"I only began to think he must be very ill; I hope there is not much the matter with him." "I can't say.

I am afraid there is organic disease, but I think it may be kept quiet a good while yet, and he may have a pleasant life for some time to come, arranging his prints, and petting his pretty daughter.

He has plenty to fall back upon." "Do you go there again ?" "Yes, next week.

I am glad of it.

I shall like to have another look at that little Madonna of his--it is the sort of picture that does one good to carry away in one's eye.