"Who was the young girl with the Boarder?" John next vouchsafed.
"Why, Lily Rose, of course. The Lily for whom he 'sot for his likeness in the surplus.' That awful surplice," she burst forth in irritation at the mere mention of the unfortunate word. "Some of these people must have it. John, you don't half try to find it."
"I am following out the list in order," he assured her. "I shall go to see Mrs. Hudgers to-morrow."
"And the next one to her," reminded Colette, "is Derry Phillips, Amarilly's new benefactor. She told me to-day that she had a note from him, asking her to begin work at the studio in a few days."
"I have a double duty in my call there," said John didactically. "If he is like some of the young artists I know, his studio will hardly be a proper place for Amarilly."
"As it happens," returned Colette coldly, "Derry Phillips, for all his nonsense, is reported to be a true gentleman; but it would make no difference with Amarilly if he were not. Her inherent goodness would counteract the evil of any atmosphere. She can take care of his rooms until she is a little older. Then she can become a model."
"Colette!" he exclaimed protestingly.
"Why not?" she returned. "Why shouldn't Amarilly be a model, or go on the stage? Neither place would be below her station in life."
John sought refuge in utter silence which admonished and exasperated
Colette far more than any reproof would have done.
"You might as well go, if you have nothing to say," she remarked stiffly, as he lingered in the portico, evidently expecting an invitation to enter.