"And I can't help you," said Mrs Lascelles, with a laugh. "You see, mother, so far as I am concerned, it would be the greatest relief; but Bell thinks that by repeating it will be made of more importance, and I don't know that she isn't right." "Well," said her mother, after a pause, "I trust you entirely, Kitty." "I believe I must tell you," said the girl, "and then you must decide whether it should go any farther." For in her heart of hearts, Kitty knew that her father was not the safest person in the world for such a confidence, and knew that her mother was aware of it, too. "It is about the model." Mrs Lascelles looked uneasy. "Mother, Bell thinks that Mr Everitt could not get the man he promised to send, and that--he came himself." "Kitty!" "Yes. It's dreadful," Kitty said despairingly. "It's absurd! It must be Bell's imagination. Came himself?" "Do you think she can have imagined it?"--more hopefully. "She declares she is quite sure. And you heard what Colonel Aitcheson said?" "There may be a likeness--of course there must be a likeness--but it is far more probable that this likeness misled them, than that such an extraordinarily unlikely thing should be done by any one. Still, the very idea would distress your father more than I can say." "That's what I thought,"--despairingly again. "Mother, ought he to know?" Mrs Lascelles hesitated, "No. I think, while it is all so uncertain, and may be only Bell's fancy, that Bell is right in saying it should be kept quiet. Of course, if he were coming here again, it would be necessary to ascertain one way or the other; but you say there is no fear of that?" Kitty shook her head. "He didn't want to come to-day." "Kitty," said her mother suddenly, "did you suspect anything?" "Not yesterday," said the girl, lifting her clear true eyes to her mother's. "But to-day I did feel uncomfortable. I noticed his hands and his voice seemed different--not like that of a common man." "What did he say?" Mrs Lascelles tried to speak indifferently. "Oh, he spoke--why, if it were Mr Everitt, he spoke about himself. I asked him, you know." "Oh!" Mrs Lascelles might be forgiven for looking anxiously at her daughter's sweet unconscious lace, and thinking that a man might peril a good deal for a second sight of it. But Kitty read a certain reproach in the look. "Mother,"--earnestly--"I hadn't the smallest suspicion. Of course, I treated him like any other model." "Of course," said her mother, kissing her. "My dear, I am not blaming you in the least. It is only an unfortunate beginning to have this idea troubling one, even if, as I believe, Bell's imagination has run away with her. I shan't like to leave you here alone. At any rate, did I understand anything about another model coming in his place?" "Yes; another man in the same costume."