'Here you are at last, naughty man!' she cried, giving Earle both her hands at once, to his no small embarrassment, as he did not know what to do with them, and would gladly have passed one on to Roberts, who was trying to hide a smile. 'What have you to say for yourself? I am very, very angry with you!'
'Indeed! I am deeply grieved! What have I done now, Mrs De Lacy?'
'Need you ask? Pray, how long is it since you were in Pembroke Terrace, sir?'
'You must really forgive me. I have been very much pushed with finishing a commission picture.'
'Well I will on two conditions, grant you pardon.'
'Pray name them.'
'One is that you dine with us to-morrow; to meet—but I won't tell you whom.'
'Is that a punishment? It is a very merciful one.'
'Ah, you have not heard the second condition. Mr De Lacy is foolish enough to want to have a portrait of my poor faded face, and I only agreed on condition that you painted it.'
It was as much as Earle could do to keep up an expression of complacency. He could not refuse; but it was no light penance to him—who disliked mere portrait-painting at the best—to be condemned to make a picture of Mrs De Lacy's little foolish face. However, he consented, as he could not well get out of it.