"First of all, I must introduce myself a little more fully than the very obscure name on my card can have done," began the artist, without the slightest trace of embarrassment. (She had begun immediately upon her entrance to study the head, as though at a regular sitting.) "I am a painter; that is the sole excuse I have for my intrusion upon you. I met you a short time ago at the Pinakothek. It can hardly be a novelty to you to have people stop when you go by, or even follow you. But that a person should intrude into your very house does seem a little too much. My honored Fräulein, or should I call you Madame?" (the stranger shook her head slightly) "I do not know whether you, too, have a prejudice against women-artists? If you have, I shall certainly appear to you in a very bad light. And it is true, I must say that this meddling with brushes and colors doesn't particularly become many of my colleagues. Although the nine Muses are women, our sex easily get by association with them an unwomanly touch that is not by any means to their advantage.--Oh, please keep that position just an instant; the three-quarters face is especially effective in this light! Yes, it is true, Fräulein, I myself know women-artists who think it is prosaic to put on a clean collar or darn a stocking. And yet--" "If you would only be kind enough to tell me the motive of your visit--" "I was just coming to that. I had really a double motive. First, to beg your pardon if I drove you away from the gallery by my persistent staring. You see, my dear Fräulein--oh, please bend your head a little--so! If you could only see how capital that is--that _chiar' oscuro_--and what glorious hair you have! I see you think I am fairly crazy, treating you like a model in the first ten minutes! But so much the better; you will know at once what we are coming to. I am really, you must know, not quite responsible for my actions when I see anything that greatly delights me; and however lacking my talents may be in the power to produce anything beautiful from mere imagination, I have attained a real mastery in the discovery, the enjoyment, and admiration of true living beauty. The moment I saw you afar off--no, you must not turn away, dear Fräulein. How can you help it, and what sin is it, if an honest artist-soul--of your own sex, too--expresses its delight in and admiration for your beauty? It seems petty to me, the way that many people keep such a gift of God hidden--or pretend to. There are some little doll-like faces, it is true, whose chief charm lies in the fact that they always seem to be ashamed of their own prettiness. But you, Fräulein--such a classic head--please turn for once fully round toward the light--a pure Palma Vecchio, I tell you--"