do in it? Of course one can produce nothing but rubbish on such terms—without continuity or persistence, with just a few days here and there. I ought to be ashamed of myself, no doubt; but even my rubbish interests me. 'Guenille si l'on veut, ma guenille m'est chère.' But I'll go down to Harsh with you in a moment, Julia," Nick pursued: "that would do as well, if we could be quiet there, without people, without a creature; and I should really be perfectly content. You'd sit for me; it would be the occasion we've so often wanted and never found."
Mrs. Dallow shook her head slowly, with a smile that had a meaning for Nick. "Thank you, my dear; nothing would induce me to go to Harsh with you."
The young man looked at her. "What's the matter, whenever it's a question of anything of that sort? Are you afraid of me?" She pulled her hand quickly out of his, turning away from him; but he went on: "Stay with me here then, when everything is so right for it. We shall do beautifully—have the whole place, have the whole day to ourselves. Hang your engagements! Telegraph you won't come. We'll live at the studio—you'll sit to me every day. Now or never is our chance—when shall we have so good a one? Think how charming it will be! I'll make you wish awfully that I shall do something."
"I can't get out of Griffin—it's impossible," returned Mrs. Dallow, moving further away, with her back presented to him.
"Then you are afraid of me—simply?"
She turned quickly round, very pale. "Of course I am; you are welcome to know it."
