Harold, seeming to take no cognizance of the dog, came nearer, and waited until the absorbed figure before the easel should notice him. Presently she did this by saying formally:
“Martha is not here. She has not been here to-day.”
“She is at home. I have just left her,” he answered.
“Oh, I beg your pardon! I thought you had come to see her.”
“No; I have come to see you.”
“To see me?” lifting her eyebrows in light surprise.
“If you are at leisure.”
“I am busy, as you see; but I can talk to you as I draw, if you don’t mind.”
“If you will allow me, I will wait until your drawing is done.”
“That would take up too much of your time,” she said, laying down her charcoal, and elaborately brushing off her fingers with her handkerchief.