What said Evarne's most-admired philosopher?
"I say then of all in general, both men and women, that the whole of our race would be happy if we worked out love perfectly, and if each were to meet with his beloved."
Was not Diotima, who taught Socrates, a wise woman indeed, capable of imparting the truest, the most divine of all wisdom?
Thus the winged hours sped past.
A dainty little supper was ready, and finally they sat down side by side and played at eating. Over the little meal the conversation became really quite practical and business-like.
Geoffrey had said nothing of the prospect he had of succeeding sooner or later to his childless cousin's earldom. That startling piece of information seemed to him to be best reserved for discussion on some other less idyllic occasion. But it was partly this that gave emphasis to his inquiry.
"You will not continue posing now, will you, dearie?"
"I have not any choice," laughed Evarne. "There are some people who make me. Let me see, there's the landlord and the tradesmen and——"
"Then come here, won't you? Really, I not only want you—I need you. I'm going to start a big picture—any number of figures in it."
"What is the subject, and who am I to be?"