The Clever Woman of the Family

Her new acquaintance, Mr. Mauleverer, was an example of such prevention,

which weighed much on her mind. He had been perfectly unobtrusive,

but Mrs. Curtis meeting him on the second day of his sketching, had

naturally looked at his drawing, and admired it so much that she brought

her daughters to see it when in course of completion the next day. He

had then asked whether there would be any objection to his making use of

the sketches in the way of remunerative sale. Mrs. Curtis looked rather

taken aback, it hardly agreed with her exclusive notions of privacy, and

he at once apologized with such humility that she was touched, and felt

herself doing him a wrong, whilst Rachel was angry at her scruple, yet

uncomfortably thought of "that landscape painter," then said in her

decided way, "you did not mean to object, mother?"

"Oh, not for a moment, pray don't think of it," returned Mr. Mauleverer,

in haste. "I would not think of the intrusion. It is only that these

poor trifles are steps to one of the few means by which I can still hope

to do even a little for my fellow creatures; the greatest solace that

remains to me."

"My mother did not mean to prevent anything," said Rachel eagerly;

"least of all any means of doing good."

"Indeed, I cannot but be aware that Miss Curtis is the last individual

who would do so, except indeed by the good works she herself absorbs."

"You are too good, sir," returned Mrs. Curtis; "I am sure I did not mean

to object to anything for good. If it is for a charity, I am sure some

of our friends would be very glad to take some sketches of our scenery;

they have been begging me this long time to have it photographed. I

should like to have that drawing myself, it would please your aunt so

much, my dear, if we sent it to her."

Mr. Mauleverer bowed, but Rachel was not sure whether he had not been

insulted.

Next day he left at the door the drawing handsomely mounted, and looking

so grand and meritorious that poor Mrs. Curtis became much troubled in

mind whether its proper price might not be five or even ten guineas,

instead of the one for which she had mentally bargained, or if this

might not be the beginning of a series; "which would be quite another

thing, you know, my dear."

Rachel offered to go and talk to the artist, who was sketching in full

view from the windows, and find out what value he set upon it.

"Perhaps, but I don't know, my dear. Won't it be odd? Had you not better

wait till Grace comes in, or till I can come down with you?"