urned to me again in
this easy manner."

"Undoubtedly you have been deceitful," replied Antonia, "and your
conscience must feel ruffled. I can stand most things, but a ruffled
conscience, I confess, is too much for me. I suppose you will soothe it
in the only possible way?"

"What do you mean?" asked Annie.

"Confession is good for the soul," replied Antonia, in a sing-song
voice. She went to the window as she spoke and looked out into the
sunlit street.

The two girls were standing in the room which Antonia was pleased to
call her studio. It was an attic at the top of the house, and had a
dormer window with a north light. The dormer window had sides which were
curtained with green. In Annie's opinion this room was simply hideous.
Huge canvasses covered with great daubs of colour occupied the walls. A
skeleton stood in one corner, and one or two draped figures were in
others. Antonia had lured Annie up here for the purpose of taking her
likeness in a white kerchief. Antonia was fired with an idea that Annie
would look well as Marie Antoinette on her way to execution. She was not
quite sure whether to make her Charlotte Corday or Marie Antoinette;
but, on reflection, decided that the latter character would suit her
best, as she did not think that Annie could ever get sufficient tragedy
into her eyes for the former.

"I am going to paint myself some day for Charlotte," exclaimed Antonia.
"I'll study before the glass whenever I've an odd moment, and I believe
I shall do the fixity of purpose stare after another week of hard
practice. Now, do stand still Annie--the bother of the ring is at an
end, so you can forget it. Just turn your head a little to the left, I
want to get a peep at your ear--you have got a good ear, quite
shell-like. Now, for mercy's sake look tragical! Think of the
guillotine, and the crowd looking on, and La Belle France and the
Tuileries, and the horrid feeling when your head is separated from your
trunk. Now, then, realise it--get it into your eyes. Are you realising
it?"

"Frankly, I'm not," replied Annie. "I can't sit for Marie Antoinette any
longer to-day. I really can't, Antonia. This room is so stiflingly hot,
and I want to go out. I want to get into one of the parks. Are there any
near this?"

"Oh, yes! Hyde Park is quite close; but you'll find it as dry as chips.
Remember, it is September now. Hyde Park is not pretty in September."

"I wonder anyone can live in London," replied Annie