And hues of fancy's own creation!'"
A vociferous little clock on the mantelpiece struck ten.
"I must be off," said Frank; "there will be my model waiting for me. I am afraid I have wasted a great deal of your time this morning."
"No, indeed," said Lucy, as Gertrude rose and folded the seductive Woodcut, with a get-thee-behind-me-Satan air; "though I am glad to say we are quite busy."
"There are Lord Watergate's slides," added Phyllis; "and Mr. Darrell's sketches to finish off; not to speak of possible chance-comers."
"How do you get on with Darrell?" said Frank, who seemed to have forgotten his model, and made no movement to go.
"He has only been here once," answered Lucy, promptly; "but I like what I have seen of him."
"So do I," cried Phyllis.
"And I," added Frank.
In the face of this unanimity Gertrude wisely held her peace.