observed. "Miss Rooth has to
work with others, which is after all only what Mr. Dormer has to do when
he works with Miss Rooth. What do you make of the inevitable sitter?"

"Oh," answered Miriam, "you can say to the inevitable sitter, 'Hold your
tongue, you brute!'"

"Isn't it a good deal in that manner that I've heard you address your
comrades at the theatre?" Mrs. Rooth inquired. "That's why my heart's in
my mouth."

"Yes, but they hit me back; they reply to me--_comme de raison_--as I
should never think of replying to Mr. Dormer. It's a great advantage to
him that when he's peremptory with his model it only makes her better,
adds to her expression of gloomy grandeur."

"We did the gloomy grandeur in the other picture: suppose therefore we
try something different in this," Nick threw off.

"It _is_ serious, it _is_ grand," murmured Mrs. Rooth, who had taken up
a rapt attitude before the portrait of her daughter. "It makes one
wonder what she's thinking of. Beautiful, commendable things--that's
what it seems to say."

"What can I be thinking of but the tremendous wisdom of my mother?"
Miriam returned. "I brought her this morning to see that thing--she had
only seen it in its earliest stage--and not to presume to advise you
about anything else you may be so good as to embark on. She wanted, or
professed she wanted, terribly to know what you had finally arrived at.
She was too impatient to wait till you should send it home."

"Ah send it home--send it home; let us have it always with us!" Mrs.
Rooth engagingly said. "It will keep us up, up, and up on the heights,
near the stars--be always for us a symbol and a reminder!"

"You see I was right," Miriam went on; "for she appreciates thoroughly,
in her own way, and almost understands. But if she worries or distracts
you I'll send her directly home--I've kept the carriage there on
purpose. I must add that I don't feel quite safe to-day in letting her
out of my sight. She's liable to make dashes at the theatre and play
unconscionable tricks there. I shall never again accuse mamma of a want
of interest in my profession. Her interest to-day exceeds even my own.
She's all over the place and she has ideas--ah but ideas! She's capable
of turning up at the theatre at five o'clock this afternoon to demand
the repainting of the set in the third act. For myself I've not a word
more to say on the subject--I've accepted every danger, I've swallowed
my fate. Everything's no dou