companion suffered little by the juxtaposition. Presently he came over and joined her again, and she said to him: "I wonder if that is what your cousin had in his mind."
"My cousin?"
"What was his name? Mr. Dormer; that first day at Madame Carré's. He offered to paint my portrait."
"I remember. I put him up to it."
"Was he thinking of this?"
"I don't think he has ever seen it. I dare say I was."
"Well, when we go to London he must do it," said Miriam.
"Oh, there's no hurry," Sherringham replied.
"Don't you want my picture?" asked the girl, with one of her successful touches.
"I'm not sure I want it from you. I don't know quite what he'd make of you."
"He looked so clever—I liked him. I saw him again at your party."
"He's a dear fellow; but what is one to say of a painter who goes for his inspiration to the House of Commons?"
"To the House of Commons?"
"He has lately got himself elected."
"Dear me, what a pity! I wanted to sit for him; but perhaps he won't have me, as I'm not a member of Parliament."
"It's my sister, rather, who has got him in."
"Your sister who was at your house that day? What has she to do with it?"
"Why, she's his cousin, just as I am. And in addition," Sherringham went on, "she's to be married to him."
