The young artist was evidently very closely occupied with the composition of his picture.

He half-closed his eyes, as if he saw the canvas distinctly, and said, "I should represent her just lighting upon the hill, you see, with a rich, moist flush upon her face, a cold splendor just melting into passion, half floating, as she comes, so softly superior, so queenly scornful of all the world but him.

Jove! it would make a splendid picture!" Lawrence Newt looked at his friend as he imagined the condescending Diana.

The artist's face was a little raised as he spoke, as if he saw a stately vision.

It was rapt in the intensity of fancy, and Lawrence knew perfectly well that he saw Hope Wayne's Endymion before him.