ained silent for a long time. Then came a thought which made me
say,

'"You. too, are a painter, Mr. D'Arcy?"

'"Yes," he said.

'"During the months that I have been living here have you used me as
your model?"

'"No; but that was not because I did not wish to do so."

'Then he suddenly looked in my face and said,

'"Is your family entirely Welsh, Miss Wynne?"

'"Entirely," I said. "But why did you not use me as your model, Mr.
D'Arcy?"

'"Poor Wilderspin believed you to be a spiritual body," he said; "I
did not. I knew that you were a young lady in an unconscious
condition. To have painted you in such a condition and without the
possibility of getting your consent would have been sacrilege, even
if I had painted you as a Madonna."

'I could not speak, his words and tone were so tender. He broke the
silence by saying,

'"Miss Wynne, there is one thing in connection with you that puzzles
me very much. You speak of yourself as though you were a kind of
Welsh peasant girl, and yet your conversation--well, I mustn't tell
you what I think of that."

'This made me laugh outright, for ladies who called on Miss Dalrymple
used to make the same remark.

'"Mr. D'Arcy," I said, "you are harbouring the greatest little
impostor in the British Islands. I am the mere mocking-bird of one of
the most cultivated women living. My true note is that of a simple
Welsh bird."

'"A Welsh warbler," he said, with a smile, "but who was the original
of the impostor?"

'"Miss Dalrymple," I said.

'"Miss Dalrymple, the writer!--why I knew her years ago--before you
were born."

'Our talk had been so lively that we had not noticed the passage of
time, nor had we noticed that the clouds had been gathering for a
summer shower. Suddenly the rain fell heavily; although we ran to the
house, we were quite wet by the time we got in.

'We found poor Mrs. Titwing in a great state of excitement on account
of the rain, and also because the dinner had been waiting for nearly
an hour. That scamper in the rain, and the laughing and joking at our
predicament, seemed to bring us closer together than anything else
could have done. Mr. D'Arcy told Mrs. Titwing to take me to my room
to change my dress for dinner, and he seemed quite disappointed when
I told him that I could eat no dinner, and would like to retire to my
room for the night. The fact was that the events of that wonderful
day had exhausted all my powers; every nerve within me seeme