sisted in looking grave.

"It seems to be an unpleasant subject, Prince."

"Very unpleasant, Madame," answered Orsino shortly.

Thereupon Madame d'Aragona looked at Gouache and raised her brows a
little as though to ask a question, knowing perfectly well that Orsino
was watching her. The young man could not see the painter's eyes, and
the latter did not betray by any gesture that he was answering the
silent interrogation.

"Then I have eyes like a tiger, you say. You frighten me. How
disagreeable--to look like a wild beast!"

"It is a prejudice," returned Orsino. "One hears people say of a woman
that she is beautiful as a tigress."

"An idea!" exclaimed Gouache, interrupting. "Shall I change the damask
cloak to a tiger's skin? One claw just hanging over the white
shoulder--Omphale, you know--in a modern drawing-room--a small cast of
the Farnese Hercules upon a bracket, there, on the right. Decidedly,
here is an idea. Do you permit, Madame!"

"Anything you like--only do not spoil the likeness," answered Madame
d'Aragona, leaning back in her chair, and looking sleepily at Orsino
from beneath her heavy, half-closed lids.

"You will spoil the whole picture," said Orsino, rather anxiously.

Gouache laughed.

"What harm if I do? I can restore it in five minutes--"

"Five minutes!"

"An hour, if you insist upon accuracy of statement," replied Gouache
with a shade of annoyance.

He had an idea, and like most people whom fate occasionally favours with
that rare commodity he did not like to be disturbed in the realisation
of it. He was already squeezing out quantities of tawny colours upon his
palette.

"I am a passive instrument," said Madame d'Aragona. "He does what he
pleases. These men of genius--what would you have? Yesterday a gown from
Worth--to-day a tiger's skin--indeed, I tremble for to-morrow."

She laughed a little and turned her head away.

"You need not fear," answered Gouache, daubing in his new idea with an
enormous brush. "Fashions change. Woman endures. Beauty is eternal.
There is nothing which may not be made becoming to a beautiful woman."

"My dear Gouache, you are insufferable. You are always telling me that I
am beautiful. Look at my nose."

"Yes. I am looking at it."

"And my mouth."

"I look. I see. I admire. Have you any other personal observations to
make? How many claws has a tiger, Don Orsino? Quick! I am painting the
thing."

"One less than a woman."

Madame d'Aragona lo