Lily had risen from her seat, and now stood looking fixedly at the portrait of Valerie West, her furs trailing from one shoulder to the chair. "My eye and Betty Martin!" cried Cameron, "I'll take it all back, girls! It's a real studio after all--and this is the real thing! Louis, do you think she's seen the Aquarium? I'm disengaged after three o'clock--" He began to kiss his hand rapidly in the direction of the portrait, and then, fondly embracing his own walking stick, he took a few jaunty steps in circles, singing "Waltz me around again, Willy." Lily Collis said: "If your model is as lovely as her portrait, Louis, she is a real beauty. Who is she?" "A professional model." He could scarcely contain his impatience with his sister, with Cameron's fat humour, with Stephanie's quiet and intent scrutiny--as though, somehow, he had suddenly exposed Valerie herself to the cool and cynically detached curiosity of a world which she knew must always remain unfriendly to her. He was perfectly aware that his sister had guessed whose portrait confronted them; he supposed, too, that Stephanie probably suspected. And the knowledge irritated him more than the clownishness of Cameron. "It is a splendid piece of painting," said Stephanie cordially, and turned quietly to a portfolio of drawings at her elbow. She had let her fleeting glance rest on Neville for a second; had divined in a flash that he was enduring and not courting their examination of this picture; that, somehow, her accidental discovery of it had displeased him--was even paining him. "Sandy," she said cheerfully, "come here and help me look over these sketches." "Any peaches among 'em?" "Bushels." Cameron came with alacrity; Neville waited until Lily reluctantly resumed her seat; then he pushed back the easel, turned Valerie's portrait to the wall, and quietly resumed his painting. Art in any form was powerless to retain Cameron's attention for very many consecutive minutes at a time; he grew restless, fussed about with portfolios for a little while longer, enlivening the tedium with characteristic observations. "Well, I've got business down town," he exclaimed, with great pretence of regret. "Come on, Stephanie; we'll go to the Exchange and start something. Shall we? Oh, anything--from a panic to a bull-market! I don't care; go as far as you like. You may wreck a few railroads if you want to. Only I've _got_ to go.... Awfully good of you to let me--er--see all these--er--interesting and er--m-m-m--things, Louis. Glad I saw that dream of a peacherino, too. What is she on the side? An actorine? If she is I'll take a box for the rest of the season including the road and one-night stands.... Good-bye, Mrs. Collis! Good-bye, Stephanie! _Good_-bye, Louis!--I'll come and spend the day with you when you're too busy to see me. Now, Stephanie, child! It's the Stock Exchange or the Little Church around the Corner for you and me, if you say so!"