that he would run his risk about the money, and take
Clara either with or without it, if she would have him. And as for
that difficulty in asking her, if Mrs. Broughton would give him no
opportunity of putting the question behind her back, he would put it
before her face. He had not much leisure for consideration on these
points, as the next day was the day for the last sitting.

On the following morning he found Miss Van Siever already seated
in Mrs. Broughton's room when he reached it. And at the moment Mrs
Broughton was not there. As he took Clara's hand he could not prevent
himself from asking her whether she had heard anything? "Heard what?"
asked Clara. "Then you have not," said he. "Never mind now, as Mrs
Broughton is here." Then Mrs. Broughton had entered the room. She
seemed to be quite cheerful, but Dalrymple perfectly understood, from
a special glance which she gave to him, that he was to perceive that
her cheerfulness was assumed for Clara's benefit. Mrs. Broughton was
showing how great a heroine she could be on behalf of her friends.
"Now, my dear," she said, "do remember that this is the last day. It
may be very well, Conway, and, of course, you know best; but as far
as I can see, you have not made half as much progress as you ought to
have done." "We shall do excellently well," said Dalrymple. "So much
the better," said Mrs. Broughton; "and now, Clara, I'll place you."
And so Clara was placed on her knees, with the turban on her head.

Dalrymple began his work assiduously, knowing that Mrs. Broughton
would not leave the room for some minutes. It was certain that she
would remain for a quarter of an hour, and it might be as well that
he should really use that time on the picture. The peculiar position
in which he was placed probably made his work difficult to him. There
was something perplexing in the necessity which bound him to look
upon the young lady before him both as Jael and as the future Mrs
Conway Dalrymple, knowing as he did that she was at present simply
Clara Van Siever. A double personification was not difficult to him.
He had encountered it with every model that had sat to him, and with
every young lady he had attempted to win,--if he had ever made such
an attempt with one before. But the triple character, joined to the
necessity of the double work, was distressing to him. "The hand a
little further back, if you don't mind," he said, "and the wrist
more turned towards me. That is just it. Le