recious to others," said
Gouache, gallantly. Madame d'Aranjuez sank into the carved chair Orsino
had occupied.

"This dear Gouache--he is charming, is he not?" she said with a little
laugh. Orsino looked at her.

"Gouache is right," he thought, with the assurance of his years. "It
would be amusing to fall in love with her."

CHAPTER III.

Gouache was far more interested in his work than in the opinions which
his two visitors might entertain of each other. He looked at the lady
fixedly, moved his easel, raised the picture a few inches higher from
the ground and looked again. Orsino watched the proceedings from a
little distance, debating whether he should go away or remain. Much
depended upon Madame d'Aragona's character, he thought, and of this he
knew nothing. Some women are attracted by indifference, and to go away
would be to show a disinclination to press the acquaintance. Others, he
reflected, prefer the assurance of the man who always stays, even
without an invitation, rather than lose his chance. On the other hand a
sitting in a studio is not exactly like a meeting in a drawing-room. The
painter has a sort of traditional, exclusive right to his sitter's sole
attention. The sitter, too, if a woman, enjoys the privilege of
sacrificing one-half her good looks in a bad light, to favour the other
side which is presented to the artist's view, and the third person, if
there be one, has a provoking habit of so placing himself as to receive
the least flattering impression. Hence the great unpopularity of the
third person--or "the third inconvenience," as the Romans call him.

Orsino stood still for a few moments, wondering whether either of the
two would ask him to sit down. As they did not, he was annoyed with them
and determined to stay, if only for five minutes. He took up his
position, in a deep seat under the high window, and watched Madame
d'Aragona's profile. Neither she nor Gouache made any remark. Gouache
began to brush over the face of his picture. Orsino felt that the
silence was becoming awkward. He began to regret that he had remained,
for he discovered from his present position that the lady's nose was
indeed her defective feature.

"You do not mind my staying a few minutes?" he said, with a vague
interrogation.

"Ask Madame, rather," answered Gouache, brushing away in a lively
manner. Madame said nothing, and seemed not to have heard.

"Am I indiscreet?" asked Orsino.

"How? No. Why shou