his remarks are so good that when he gets home I may have him read a
paper before our Onwards and Upwards Club."

Cousin Egbert wriggled modestly at this and said: "Shucks!" which I
took to be a term of deprecation.

"You needn't pretend," said Mrs. Effie. "Just let Ruggles here look
over some of the notes you have made," and she handed me a notebook of
ruled paper in which there was a deal of writing. I glanced, as
bidden, at one or two of the paragraphs, and confess that I, too, was
amazed at the fluency and insight displayed along lines in which I
should have thought the man entirely uninformed. "This choice work
represents the first or formative period of the Master," began one
note, "but distinctly foreshadows that later method which made him at
once the hope and despair of his contemporaries. In the 'Portrait of
the Artist by Himself' we have a canvas that well repays patient
study, since here is displayed in its full flower that ruthless
realism, happily attenuated by a superbly subtle delicacy of brush
work----" It was really quite amazing, and I perceived for the first
time that Cousin Egbert must be "a diamond in the rough," as the
well-known saying has it. I felt, indeed, that I would be very pleased
to accompany him on one of his instructive strolls through this
gallery, for I have always been of a studious habit and anxious to
improve myself in the fine arts.

"You see?" asked Mrs. Effie, when I had perused this fragment. "And
yet folks back home would tell you that he's just a----" Cousin Egbert
here coughed alarmingly. "No matter," she continued. "He'll show them
that he's got something in him, mark my words."