The round table of rude black oak was set for a meal, and a young woman was feeding a child in a pinafore who sat in a high-chair.

The sketch might have been a mere piece of domestic prettiness; but the handling of it was so strong and free that it became a significant, typical thing.

It breathed the North, a life rustic and withdrawn--the sweetness of home and motherhood.
'Are you going to make a picture of that ?' said Watson, putting on his spectacles, and peering into it.

'You'd better.' Fenwick replied that he might some day, but had too many things on hand to think of it yet a while.

Then with no explanation and a rather hasty hand he turned the page.