Miss Jinny had a queer look, Patricia thought, as she turned hurriedly away with a murmured excuse about the tea table.
"Why, it's all ready," cried Patricia wondering at her changed manner. "We put the sliced lemon on the very last thing."
But Miss Jinny was not to be diverted into talk again, and as she started out of the studio the bell came to her aid, buzzing shrilly an insistent summons to the door.
"That's Griffin; I know her ring!" cried Patricia jumping up. "I'll go."
Griffin it was, in the highest good humor and bursting with news. She did not wait to get out of her coat before she began to unbosom herself to them both, alternately addressing each in turn.
"Kendall Major's missed it, I tell you, going off to that poky architectural show," she declared to Miss Jinny. "We had the time of our lives today in life class. Benton's up in the air because Howes showed him that Ascension study she did over here—you know he never could bear Haydon or his work—and he was as mad as hops that he should be butting in with any of his own special pets like Howes."
"How mean!" cried Patricia spiritedly. "Bruce hasn't even seen that study. What did he say about it?"
"Oh, he couldn't say anything right out," replied Griffin knowingly, "but he made it hot for us, I tell you. Poor old Bottle Green caught it first, for painting before he'd given her permission, and then he jumped on me for not painting. Radford caught it and then he lit on Slovinski for using the Whistler palette, and she just blew up! These Poles aren't like us tame tabbies, you know, and she's full of ginger, for all her sleepy ways. She's terribly high-born, you know, and can't bear anyone to look cross-eyed at her."
"What did she do?" asked Patricia eagerly.
"Slammed him good and hard," returned Griffin succinctly. "Told him he was fifteen different sorts of a lobster."