portrait. She has done me on horseback. Oh, there it is! Isn't the horse good? I'm not quite so dumpy as that; and my nose isn't 'tip-tilted,' is it? That Frenchman who painted me five years ago said my features were classical. 'Vénus en petit,' he called me. Ha, ha! But, anyway, for a likeness on horseback, I think Bessie's very good. Don'u yon think he would look splendid in armour, Bessie? A sort of Sir Galahad! There is that fine suit in the hall; suppose we try to get him into that?"
Elizabeth was a little taken aback by this volubility. Certainly she desired nothing better than to paint Colonel Wybrowe's head; but she felt somehow as if the proposition should have come more gradually, and that the sitter should be allowed to express his readiness, if not his desire, to sit. She hesitated for a moment; and seeing that, he said with a smile—
"You are placing Miss Shaw in a painful predicament. Her politeness forbids her to say she had rather not. As to that armour," he added, laughing, "it wouldn't come near me. It is made for a man of five foot six!"
Then she said quickly, "Armour or not, of course I shall be glad to try to paint your head; but—I have never had so difficult a subject. My aunt, you see, is not satisfied with her portrait. You must not be vexed if I make a dreadful thing of yours."
"I shall not be vexed—whatever you do. Miss Shaw."
"But if it is only to be the head," struck in Mrs. Shaw, "I am bent on your trying on the breastplate and shoulder-piece. Never mind if they don't meet behind. It will look so much better than a stand-up collar and a tie."
