* * * * *
The proof-sheets of The Gentle Art, Whistler version, had just arrived as Mr. Keppel called. "Read them aloud," he commanded, "so I can hear how it sounds."
Mr. Keppel started in, but his elocution was not satisfactory.
"Stop!" Whistler cried. "You are murdering it! Let me read it to you!"
He read about two hours to his own keen delight, but was finally interrupted by a servant announcing, "Lady ——."
"Where is she?" asked the artist.
"In her carriage at the door."
He went on reading until Mr. Keppel suggested that he had forgotten the lady.
"Oh," he said, carelessly, "let her wait! I'm mobbed with these people."
After another quarter-hour he condescended to go down and greet her shivering ladyship.