at are giving spreads in
their rooms, and I let them put them in here."

"Do you commonly let people put things in your room that they want to
get rid off?" asked Mrs. Pasmer.

"Well, not when I'm expecting company."

"He couldn't refuse even then, if they pressed the matter," said Mrs.
Saintsbury, lecturing upon him to her friend.

"I'm afraid you're too amiable altogether, Mr. Mavering. I'm sure you
let people impose upon you," said the other lady. "You have been letting
us impose upon you."

"Ah! now that proves you're all wrong, Mrs. Pasmer."

"It proves that you know how to say things very prettily."

"Oh, thank you. I know when I'm having a good time, and I do my best to
enjoy it." He ended with the nervous laugh which seemed habitual with
him.

"He, does laugh a good deal;" thought Mrs. Pasmer, surveying him with
smiling steadiness. "I suppose it tires Alice. Some of his teeth are
filled at the sides. That vein in his forehead--they say that means
genius." She said to him: "I hope you know when others are having a good
time too, Mr. Mavering? You ought to have that reward."

They both looked at Alice. "Oh, I should be so happy to think you hadn't
been bored with it all, Mrs. Pasmer," he returned;--with-deep feeling.

Alice was looking at one of the sketches which were pretty plentifully
pinned about the wall, and apparently seeing it and apparently listening
to what Professor Saintsbury was saying; but her mother believed from a
tremor of the ribbons on her hat that she was conscious of nothing but
young Mavering's gaze and the sound of his voice.

"We've been delighted, simply enchanted," said Mrs. Pasmer. And she
thought; "Now if Alice were to turn round just as she stands, he could
see all the best points of her face. I wonder what she really thinks of
him? What is it you have there; Alice?" she asked aloud.

The girl turned her face over her shoulder so exactly in the way her
mother wished that Mrs. Pasmer could scarcely repress a cry of joy. "A
sketch of Mr. Mavering's."

"Oh, how very interesting!" said Mrs. Pasmer. "Do you sketch, Mr.
Mavering? But of course." She pressed forward, and studied the sketch
inattentively. "How very, very good!" she buzzed deep in her throat,
while, with a glance at her daughter, she thought, "How impassive Alice
is! But she behaves with great dignity. Yes. Perhaps that's best. And
are you going to be an artist?" she asked of Mavering.

"Not if it can be preven