He made a little nod in the affirmative. “Well, he could scarcely try to keep that knowledge from me,” Mrs. Elles thought to herself. “It is Rokeby,” Egidia went on, “Scott’s Rokeby--that place where Mr. Rivers works so much. Rather near your part of the world, I believe.” “I know it well,” Mrs. Elles said. Rivers was standing abstractedly a few yards away from the two women. Mrs. Elles resented his lack of emotional interest. “It is quite charming!” she said, raising her voice. “And is that a little figure I see--on the edge of the stream? Some village girl you got to stand for you, I suppose?” It was no village girl, and she knew it. It was herself, done by her own desire. She had begged him to put in some human interest for once, and he had indulgently agreed to do so, on condition she supplied it herself. She had posed for twenty minutes under a broiling sun, and had refused the gift of the sketch when it was done. She had somehow wished that the memento of her should be retained by him, not her. No, he could never have cared for her, or he could never have borne to give away that sketch to another woman! Her lips stiffened and then quivered. Had she known what was actually the fact, that the circumstance of her posing for that particular sketch had completely lapsed from the painter’s memory, would she have been less distressed? “That is the very reason I chose it,” Egidia said, taking the drawing out of her hands. “Mr. Rivers gave me my choice of the Rokeby sketches, and out of a whole quantity of them in his studio I chose this one because it had a little human interest in it. I like people, you know. I should feel the world so cold, so dull, without them. I can’t think how you, Cousin Edmund, manage to do without them so nicely!” The painter actually laughed--from an excess of nervousness, Phœbe Elles hoped. “Do say that I may bring Mrs. Elles to see your studio one day? I am sure she would like to see it!” “I should be delighted,” he said, “only you know a landscape painter’s studio is not much to look at. Now Tadema’s---- ” “Ah! but then Mrs. Elles is not blasée on the subject of studios as yet, are you, Mrs. Elles? She wants to see a little bit of everything now that she is here, don’t you? You remember our conversation in Newcastle? We must go about a little together and see the sights. I don’t mean the Tower and the Monument--you are of course far above these. You might ask us to tea in your studio,” she ended, turning, suddenly appealing, to Rivers. “She wants to show off her intimacy with him,” Mrs. Elles thought bitterly. “I will,” said Rivers gravely. “You must write and name your own day. It will have to be when I come back from Paris.” “Oh, are you going to Paris?” Egidia exclaimed, obviously surprised and completely uninstructed in his movements. “I think I shall have to, on business; but I will let you know when I come back, and I will try to get a few interesting people to meet you--and your friend!”