"Yes, but I shan't be able to let you know long beforehand." "I'll get the canvas ready at once. Come to-morrow." "Can't. I'll let you know when. What shall I wear?" "Any white frock." "I'll remember. Good-bye." This arrangement had been entered into over a week ago, and as yet no word had come from Maudie. Nevertheless Pallister was working away with renewed ardour, living in a state of eager expectation. Of course, the little idea had to be confided to Geoff, since he had so unexpectedly reappeared upon the scene. Strangely enough, it did not appeal to him in the light of an unquestionably brilliant notion preordained to success. He was inclined to advise decidedly against it, but finding that his opinion, although formally asked, was in reality not wanted in the least, he raised no actual objection to the carrying out of the plan. "But, Geoff," persisted the somewhat crushed Pallister, "surely it is an awfully fine idea, so enterprising and original. Don't you think so really?" "I've told you I fancy it's quite as likely to vex Mr. Meridith as to please him; but of course I may be mistaken. Who can tell what will melt a stern father's stony heart? You know him much better than I do, anyway." "Well, it's awfully good of you, old chap, not to mind. I hope it won't interfere with your work too much. You know, I rather feel I ought to clear out at once, now you've come back." "Not a bit of it. Stop at least until Miss Meridith's portrait is done. You couldn't ask her to go to any strange studio, you know. It's quite different here, where her father knows the whole lot of us." So much for Frank's enterprise. Jack Hardy also was working with increased ardour, with renewed interest and hope. On the afternoon of the very day of his return from Venice, Geoff had called at the Albany to make inquiries regarding Lord Winborough's whereabouts. However far afield his cousin might happen to be, he almost invariably returned to England in the late summer and paid frequent visits to London. Geoff was anxious to persuade Lord Winborough now definitely to arrange to fulfil his promise of sitting to Jack Hardy. It had not taken Geoff long to discover that his friend was unhappy and dispirited. The allegorical picture had been so far a miserable failure, and had left Jack in exactly the frame of mind to follow the dictates of worldly wisdom. He knew in his heart that portraiture, whether in oils or marble, was his _forte_, and the news that Lord Winborough was expected at his chambers in the course of a few days had served to brace him up anew. He would follow up the advantages in obtaining paying "sitters" that would probably result from his exhibiting a successful bust of the earl, and the long-dreamed-of "Belle Dame" picture should really be the last of its type, as far as he was concerned. Having definitely made up his mind to this, he was rewarded by a renewal of enthusiasm and belief in the future.