Mrs. Wilcox was
amazed.

"We will slip away now," Elsie said, in a low tone to Curtis, and they
both rose. As they were about to leave the room Brisbane looked up in
surprise. "Where are you going? Don't you smoke, Captain? Stay and have
a cigar."

Elsie answered for him. "Captain Curtis can come back, but I want him to
see my studio now, for I know if you get to talking politics he will
miss the pictures altogether."

"She has a notion I'm growing garrulous," Brisbane retorted, "but I deny
the charge. Well, let me see you later, Captain; there are some things I
want to discuss with you."

"Grace, you are to come, too," Elsie said to her girl friend, and led
the way out into the hall.

Miss Cooke stepped to Curtis's side. "You've been in Washington
before?" she asked, with an inflection which he hated.

"Oh yes, many times. In fact, I lived here till I was sixteen. I was
born in Maryland, not far from here."

"Indeed! Then you know the city thoroughly?"

"Certain sides of it. Exteriorly and officially I know it; socially, I
am a stranger to it. My people were proud and poor. A good old family in
a fine old house, and very little besides."

Elsie led the way slowly up the big staircase, secretly hoping Miss
Cooke would find it too cool for her thin blood. She wished to be alone
with Curtis, and this wish, obscure as it was, grew stronger as she set
a chair for him and placed a frame on an easel.

"You really need daylight to see them properly."

"Am I to make remarks?"

"Certainly; tell me just what you think."

"Then let me preface my helpful criticisms by saying that I don't know
an earthly thing about painting. We had drawing, of a certain kind, at
the academy, and I used to visit the galleries in New York when occasion
served. Now you know the top and the bottom of my art education."

"It's cold in here, Elsie," broke in Miss Cooke, whom they had quite
forgotten. "Is the steam turned on?"

"Wrap my slumber-robe around you," Elsie carelessly replied. "Now here
is my completed study of Little Peta. What do you think of that? Is it
like her?"

"Very like her, indeed. I think it excellent," he said, with unaffected
enthusiasm. "She was a quaint little thing. She is about to be married
to young Two Horns--a white man's wedding."

Elsie's eyes glowed. "Oh, I wish I could see that! But don't let her
wear white man's clothing. She'd be so cunning in her own way of dress.
I wish she had not learned to