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 indifferent. Mrs. Lion Hunter was transformed in the twinkling of an eye into a most wise, entertaining, witty and agreeable person.

"The picture called Ogre's House"

"Brigand's House?" Edward suggested.

"How stupid of me!—the Brigand's House—is a sensation—but for my part I simply adored those three lovely young girls fading into the mists of the river."

Edward smiled gaily. "It was too hot to sleep," he explained, "so they all went for a swim."

"But where did you find such lovely models?"

At this point Mrs. Eaton, who had been drinking in the praise with immense satisfaction, broke into the conversation.

"Models!" she exclaimed. "Do you have to have models?"

"For the human form divine, mother?" said Edward. "Well, I should rather think so!"

"Do you mean to tell me," said Mrs. Eaton, and her horror was genuine, "that young women come to your studio and undress themselves?"

"Not unless I ask them to," said Edward demurely.

Mrs. Ludlow laughed nervously.

"I should think," said Mrs. Eaton, "that you could find plenty of other objects to paint."

"I could," said Edward patiently, "and do