“And well you may be,” he answered. “Your sister, I believe?”
“Mollie!” exclaimed Phil, stepping a trifle aside, to get into a better light, and speaking almost abstractedly. “Oh, yes, to be sure! She is my sister,—the youngest. There are three of them. That flesh tint is one of the best points.”
And in the meantime, while this apparently trivial conversation was being carried on in the studio, Mollie, in the parlor, had settled herself upon a stool close to the fire, and, resting her chin on her hand and her elbow on her knee, was looking reflective.
“That Chandos is somebody new,” 'Toinette remarked. “I hope he has come to buy something. I want some gold sleeve-loops for Tod. I saw some beauties the other day, when I was out.”
“But you could n't afford them if Phil sold two pictures instead of one,” said Aimée. “There are so many other useful things you need.”
“He is n't a stranger to me,” put in Mollie, suddenly. “I have seen him before.”
“Who?” said 'Toinette. She was thinking more of Tod's gold sleeve-loops than of anything else.
“This Mr. Chandos,” answered Mollie, without looking up from the fire. “I saw him at Brabazon Lodge the night I went to take Dolly her dress. He was with Mr. Gowan, and I dropped my glove, and he picked it up for me. I was coming out as they were going in.”
“I wonder,” said Aimée, “whether Mr. Gowan goes to Brabazon Lodge often?”
“I don't know, I 'm sure,” answered Mollie, shrugging her shoulder. “How is one to learn? He would n't be likely to tell us. I should think, though, that he does. He is too fond of Dolly"—with a slight choke in her voice—"to stay away, if he can help it.”