“Much younger than her husband, but not as young as she would like to be,” whispered Claudia hurriedly. “If you flatter her judiciously you may get a portrait out of her. She is dying to have it painted.”
The boy was opening the door, but he caught her arm with every appearance of sudden anger, and made her stop and look at him.
“Do you think I only like to come out with you because I may get commissions for portraits from your friends?” he said heatedly. “Answer me, please.”
Claudia looked at the boy and motioned him to silence. “Don’t be foolish, I was only jesting. You mustn’t be so sensitive....” Then, as they walked up the steps together she said smilingly, “If you say silly things like that, you shan’t come out with me again. But, seriously, Mrs. Rivington has been wanting to meet you for a long time. I think she fancies that if she gets to know you the portrait will come cheaper. But she is well able to pay, so don’t take any notice when she hints at her poverty of purse. She is a woman who would try and get a discount off her seat in heaven.”
“You will make time to come to the studio one day quite soon, won’t you?” he pleaded.
“I’ll see,” she said, as the door opened before them.
The maid came forward and slipped off her cloak. As she waited and pulled up her gloves, Claudia propounded a question to herself.
“He seems to care so much—I wonder if he is really sincere.”
When a woman stands and asks that question, the man has scored his first point. But Claudia thought the tricks were still all in her hand.