not lived much with ladies, I fancy. But as a model he is invaluable. A splendid head for colour!"
"A sort of vulgar Mephistopheles. I suppose he will 'paint' well; but I should not like to do it."
"I am glad you were not called upon," he said, smiling, "because I mean to make a fine thing of him."
When Hatty was alone with her brother later in the day, she eyed him narrowly as she observed—
"Your Jew friend admires Elizabeth Shaw very much, I am sure."
"She does not return the compliment," he returned coolly.
"I thought her wonderfully patient with him, considering. Of course it was on your account, Ally. But I have known girls begin in that way and end by—by toleration."
"What are you driving at, my astute Hatty? You are not insulting Miss Shaw by supposing that for the value of Melchior's wealth she would ever marry him, if he asked her?"
She saw that her desire to rouse a little wholesome jealousy in his mind had carried her too far.
"No," she replied, taking off her pince-nez and wiping it, the more clearly to scrutinize Alaric's face; "only I think a man of that kind might presume upon her tolerance, and that, I am sure, you would be sorry for. I take back all I said yesterday, about wishing you to be intimate with him."
"You need not be afraid; I don't much like him. But until his portrait is finished I suppose he will be here every day, so we must make the best of him."
