She went and seated herself by Madeline, who had on her lap a little portfolio.
"These are the drawings of which I spoke," said Madeline, half opening the portfolio.
"Mr.Marsh's?
Oh, I shall be glad to see them!" "Of course, we ought to have daylight, but we'll look at them again to-morrow.

You can form an idea of their character." They were small water-colours, the work--as each declared in fantastic signature--of one Clifford Marsh, spoken of by the Denyers, and by Madeline in particular, as a personal friend.

He was expected to arrive any day in Naples.

The subjects, Cecily had been informed, were natural scenery; the style, impressionist.

Impressionism was no novel term to Cecily, and in Paris she had had her attention intelligently directed to good work in that kind; she knew, of course, that, like every other style, it must be judged with reference to its success in achieving the end proposed.