"Quite pwomising," said the Adonis in the baggy coat, silent until now.
"Yes, he has blossomed all at once. He talks of going abroad."
"Bettah stay at home," said the young gentleman, languidly. "I've been thwough all the gallewies. It's always the same stowy,—always the same old humbugs to be admired,—always a doosid boah."
"One relief you must have had in the galleries," retorted Easelmann; "your all-round shirt-collar wouldn't choke you quite so much when your head was cocked back."
Adonis-in-bag adjusted his polished all-rounder with a delicately gloved finger, and declared that the painter was "a jol-ly fel-low."
The gentleman who had blushed a moment before, when the picture was criticized, was still within earshot; he now turned an angry glance upon the last speaker, and was about to cross the room, when Mr. Easelmann stopped him.
"With your permission, Miss Sandford," said the painter, nodding meaningly towards the person retreating.
"Certainly," replied the lady.
"Mr. Greenleaf," said Easelmann, "I wish you to know some friends of mine."
The gentleman so addressed turned and approached the party, and was presented to "Miss Sandford, Mr. Sandford, Mrs. Sandford, and Mr. Charles Sandford." Miss Sandford greeted him with her most fascinating smile; her brother shook his hand warmly; the other lady, a widowed sister-in-law, silently curtsied; while the younger brother inclined his head slightly, his collar not allowing any sudden movement. In a moment more the party were walking about the room, looking at the pictures.