"That? Oh yes, there's a very remarkable story connected with that picture. A great deal in the girl's face, as you say. Well, Everitt happened to have painted it from a model; he doesn't always, you know. No, you're quite right; we do our best things entirely out of our own heads; it secures originality. Just so. However, sometimes Everitt has to fall back on a model, and we heard afterwards that this one was in disguise; there's was a hint that she was a duke's daughter--" "Oh, Mr Hibbert, how delightfully romantic! Do you mean to say you did not guess?" "Well, there was a something, there certainly was a something--you can see it in the face, can't you?--something so--so--" "_So_ distinguished. Exactly!" "Hibbert?" growled at his elbow. "Ah, here's Everitt himself; I'll make you over to him," said the unabashed young man, with a laugh. "I give you warning, though, that he hates romance. If you listen to him he'll deny that there's a word of truth in any of my stories." Later on Everitt fell upon him. "You unprincipled young dog, what do you mean by uttering such a farrago of nonsense? You'll be bringing all the scandal-mongers of London down on my head. A duke's daughter disguised as a model! I should like to know where your impudence will lead you!" "Oh, it was the duke's daughter which made it all right. Mr Smith will want to buy that picture, you'll see. Hallo!" Everitt's brow relaxed; he burst into a laugh, as the parrot, which Jack had been teasing, made a successful dive at his finger and seized it. Just at this moment the studio bell rang. "Another! I'm off!" cried Jack, jumping up from his chair. Everitt himself looked anything but pleased; he flung his cigarette down with an exclamation of annoyance, and went to the door, while Jack made his escape by another exit behind an elaborate Japanese screen. It was past the time for visitors, and the foremost of the two new-comers made haste to apologise. She was a pretty woman, and a favourite cousin of Everitt's, so that there was some excuse for her intrusion. "Yes, I know exactly what you said when you heard the bell," she said smiling. "Was Mr Hibbert with you as usual, and did he run away? I am sorry for that, because I like Mr Hibbert." "Did you come here to tell me so? And now that you are here, won't you sit down?" questioned Everitt in his turn, putting forward a couple of chairs, and clearing away a few motley bits of drapery. "No," said Mrs Marchmont; "I had two much better reasons. One was that I might bring Miss Aitcheson here. She has come up to London with an ingenuous mind which takes the most reverential attitude in the world towards art. I am trotting out all my lions for her benefit, and you are the biggest. Please show her something, and roar nicely." "I had better," he said, "since there is nothing else I can do. Don't you know that this is the empty time at all the studios?"