I want you for Esther and
nobody else. What is the objection?"
"I would rather not," said Daisy. "I don't know Hamilton Rush
much."
This was said with extreme demureness, and Preston bit his
lips almost till the blood came to prevent the smile which
would have startled Daisy.
"You won't know him at all when he is dressed and with his
crown on. It's all a play. You can imagine he is the real old
Persian king, who looked so fiercely on the beautiful Jewess
when she ventured unsummoned into his presence."
"I could not stand like that," said Daisy.
"Yes, you could. That's easy. You are fainting in the arms of
your attendants."
"Who will the attendants be?"
"I don't know. Who do you think?"
"I think I would rather not be in this picture, —" said Daisy.
"Yes, you will. I want you. It is too good to be given to
somebody else. It is one of the prettiest pictures we shall
have, I reckon."
"Then you must be the king."
"Well — we will see," said Preston. "What comes next? 'Canute
and his courtiers.' That won't do, because we could not have
the sea in."
"Nor the horse," said Daisy.
"Not very well. — What a stupid collection of portraits!
Nothing but portraits.
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