too below the dignity of the
brilliant lion to appear to snatch at the opportunity of turning a few
honest guineas through the grace of his humble entertainers.

"Let us have the Highland scene down by all means," said Mr. Robinson.
"And I've an idea! If we can induce Mr. Wyndham to paint our Alice's
portrait, why, then we should have something first-rate to hang in its
place."

Miss Robinson turned fiery red; the quick glance she flashed at her
father was the more conspicuous. "How splendid!" she exclaimed
breathlessly. Her bosom heaved. Wyndham was almost painfully aware of
the thumping of her heart.

But he himself was caught quite unprepared. True that the unexpected had
happened again, but that very quality of the event was in this instance
disconcerting. No doubt they observed his slight hesitation.

"Of course it would be a great privilege for us," interposed Mrs.
Robinson; "but it seems to me we are counting without Mr. Wyndham's
authority."

Wyndham inclined his head graciously with a smile; swiftly master of the
situation again, and improving the occasion with a compliment.

"Oh! I shall be most delighted." He gave his proposed subject the
professional glance that the occasion authorised. "Miss Robinson will
afford me the opportunity of a most distinguished piece of portraiture."

Miss Robinson gazed at her plate, nervously peeling a banana. She had
not spoken much during the dinner, but she had hung on Wyndham's words
with a naive, unconscious admiration, which, from a prettier and more
brilliant woman, he would scarcely have passed with so little a sense of
appreciation.

"Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Wyndham," she said simply. "I am
afraid the distinction will be due more to your work than to your
sitter."

"No, indeed, Miss Robinson," he protested, with a suave gravity that
made his polished assurance the more impressive and charming. "I did not
intend any compliment--I spoke only as the artist." He was rather
surprised that a woman should display so little vanity. And, in a subtle
way, it did not enhance his estimation of her.

Miss Robinson's banana occupied her more earnestly than ever; but her
mother came to the rescue by raising the important question of costume.
Wyndham, after further professional consideration of his client,
preferred to paint Miss Robinson as he saw her now. And with a ready
sense of detail he saw, too, that certain rings she wore, though he had
not observed them