When they did meet, half an hour later, in Hatty's room—she was lying on the sofa, and better able to talk to-night—he purposely gave Elizabeth an opening by mentioning Melchior's departure the following evening for Paris.
"He wants me to paint a frieze for his dining-room there."
"Really?" cried Hatty, raising her head from the pillow, with excitement. "I am so glad!"
"I have not decided whether I shall accept the commission. What should you do, in my place, Miss Shaw?"
She had hoped the two men would not meet again after to-morrow for a long time; and now this would inevitably bring them much together. But she could only say, after a moment's hesitation, "I suppose it would depend on whether I cared for the subject proposed."
"Oh! the subject is well enough—'The Abundance of the Earth and of the Sea.' It is the object I don't care about."
His sister threw up her hands impatiently. "What nonsense, Ally! Because it is for a dining-room?"
"For his dining-room. He wants it to be a fresco. That means my being in his house for weeks—perhaps months."
"Well? What then? He will be at his business all day. You will probably never see him from one week's end to the other. Such an offer as this does not come to an artist every day. And you who so often say———"
"I know. Don't get excited, Hatty. I ought to be glad to get the order; but, somehow, I am not. I suppose I must give him an answer to-morrow."
