but, on the contrary, showed such unusual carefulness in tying his
pocket-handkerchief over the frame to preserve it from injury as he
carried it through the streets, that she could not help--in the
fearless innocence of her heart--unreservedly betraying to him, both by
look and manner, how warmly she appreciated his anxiety for the safe
preservation of her gift.
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