"Mr. Granthope!" He was busy, and did not answer.
"Mr. Granthope!"
He looked up, now, to see her put her thumb to her nose with a playfully derisive gesture, such as gamins use.
He put his head back and laughed.
Then she looked at him seriously, saying, "When I am, you'll never know it. I'm not afraid of ladies' maids. When you really get into your own class it will be time enough for me to worry. But I wish you wouldn't use those girls. They're all cats, and they'll scratch!"
She was standing before the mirror inside the closet door, with her hat pin between her lips, adjusting her toque to the masses of her russet hair, when there came a knock at the hall door. She looked round and raised her eyebrows, then, after closing the door to the anteroom of the studio, she called "Come in!"
Madam Spoll, in a black silk gown covered with a raglan, entered. She wore a man's small, low-crowned, Derby hat trimmed with a yellow bird's wing.
"How d'you do?" said Fancy, not too cordially.
"Good evening," Madam Spoll panted; then, as her breath was spent with climbing the stairs, she dropped into a chair and gasped heavily. Fancy went on with her preparations without further attention to her visitor.
"Frank in?" was Madam Spoll's query as soon as she could breathe.