"You shall not be subjected to the slightest inconvenience," he went on to Erika, "except that of being bored for a few hours. I know that you do not, as a rule, like my pictures, and therefore I promise you that I will burn this one if it does not please you, even though I should consider it a masterpiece. But should I succeed in pleasing you, the picture may serve to remind you sometimes of a poor fellow who----"
The sentence was cut short by the entrance of several visitors, and much talk and laughter ensued.
Lozoncyi stayed until all the rest had gone.
"When shall I have the first sitting?" he asked.
"Whenever you please," Erika made reply.
"To-morrow?"
"To-morrow? No; to-morrow will not do; but the day after to-morrow, in the forenoon, if you like."
His eyes sparkled. "About eleven?"
She assented.
"There goes another man whose head you have turned, Erika," remarked the old Countess, as the door closed behind the artist. She laughed as she said it. Good heavens! what did it matter?