"Sit down; not there—here by the door; I want to show you something."
"Oh, some new and wonderful work of your transcendent genius, I suppose. By the way, how is the picture for the Salon getting along?"
"Tediously, Harry; I seem to have lost the spirit of the thing."
"Found too much spirit of another kind, perhaps."
"No, not that. I have been a model of abstinence of late."
"And the heavens do not fall?
"No—yes—that is—let your tongue rest for a moment, please, and use your eyes."
While the artist had been speaking he had taken the large screen from before the window and moved his easel into a stronger light. Upon it he now placed the two portraits in their former position. The effect upon the other was vigorous and immediate.
"Heavens! Julian, where did you get that angel and that dev—I beg pardon, that extraordinary pair of beauties? Oh, I see!—why, of course! a new idea for the Salon. A modern Guinevere and Elaine; Siren and Saint; Sense and Innocence. I congratulate you, old boy; they are wonderful"—
"Please be quiet for a moment, Harry; they are not for the Salon. They are two sitters of mine. The one beneath has been here twice—the first time about a week ago; the second time day before yesterday. The other came for the first time to-day."