"I wish I could have gone myself," said Gertrude, in a worried tone; "but I promised Mrs. Staines to be in for her."
"Yes, he is a nice young man," answered Phyllis, unblushingly, looking up from her prints.
"Oh Phyllis, Phyllis, don't talk like a housemaid."
"I say, Gerty, all this is delightfully unchaperoned, isn't it?"
"Phyllis, how can you?" cried Gertrude, vexed.
The question of propriety was one which she always thought best left to itself, which she hated, above all things, to discuss. Yet even her own unconventional sense of fitness was a little shocked at seeing her sister walk out of the house with an unknown young man, both of them being bound for the studio of the latter.
She was quite relieved when, an hour later, Lucy appeared in the waiting-room, fresh and radiant from her little walk.
"Mrs. Staines has been and gone," said Gertrude. "She worried dreadfully. But what have you done with 'number three?'"
"Oh, I left the camera at York Place. I am going again to-morrow to do some work for Mr. Oakley, who shares Mr. Jermyn's studio."