"I cannot help what God has done," she said, and smiled in the glass, alluringly.
"Careful!—careful!" he admonished—"or I have visions of another tousled head-dress."
"Very pretty—very pretty, indeed!" said Herford's voice behind them. "May I come into the picture?"
Instantly, Maynadier dropped her hand and stepped back; but she, womanlike, was the nimbler witted.
"You may have a portrait of yourself, alone," she answered; "this one is finished."
He laughed superciliously. "I hope so," he said; "finished for all time."
"Why, finished for all time, Captain Herford?" she inquired, a chilly note in her tone. "If Mr. Maynadier is good enough to show me, before the glass, how becomingly I am gowned, what affair is it of yours, or of any one?"
"I should never have guessed it!" he returned, with affected contrition.
"Possibly not, you are very slow at times."
"Because," he went on, "Mr. Maynadier's attention seemed to be directed entirely to your lips."