and Tommy sidling
mischievously away, like conspirators who have lighted a time fuse. She
considered that Tommy, with her red hair and freckles, and strange glances
and strange tones full of a naughty and malicious sweetness, was even more
peculiar than Miss Ingate. But she was not intimidated by them nor by the
illustrious Monsieur Dauphin, so perfectly master of his faculties. Rather
she was exultant in the contagion of their malice. Once more she felt as if
she had ceased to be a girl a very long time ago. And she was aware of
agreeable and exciting temptations.

"Are you taking a house in Paris?" inquired Monsieur Dauphin.

Audrey answered primly:

"I haven't decided. Should you advise me to do so?"

He waved a hand.

"Ah! It depends on the life you wish to lead. Who knows--with a young woman
who has all experience behind her and all life before her! But I do hope I
may see you again. And I trust I may persuade you to come to my studio
again." Audrey felt the thrill of drama as he proceeded. "This is scarcely
a night for you. I ought to tell you that I give three entertainments
during the autumn. To-night is the first. It is for students and those
English and Americans who think they are seeing Paris here. Then I give
another for the political and dramatic worlds. Each is secretly proud to
meet the other. The third I reserve to my friends. Some of my many friends
in London are good enough to come over specially for it. It is on
Christmas Eve. I do wish you would come to that one."

"I suppose," she said, catching the diabolic glances of Miss Ingate and
Tommy, "I suppose you know almost more people in London than in Paris?"

He answered:

"Well, I count among my friends more than two-thirds of the subscribers to
Covent Garden Opera.... By the way, do you happen to be connected with the
Moncreiffs of Suddon Wester? They have a charming house in Hyde Park
Terrace. But probably you know it?"

Audrey burst out laughing. She laughed loud and violently till the tears
stood in her eyes.

"Well," he said, at a loss, deprecatingly. "Perhaps these Moncreiffs _are_
rather weird."

"I was only laughing," she said in gasps, but with a complete secret
composure. "Because we had such an awful quarrel with them last year. I
couldn't tell you the details. They're too shocking."

He gave a dubious smile.

"D'you know, dear young lady," he recommenced after a brief pause, "I
should adore to paint a portrait of you laug