leonardo da vinci painting

leonardo da vinci painting before him; he fixed his eyes on me very steadily: his eyes were small
and grey; not very bright, but I daresay I should think them shrewd
now: he had a hard-featured yet good-natured looking face. Having
considered me at leisure, he said-
'What made you ill yesterday?'
'She had a fall,' said Bessie, again putting in her word.
'Fall! why, that is like a baby again! Can't she manage to walk
at her age? She must be eight or nine years old.'
'I was knocked down,' was the blunt explanation, jerked out of me
leonardo da vinci painting
by another pang of mortified pride; 'but that did not make me ill,'
I added; while Mr. Lloyd helped himself to a pinch of snuff.
As he was returning the box to his waistcoat pocket, a loud bell
rang for the servants' dinner; he knew what it was. 'That's for you,
nurse,' said he; 'you can go down; I'll give Miss Jane a lecture
till you come back.'
Bessie would rather have stayed, but she was obliged to go, because
punctuality at meals was rigidly enforced at Gates-head Hall.
'The fall did not make you ill; what did, then?' pursued Mr.
Lloyd when Bessie was gone. leonardo da vinci painting