He did not at once see the girl. She was behind Mrs. Cathcart, and that lady's majestic presence absorbed all his attention. Mrs. Cathcart put up her eye-glass. "Is your master in?" she asked. Gerald laughed. "I am my own master," he said. "This is Mr. Leigh, aunt," said Eugenia, coming forward. "Oh!" said Mrs. Cathcart, and the palpable meaning of that exclamatory monosyllable sent the blood to Eugenia's cheek. Gerald started as he heard the girl's voice and recognized her in the shadow. He stretched out his clay-covered hand, then withdrew it and laughed. Mrs. Cathcart, who saw the action, put on a look of supreme astonishment; then she recovered herself. "Oh, I forgot," she said to Eugenia. "Of course, you have seen Mr. Leigh before. May we come in, Mr. Leigh?" He moved aside and the ladies entered the studio. He placed his two chairs at their disposal. He wondered the while what had brought Eugenia to him. He gave her a questioning glance, but her eyes avoided his. Then Mrs. Cathcart began. She spoke in that manner which certain persons assume towards those whom they are pleased to think their inferiors. "I believe, some time ago, you made a bust of my late brother-in-law, Mr. Herbert, of Coombe-Acton." Gerald bowed. "I wish to have a copy of it. Can you make one?" "Certainly. In marble?" "In marble, of course. How much will it cost?" It was a painful experience to Eugenia, to hear her future husband talked to by Mrs. Cathcart much as that lady talked to the obliging young men and women at the various emporiums which enjoyed her patronage. "Mr. Herbert was my best friend," said Gerald. "My services are at your disposal." "You do not understand me," said Mrs. Cathcart, coldly. "I asked you what it would cost." Gerald colored and glanced at Eugenia. He was utterly puzzled. It could only have been through the agency of the girl he loved that this new patroness sought him. "Mr. Leigh was my father's friend, aunt," said Eugenia. "My dear! Mr. Leigh is not _my_ friend. I want to know his terms for a marble bust." "Eighty pounds, madam," said Gerald, rather shortly. "Oh, much too much! Eugenia, do you not think such a price extortionate?" Eugenia was silent, but her cheeks burned. Gerald's lip quivered with anger. Only Mrs. Cathcart was calm. "I will pay you forty pounds," she said, "but then it must be approved by a competent judge." "You have heard my terms, madam," said Leigh curtly. "Absurd! I will even say fifty pounds. If you like to take that you may call upon me. Good-morning. Come, Eugenia!" She swept out of the studio. Eugenia followed her. She looked back and saw Gerald's face wearing an expression of actual pain. For a moment her impulse was to run back, throw her arms round his neck, and defy every one. However, she did not yield to it, but followed her aunt to the carriage. "I call that young man a most common, ill-bred person," said Mrs. Cathcart.