"That of the prettiest girl in London!"
"I never heard a swell go so near the truth," growled John, half pleased and half annoyed.
"Don't you think it is almost time for you to speak a little more plainly, Bella?" asked Fanny. "How do you know this Colonel Orpington, and what has he been saying about me?"
"This Colonel Orpington, indeed!" cried Miss Merton. "My dear, this Colonel Orpington is simply one of the best men of the day, extremely rich, and--well, you know--one of those nice fellows who are liked by everybody. He came into our place the other day, and when I looked up from my desk in the front room, where I was writing a private letter--for I had nothing else to do--I saw him; and I thought to myself, 'I know you, Colonel Orpington! I've seen you about often. So you've come for a sitting, have you? Won't Mr. Kammerer be wild to think you should have come when he was out of town!' However, he came straight towards me; and he took off his hat, like a gentleman as he is, and he said, 'There is a portrait in a frame outside the door which strikes me as a wonderful example of photography, of which I am a connoisseur.' I knew what he meant at once, bless you; but I said, 'You mean the gentleman in the skull-cap and the long beard--Professor Gilks?' He muttered something about Professor Gilks--I daren't say what--but then said No; he meant the coloured female head--was it for sale? I told him I could not answer him without referring to Mr. Kammerer, who was at Ramsgate. The Colonel begged me to telegraph to him, and he would call next day. He did call next day, took the photograph, and paid twenty guineas for it, which was a good thing for Mr. Kammerer."
"Very likely," burst in John Merton; "but a bad thing for art, and decency, and----"
"Don't distress yourself, John! Very likely it was all you say; but, you see, Mr. Kammerer is not here for you to pitch into, and Fanny couldn't help her portrait being bought by an admirer. Oh, he was an admirer, Fanny; for when I tied it up for him, he said out, 'It's lovely, but it doesn't do justice to the original.' And when I asked him did he know the original, he said he thought he had had that honour. And so it's no good your bursting into virtuous indignation."
Her brother shrugged his shoulders and was silent; but Fanny Stothard said:
"Don't you think this joke has gone far enough? Augusta and Mr. Burgess here are sitting in wild astonishment, as well they may be. Let us change the conversation for the few minutes before we break up."
Late that night Fanny Stothard sat on the side of her bed in her room in South Molton Street, her hands clasped behind her head, her body gently swaying to and fro as she pondered over all she had heard that evening. On the table lay a letter from Paul Derinzy. It was the second she had had, and he had not been away from London five days. The first she had torn at eagerly and devoured its contents at once; this lay unopened.
"Very rich, that woman said," she muttered, "and a great man in his way. Fancy his buying the portrait, and after only seeing me once! That was very nice of him. Not in the least old-looking, and everybody likes him, Bella said. What a funny thing his recognising that photograph, and---- How horrible the journey home was to-night, and what detestable people in the omnibus!--such pushing and tramping on one's feet, and--I had no idea of that! I thought he looked hard at me once or twice, but I never imagined that he took any particular notice. Colonel Orpington! I shall look out his name in the Court Guide to-morrow, when I get to George Street, and see all about him. Had the honour of knowing me, he told Bella Merton! Ugh! how sick I am of this room, and how wearied of this life! Ah well, Paul's letter will keep till to-morrow; I'm sure I know what it's about. That was really very nice about the portrait! I wonder when Colonel Orpington will come back to town?"