She was in her coupé by this time, and he was obliged to close the door on her; but he kept his hand upon it.
"Since you are leaving us so soon and so cruelly, Madame, would you honour my own old chapel frescoes as you promised?—they might give you some ideas for your ball-room." Lady Hilda deigned to smile fairly and folly this time.
"Is that a satire or a profanity—or both together?"
"It is jealousy of Camille Odissôt! I will go to Paris and paint your frescoes, Madame, if you will let me; I can paint in fresco and in tempera; I was a student in the Academy of San Luca in my time."
His words were light, and his manner also, but his eyes had a language that made the Lady Hilda colour a little and look out of the other window of her coupé.
"I must first call upon Olga; I have promised," she answered, irrelevantly. "But I will join you at your palace in an hour; perhaps she will come with me; I should not like to leave,
