"But I thought a young fellow mentioned pretty well everything to his fiancée."
"Dolly is not my fiancée" said the artist.
"Is it all off, then?"
"It was never all on."
"Oh, indeed; excuse me, I thought from what your mother said the other night it was settled, and that you were going with the Milbankes to Venice."
"I am thinking of going to Venice."
"And taking a studio there for a month or two?"
"Yes."
"Convenient to have Dolly and her very amiable sister there at the same time; save you from ennui, and enable you to forget that woman's face."
"I shall never forget it."
"Nor will the public," said Dick, "if you finish your picture as you have begun it. I don't want to surprise your secret, but Miss Norcott is a very bright, charming, and desirable young woman."
Philip's reply was interrupted by a triple knock at the door, followed by a merry, musical voice which asked, "Is anything dreadful going on? May we come in?"
"That is Dolly," said Philip.
"Sounded to me like Mrs. Milbanke," said Dick.
"She said 'we,'" observed Philip, going to the door, "and that 'we' means Dolly and her sister, Jenny."
"Of course you may," said the artist, leading in a pretty fashionable girl of a little over twenty.
"Jenny is with me — she stayed to speak to the porter's wife. Here she is; come in, Jenny, there is nothing dreadful going on, only Mr. Chetwynd," said the young lady, in a pleasant voice. "Oh yes, there is," she continued, all in the same breath, and looking straight at Philip's sketch. "What a miserable lot! But how clever! Is this yours, Mr. Forsyth?"
