"You've always posed, haven't you, Mrs. Harbert?"
Philia was decidedly a trifle aggrieved by this query, and answered in wounded tones—
"Now, sir, if yer was a few years older, yer wouldn't need to ask that. There was a time when every hartist in London knew all about Philadelphia 'Arbert, and it wasn't sich a great time ago either."
"Evidently I don't know much?" queried Geoff with a good-natured smile.
The reply was certainly cutting.
"You never 'eard tell of Philadelphia 'Arbert as a model, and you don't know 'ow to keep yer sweet'eart's eyes dry. Well, sir, askin' yer pardin', but you 'ave got somethin' to learn!"
The young man bit his lip and did not answer. This silence melted his outspoken critic immediately, and she set to work to be amiable.
"Hexcuse me if I'm rather sharp, but it is 'ard to 'ave bin famous once and to find yer 'ard-earned fame all gorn. Why, I can remember the time when any hartist gentlemen as wanted to bring Venus or any other of them 'eathen young women into a picture, didn't feel 'e'd done all he could to 'elp 'imself until 'e'd got me to pose for 'im. That's a fact, sir! I'd a lovely figger when I was a gal. None o' the young women now, only exceptin' Evarne, comes up to what models was in my young days, and I—well, my gosh! I've 'ad a long string o' great painters waitin' their turn till I was disengaged and could oblige."
"It must have been both pleasant and profitable to be in such demand."
Mrs. Harbert looked down with becoming modesty, and smoothed her apron as she replied—