'Yes, that's the worst of it. I like men, men are my life, I don't mind admitting it. But I know they've interfered with my painting. That's the worst of it.'
Then the conversation turned on Cissy Clive. 'Cissy is a funny girl,' Elsie said. 'For nine months out of every twelve she leads a highly- respectable life in West Kensington. But every now and then the fit takes her, and she tells her mother, who believes every word she says, that she's staying with me. In reality, she takes rooms in Clarges Street, and has a high old time.'
'I once heard her whispering to you something about not giving her away if you should happen to meet her mother.'
'I remember, about Hopwood Blunt. He had just returned from Monte
Carlo.'
'But I suppose it is all right. She likes talking to him.'
'I don't think she can find much to talk about to Hopwood Blunt,' said
Elsie, laughing. 'Haven't you seen him? He is often in the galleries.'
'What does she say?'
'She says he's a great baby—that he amuses her.'
Next day, Mildred went to visit Cissy in the unfrequented gallery where her 'Bather' would not give scandal to the visitors. She had nearly completed her copy; it was excellent, and Mildred could not praise it sufficiently. Then the girls spoke of Elsie and Walter. Mildred said:
'She seems very fond of him.'