'You've done it!'
'To be sure! You know it?'
'It is Achilles on the rampart, shouting at the Trojans! O Edgar--how
brave he looks--how his hair flies! Some day you will get him in his
god-like beauty!'
'Do you think he has not got any of it, Cherry?' said Edgar, gazing
wistfully. 'I did see it all, but it didn't come out--and now--'
'I see what you mean,' said Cherry, screwing up her eyes; 'it is in
him to be glorious--a kind of lightning look.'
'Yes, yes; that's what I meant. All majesty and wrath, but no strain.
O Cherry--to have such things in my head, and not get them out! Don't
you know what it is?' as he rolled and flung himself about.
'Oh, yes!' said Cherry from her heart. 'Oh! I should so like to do
one touch to his face, but he's so big! You did him on a chair, and I
could not stand on one.'
'I'll lift you up. I'll hold you,' cried Edgar.
The passion for drawing must have been very strong in the two
children; for Geraldine was most perilously, and not without pain,
raised to a chair, where, with Edgar's arms round her waist, she
actually worked for ten minutes at Achilles' face, but his arm she
declined. 'It is not right, Eddy! look--that muscle in his elbow can
never be so!'
'I can't see the back of mine, but you can,' said Edgar, lifting her
down, and proceeding to take off his coat and roll up his shirt-
sleeve.
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