"Surely tea is compris?" she asked, with raised eyebrows. "We shan't stay more than an hour."
Morewood groaned, but ordered tea. After all, it was too dark to paint, and—well, she was amusing.
Eugene arrived almost at the same moment as tea. Morewood was glad to see him, and went as near showing it as he ever did. Lady Julia received him with effusion, Claudia with dignity.
"I have pursued you from Grosvenor Square, Lady Julia," he said. "I didn't come to see old Morewood, you know."
"As much as to see me, I dare say," said Lady Julia in an aside.
Eugene protested with a shake of the head, and Morewood carried him off to have such inspection of the picture as artificial light could afford.
"You've got her very well."
"Yes, pretty well. It's a bright little shallow face."
"Go to the devil!" said Eugene, in strong indignation.
"I only said that to draw you. There is something in the girl—but not overmuch, you know."