"He is beginning to study me already," she thought. "But you mustn't think," she continued, "that I am altogether too modest in my request. He, for whom this master-work is intended, would be ready to pay its weight in gold for even the most hasty sketch from your hand. But it appears as if the undertaking had no great charm for you? Tell me frankly; in any case, we will still remain good friends." "Countess," he began, for the first time this evening betraying some confusion, "you are really too good--" "No! You are trying to escape me--now, don't deny it. Perhaps I know the reason which makes you unfavorable to my request. You have delicate duties that you must regard. If your friend should discover that you had shown the same favor to me as to her--I don't know her, but, for all that, it might be possible, and certainly pardonable, for her to be a little jealous! Am I not right? Isn't it that which makes you hesitate?" He was silent for a moment. Then, still in an absent way and as if speaking to himself, he said, quietly: "Jealous? She would certainly have no cause to be." The unfortunate expression had scarcely passed his lips when a hot and cold shudder passed over him, and he suddenly became conscious what a deadly insult he had uttered. He looked at her in alarm; he saw that all the blood had fled from her cheeks, leaving even her lips a deathly white. But immediately, before he could even recover sufficient self-possession to soften the impression of his words, she forced a pleasant laugh, hastily rose from the sofa and stepped up to him with both her hands extended. "Thank you, my friend," she said, in her easiest tone; "you are not particularly gallant, but something better and rarer--you are candid. You are right; unless a woman is able to set the whole female sex wild with envy and jealousy, like your beautiful unknown friend, she is not a worthy subject for your art. I really ought to be old enough to see that myself. But, as I said, you are partly to blame for my having hit on such a foolish idea--the portrait of that beautiful woman had turned my head. But now it is in its right place again, and I thank you for your speedy cure. _Prenez que je n'aie rien dit._ That my tardy wish, which perhaps would have been an impudent one even in earlier days, remains our secret, I expect from your chivalry. So--your hand upon it--and _soyons amis!_ And now, good-night. Though I am in no danger of awakening jealousy, I am not old enough yet to be secure from malicious gossip, and--you have already staid longer than is proper." In the most painful confusion he attempted to stammer out a few palliating words. But she would not listen to them, and, amid all sorts of pretty speeches and jests, almost hustled him by main force out of the door, which she immediately locked behind him.