“Quite true. It is sold, you know; but since the dowager is not equal to art galleries I have given it a rest in her rooms before boxing it for the new owner.”
“I envy him,” murmured Madame; “the picture is the pretty octoroon glorified. So, Madame, your god-mother has two novelties to present tomorrow. Usually it is so difficult to find even one.”
When Delaven returned he found Lieutenant McVeigh still in the same nook by the mantel and still alone.
“Well, you are making a lonesome time of it in the middle of the crowd,” he remarked. “How have you been amused?”
“By listening to comments on two pictures, one of a colored beauty, and one of an atheistical grand dame.”
“And of the two?”
“Of the two I should fancy the last not the least offensive. And, look here, Delaven, just get me out of that engagement to look at Dumaresque’s new picture, won’t you? It really is not worth while for an American to come abroad for the study of pictured octoroons––we have too many of the originals at home.”