y at the
portrait of Valerie West, her furs trailing from one shoulder to the
chair.

"My eye and Betty Martin!" cried Cameron, "I'll take it all back, girls!
It's a real studio after all--and this is the real thing! Louis, do you
think she's seen the Aquarium? I'm disengaged after three o'clock--"

He began to kiss his hand rapidly in the direction of the portrait, and
then, fondly embracing his own walking stick, he took a few jaunty steps
in circles, singing "Waltz me around again, Willy."

Lily Collis said: "If your model is as lovely as her portrait, Louis,
she is a real beauty. Who is she?"

"A professional model." He could scarcely contain his impatience with
his sister, with Cameron's fat humour, with Stephanie's quiet and
intent scrutiny--as though, somehow, he had suddenly exposed Valerie
herself to the cool and cynically detached curiosity of a world which
she knew must always remain unfriendly to her.

He was perfectly aware that his sister had guessed whose portrait
confronted them; he supposed, too, that Stephanie probably suspected.
And the knowledge irritated him more than the clownishness of Cameron.

"It is a splendid piece of painting," said Stephanie cordially, and
turned quietly to a portfolio of drawings at her elbow. She had let her
fleeting glance rest on Neville for a second; had divined in a flash
that he was enduring and not courting their examination of this picture;
that, somehow, her accidental discovery of it had displeased him--was
even paining him.

"Sandy," she said cheerfully, "come here and help me look over these
sketches."

"Any peaches among 'em?"

"Bushels."

Cameron came with alacrity; Neville waited until Lily reluctantly
resumed her seat; then he pushed back the easel, turned Valerie's
portrait to the wall, and quietly resumed his painting.

Art in any form was powerless to retain Cameron's attention for very
many consecutive minutes at a time; he grew restless, fussed about with
portfolios for a little while longer, enlivening the tedium with
characteristic observations.

"Well, I've got business down town," he exclaimed, with great pretence
of regret. "Come on, Stephanie; we'll go to the Exchange and start
something. Shall we? Oh, anything--from a panic to a bull-market! I
don't care; go as far as you like. You may wreck a few railroads if you
want to. Only I've _got_ to go.... Awfully good of you to let
me--er--see all these--er--interesting and er--m-m-m--th