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be an exquisite possession."

"But I am afraid, Mr. Elton, Harriet will not like to sit.
She thinks so little of her own beauty. Did not you observe her
manner of answering me? How completely it meant, `why should my
picture be drawn?'"

"Oh! yes, I observed it, I assure you. It was not lost on me.
But still I cannot imagine she would not be persuaded."

Harriet was soon back again, and the proposal almost immediately made;
and she had no scruples which could stand many minutes against the earnest
pressing of both the others. Emma wished to go to work directly,
and therefore produced the portfolio containing her various attempts
at portraits, for not one of them had ever been finished, that they
might decide together on the best size for Harriet. Her many
beginnings were displayed. Miniatures, half-lengths, whole-lengths,
pencil, crayon, and water-colours had been all tried in turn.
She had always wanted to do every thing, and had made more progress
both in drawing and music than many might have done with so little
labour as she would ever submit to. She played and sang;--and drew
in almost every style; but steadiness had always been wanting;
and in nothing had she approached the degree of excellence which she
would have been glad to command, and ought not to have failed of.
She was not much deceived as to her own skill either as an artist
or a musician, but she was not unwilling to have others deceived,
or sorry to know her reputation for accomplishment often higher
than it deserved.

There was merit in every drawing--in the least finished, perhaps the most;
her style was spirited; but had there been much less, or had there
been ten times more, the delight and admiration of her two companions
would have been the same. They were both in ecstasies. A likeness
pleases every body; and Miss Woodhouse's performances must be capital.

"No great variety of faces for you," said Emma. "I had only my
own family to study from. There is my father--another of my
father--but the idea of sitting for his picture made him so nervous,
that I could only take him by stealth; neither of them very
like therefore. Mrs. Weston again, and again, and again, you see.
Dear Mrs. Weston! always my kindest friend on every occasion.
She would sit whenever I asked her. There is my sister; and really
quite her own little elegant figure!--and the face not unlike.
I should have made a good likeness of her, if she would have
sat longer, but she was in such a hurry to have me draw her four
children that she would not be quiet. Then, here come all my
attempts at three of those four children;--there they are,
Henry and John and Bella, from one end of the sheet to the other,
and any one of them might do for any one of the rest. She was so
eager to have them drawn that I could not refuse; but there is no
making children of three or four years old stand still you know;
nor can it be very easy to take any likeness of them, beyond the
air and complexion, unless they are coarser featured than any

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