s
pot-boilers. I could begin to-morrow if only I had my easel and
palette," and his tone was so eager, that Olivia promised to consult
her husband, and, if he approved, to go herself for the necessary
things.

When Marcus came in he told them at once that he had been round to the
Models. "The room will be vacant next Tuesday, Barton," he said,
briskly, "and I have settled with Mrs. Randall that you will take it
for a month. It is a poor place, of course, but in my opinion it is
not so bare as your present diggings, and it is very clean and
comfortable, so you may be sure of board and lodging for a month. You
will have to be careful, you know," he went on, "as long as this
weather lasts. You must not think of moving about the country just yet
or you will be laid up again," and then Olivia chimed in, and after a
little consultation it was arranged that Olivia should go to the
picture-shop at the corner of Harbut Street the next morning.

Robert Barton made a list of things required. He was in such good
spirits all tea-time, and told such amusing stories of his life in
Paris, that even Marcus, tired as he was, was much entertained.

"He is really a well-informed fellow," he observed, when Barton had
retired. "I am not so sure that we shall find him in the way, after
all. He told us that story about the artist's model in quite a racy
fashion. He seems to be up to date in his notions. I am a bit curious
to find out if he can paint or if it is only tall talk, but he
certainly seems bent on it. Now I must turn in, for I am dead beat.
Oh, by-the-bye, Livy, I told Miss Williams that you would go round and
see her to-morrow afternoon. It would really be a charity," as Olivia
seemed very much astonished at this. "The poor girl is so lonely, she
has no brothers and sisters, and as far as I can find out no friends
either."

"No friends, Marcus--and they live in one of those nice houses in
Brunswick Place, and keep a man-servant!"

"Oh, I daresay they have a few acquaintances," returned Dr. Luttrell,
with a yawn. "Most likely it has been impossible for her to have
friends. When I proposed sending you to cheer her up, she looked quite
grateful. Poor soul, you will like her, Olive. She is just your sort;
no nonsense about her, plenty of feeling, but nothing hysterical."

"Marcus," observed Olivia, slipping her hand through his arm, and
speaking very deliberately, "do you not think we had better have those
cards