“When shall we have the first sitting, Mrs St. John?” he exclaimed after the usual greetings were over. “I am quite anxious to begin.”
“Why not fix Monday?” suggested St. John amicably.
“Monday!” cried Jill. “It’s washing day. How can you be so inconsiderate?”
“Oh, ah! washing day! I forgot. The atmosphere is composed of soap-suds, and we have cold meat. Not Monday, my dear boy; it is the most ungodly day of the week.”
“Tuesday would do,” said Jill, “if that suits, and I think three o’clock would be the most convenient hour for me. The light, of course, is best in the mornings, but I am always busy then.”
“Any time will suit me,” Markham answered promptly, “and any day.”
“Ah,” said Jill with a little smile, “Jack was like that once. Why don’t you get something to do?”
“Because it isn’t necessary.”
“But independence is such a grand thing,” she persisted.
“Exactly. I inherited it, and I like it best that way.”