fine art oil painting

There was snow on the ground, and she was sitting in a shawl. She hesitated. ¡¡¡¡ "I am not cold, sir: I never sit here long at this time of year." ¡¡¡¡ "But you have a fire in general?" ¡¡¡¡ "No, sir." ¡¡¡¡ "How comes this about? Here must be some mistake. I understood that you had the use of this room by way of making you perfectly comfortable. In your bedchamber I know you _cannot_ have a fire. Here is some great misapprehension which must be rectified. It is highly unfit for you to sit, be it only half an hour a day, without a fire. You are not strong. You are chilly. Your aunt cannot be aware of this." Fanny would rather have been silent
but being obliged to speak, she could not forbear, in justice to the aunt she loved best, from saying something in which the words "my aunt Norris" were distinguishable. ¡¡¡¡ "I understand," cried her uncle, recollecting himself, and not wanting to hear more: "I understand. Your aunt Norris has always been an advocate, and very judiciously, for young people's being brought up without unnecessary indulgences; but there should be moderation in everything. She is also very hardy herself, which of