Stephen flung himself down again contentedly in the grasses at her feet , pillowing his chin in his palms and looking up at her , adoringly . `` You are so beautiful , dear lady . I love to look at you . Will you tilt that hat a little more over the left eye-brow ? Yes -- so -- some day I shall paint you . '' His tone and manner were all simplicity . `` When you are a great artist , '' said Beatrice , indulgently . He nodded . `` Yes , I mean to be that . I 've told you all my dreams , you know . Now for my news . I 'm going away to-morrow . I had a telegram from father to-day . '' He drew the message from his pocket and flourished it up at her . `` I 'm to join him in Europe at once . He is in Rome . Think of it -- in Rome ! I 'm to go on with my art studies there . And I leave to-morrow . '' `` I 'm glad -- and I 'm sorry -- and you know which is which , '' said Beatrice , patting the shaggy brown head .
`` I shall miss you dreadfully , XXXXX . ''
Beatrice Europe Rome Stephen artist day eye-brow grasses head pocket