"How say you?--still unfinished?" cried Helen. "Well, if you go on at that rate, by next sitting I shall expect to hear it speak." "Come, Helen," said her mother, "we must be off, for we have no time to lose. Another time, when we have less to do, I shall be most happy to let you assist the gentleman to finish his pictur'," and curtseying to McGuilp, she led her daughter out of the room, while the painter was left to the uninspired operations of cleaning his palette and brushes, and putting his studio in order previous to joining the other members of the club. FOOTNOTES: [7] A paul is half a franc. [8] A corruption of the word _compare_ (godfather) which is used as a familiar appellation among the peasantry, even when no such relations exists between them. [9] Paini, the grade between a peasant and a gentleman. [10] A sort of pudding made of chestnut flour. [11] A species of cake made of Indian corn, used much among the Italian peasantry, being cheaper than bread. [12] A paul is half a franc, and equal to five pence. [13] Padrone, master. [14] Oh, my holy souls of Purgatory! [15] Body of St. Anthony of Padua! [16] A corruption of per Cristo. [17] It is the custom in Roman Catholic countries for the dead to be exposed in the centre of the church for twenty-four hours upon a bier, with a candle burning. [18] To your Lordship. [19] A halfpenny. [Illustration] CHAPTER IV. THE WAXEN IMAGE.--THE HOSTESS'S STORY. We have alluded before the commencement of our late story to a clapping of hands proceeding from the club-room, announcing the termination of some tale from our hostess. It will be remembered that the tale of our landlady had come to an end previous to the commencement of our artist's narrative. Let us entreat our reader, then, to take a retrospect glance, and imagine himself seated in the club-room, in the company of its worthy members and our buxom hostess, whilst the painter was deeply absorbed in his portrait of the fair Helen. Dame Hearty, after continued pressing, and some diffidence on her part, seemed finally to be collecting her ideas, which process was performed by casting down her eyes and toying with the corners of her apron; then as if suddenly inspired, she abruptly smoothed down her apron on her lap, and dovetailing the fingers of each ruddy hand within those of the other, she hemmed once or twice and proceeded in the following strain. When I was a girl, gentlemen, about the age of my Helen, I was just such another as she, though I dare say you would hardly believe it, to look at me now; but ask my good man and he'll tell you the same. Look at my Helen, and you will see what your humble servant was at her age. I had the same rosy cheeks, like two ripe apples, the same laughing blue eyes and sunny hair, and as for spirits, why, Lord bless you, the dear child ain't nothing to what her mother was at her age.