"I say, Blyth," cried her ladyship (she never prefixed the word
"Mister" to the names of any of her male friends)--"I say, Blyth, I
can't for the life of me understand your picture of Columbus. You
talked some time ago about explaining it in detail. When are you going
to begin?"
"Directly, my dear madam, directly: I was only waiting till the room
got well filled," answered Valentine, taking up the long wand which he
used to steady his hand while he was painting, and producing the
manuscript tied round with blue ribbon. "The fact is--I don't know
whether you mind it?--I have just thrown together a few thoughts on
art, as a sort of introduction to--to Columbus, in short. They are
written down on this paper--the thoughts are. Would anybody be kind
enough to read them, while I point out what they mean on the picture? I
only ask, because it seems egotistical to be reading my opinions about
my own works.--_Will_ anybody be kind enough?" repeated Mr. Blyth,
walking all along the semicircle of chairs, and politely offering his
manuscript to anybody who would take it.
Not a hand was held out. Bashfulness is frequently infectious; and it
proved to be so on this particular occasion.
"Nonsense, Blyth!" exclaimed Lady Brambledown.
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