"Ah, that is my little secret! My enemies pretend that I have scraped a Watteau, others say a Titian, in order to discover the successive layers of color and surprise the method of these masters. And why should I not? All means are justifiable so long as one succeeds in imitating life. Others pretend that I paint on wax. They may say what they please. Hudson, my master, painted exceedingly well on cheese." "On cheese!" exclaimed Miss Woodville with a laugh; "fancy a painting on cheese!" "Exactly so." Thereupon ensued a pause, during which the canvas was heard to crack beneath the pencil, while the old lady's needles clicked where she sat knitting. Evidently ill at ease, Reynolds fretted upon his chair. At last he turned towards the Quakeress and courteously remarked, "The time will hang heavily upon your hands, madam." "I have brought my work, and have no end of patience," she replied. "That may be; but the first sitting is always tedious. Moreover, I need to become intimately acquainted with my model, and since Miss Woodville does not play this evening, I count upon keeping your niece for supper, if you have no objection. I am to have a few friends here, for whom my sister will do the honors as hostess,--Mr. Burke, Dr. Johnson, my charming neighbor, Miss Burney." "The author of 'Evelina'! Oh, I long to meet her!" "So you see, madam, you may spare yourself a tedious wait, and without fear leave Miss Woodville in my care. I shall make it my duty to see that she is returned to you properly escorted." Thus politely dismissed, the old lady regretfully arose, but seemed still to hesitate. "Go, aunt, or you will miss the reunion of 'The Favorites of Jesus Christ,' of whom you are the presiding officer," suggested the younger lady. Whether influenced by this consideration, or whether she found it difficult to resist the desire which the painter had so delicately expressed, the Quakeress retired, escorted even to the threshold by Sir Joshua. "Are you aware," he asked, returning to his model, "of my true purpose in sending this lady away?" "In truth, no." "Because she constrains you; because she casts a shadow upon your youth and gayety; in a word, because she prevents you from being yourself." "Pray, how could you divine that?" "My dear child, I have already deciphered three thousand human visages, and why should I not have learned to read the soul a little? The lady is your aunt?" "Yes,--at least I have been told to call her so." "And your parents?"