. Otherwise, having left the two together with the object
which she had acknowledged to herself, she would hardly have returned
to them, after so short an interval.

"I hope you won't dislike the trouble of all this?" said Dalrymple to
his model, as soon as Mrs. Broughton was gone.

"I cannot say that I like it very much," said Miss Van Siever.

"I'm afraid it will be a bore;--but I hope you'll go through with
it."

"I shall if I am not prevented," said Miss Van Siever. "When I've
said that I'll do a thing, I like to do it."

There was a pause in the conversation which took up a considerable
portion of the five minutes. Miss Van Siever was not holding her nail
during those moments, but was sitting in a commonplace way on her
chair, while Dalrymple was scraping his palette. "I wonder what it
was that first induced you to sit?" said he.

"Oh, I don't know. I took a fancy for it."

"I'm very glad you did take the fancy. You'll make an excellent
model. If you won't mind posing again for a few minutes-- I will not
weary you to-day. Your right arm a little more forward."

"But I should tumble down."

"Not if you lean well on to the nail."

"But that would have woken Sisera before she had struck a blow."

"Never mind that. Let us try it." Then Mrs. Broughton returned, with
that pleasant feeling in her bosom of having done her duty as a wife,
a friend, and a Christian. "Mrs. Broughton," continued the painter,
"just steady Miss Van Siever's shoulder with your hand; and now bring
the arm and the elbow a little more forward."

"But Jael did not have a friend to help her in that way," said Miss
Van Siever.

At the end of an hour and a half the two ladies retired, and Jael
disrobed herself, and Miss Van Siever put on her customary raiment.
It was agreed among them that they had commenced their work
auspiciously, and that they would meet again on the following Monday.
The artist begged to be allowed an hour to go on with his work in Mrs
Broughton's room, and the hour was conceded to him. It was understood
that he could not take the canvas backwards and forwards with him to
his own house, and he pointed out that no progress whatever could be
made, unless he were occasionally allowed some such grace as this.
Mrs. Broughton doubted and hesitated, made difficulties, and lifted up
her hands in despair. "It is easy for you to say, Why not? but I know
very well why not." But at last she gave way. "Honi soit qui mal y
pense,