-
A sister’s consolation (1864)
A young woman leans in, her hand resting gently on her sister’s shoulder. The quiet embrace speaks of unspoken sorrow, the kind only shared between those who know each other’s hearts. The folds of their dresses whisper comfort, while the room holds its breath around them.
-
The Two Central Figures in Derby Day (1860)
Two well-dressed men stand at the heart of a swirling crowd—one leans in with eager intensity, the other smirks with detached amusement. Around them, hats tilt, necks crane, and money changes hands. The Derby’s chaos pulses, but these two hold the center, locked in their private contest.
-
The secret
A woman leans close, whispering into another’s ear. The listener’s eyes widen—caught between shock and delight. Rich fabrics drape around them, the air thick with unspoken tension. What words passed between them? The secret lingers, just beyond reach.
-
Fortunes
A young woman leans over a table, her fingers tracing the lines of a fortune-telling book. The room glows with warm lamplight, casting shadows that hint at secrets yet to unfold. Her expression lingers between curiosity and apprehension, as if the pages hold more than she bargained for.
-
Miss Betty Pollock (1911)
A young woman in a flowing blue dress gazes pensively into the distance, her delicate fingers resting lightly on a book. The soft light catches the folds of her gown, hinting at quiet contemplation. There’s an air of mystery in her half-turned pose—what thoughts linger behind those distant eyes?
-
The dead goldfinch (‘All that was left to love’) (1878)
A small goldfinch lies lifeless on a table, its bright feathers dulled. A woman in black bends over it, fingers hovering—not touching, just remembering. The air feels heavy with unspoken grief. Something loved is gone, and all that remains is this quiet, aching moment.
-
The Martyr of the Solway (About 1871)
A woman stands waist-deep in icy water, hands bound, face lifted toward the sky. The tide rises around her, but her gaze stays fixed—not on the coming waves, but something beyond them. The wind whips her hair, the light catches her last breath. Martyrdom wears no fear here.
-
A Study for In the Conservatory; A Critical Moment (1898)
A tense silence hangs between the couple in the greenhouse. His hand hovers near hers, fingers almost touching—hesitation thick as the humid air. Outside, blurred figures pass unseen, their muffled footsteps underscoring the unspoken words trapped beneath glass.
-
Sisterly Advice (1887)
Two sisters sit close, one whispering intently while the other listens with downcast eyes. The folds of their dresses tangle together like secrets shared in hushed tones. A moment suspended—half guidance, half hesitation—where youth leans on experience and neither speaks aloud what both already know.