"Just three weeks," she replied. "Poppa had his bigger salary, and as it was getting tedious seeing couples married I made haste to come over again. You can't imagine how impatient I was to get back in time for _vernissage_. It gives such a fillip to your ambitions to see crowds round your friends' pictures, and to read about them in the papers; it makes you realise your own powers, and sets you wondering why _you_ hadn't dared to send something in. When you are tired of lamenting your folly you begin to admire your modesty, and of course you remember that modesty is the mark of true genius." "And you had all those thoughts?" "Oh, no! They are the thoughts I should have had if I hadn't been busy admiring the dresses. The pictures must wait--I shall be going again to see those, perhaps two or three times. Most students do. One is supposed to learn from them, but in practice one only criticises. The boys say everything is rotten. We girls pretend to agree with them, only, of course, it wouldn't be proper to express our opinion as violently as that. Do you dine here as well?" "I dine as the whim takes me. You see I haven't yet acquired a habit for evening wear. Not every Bohemian can make that boast." Miss Brooke laughed. "Bohemians mostly acquire bad habits for evening wear. But I'm going to cut Bohemianism altogether so far as my meals are concerned, and settle down in a _pension_. Two or three of the girls live there, and they report well of it. I also made friends while crossing with a girl who was being consigned there." He asked whether she had had a good crossing, and whether she were a good sailor. Miss Brooke replied that the weather had been perfect the whole way and she had enjoyed herself, and she proceeded to entertain him by relating incidents of the passage. Meanwhile the little restaurant had filled, and was nearly empty again. They rose at last and settled their _additions_. Paul then noticed that Miss Brooke had her painting materials with her, and insisted on carrying them so far as her school. They stepped out into the sunshine, and became aware how fine a day it was. "The afternoon almost tempts me to cut the Beaux Arts," said Paul. "By the way, how are you getting on there?" asked Miss Brooke. He was only too eager to tell her of his progress, and to discuss his chances of a medal. He also gave her an account of the new friends he had made--he liked the American "boys" very much, was indebted to them for endless kindnesses. "Why didn't you look up Charlie?" she asked suddenly. "How could I?" he asked, annoyed at the mention of the man's name, reminding him, as it did, of the apparent and inexplicable intimacy between the two, and also telling him they must already have seen each other.