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 was not until supper-time that she was able to gather a clue, when Uncle Si mentioned the matter to William. He was careful to do so, however, in the most casual way.

"By the way, boy," said the old man gravely balancing a piece of cheese on the end of his knife, and fixing June with his eye as he did so; "that daub of yours—I've had Mr. Thornton here to look at it."

"I hope he liked it, sir," said William, with his eager smile.

Uncle Si pursed his mouth. Then he went through the rest of his performance, which on this occasion ended in a noise through closed lips like a hornet's drone, which might have meant anything.

June felt an insane desire to give the old wretch a punch on his long and wicked nose.

"What did he think of the cloud?" asked William. "And the light of the sun striking through on to the water?"

"He says it's very rough and dirty, and in bad condition, but if I could buy it for two pounds he might be able to show me a small profit."

"I should think so," murmured June, holding a glass of water in suspense.

Uncle Si laid down his knife and looked at her.

"You think so, niece," he snarled. "Have the goodness to mind your own affairs, or you and I will quarrel. That's twice to-day I've had to speak to you."

June covered a retreat from the impossible position strong feelings had led her into by emptying her glass in one fierce draught.

"You see, boy," said Uncle Si, turning to William with a confidential air, "this—this picture."—It seemed