"Unfortunately she's out of town."
Miriam looked at him with a grand profundity. "Does she leave you alone like that?"
"She thought I should like it—I should be more free to paint. You see I am."
"Yes, perhaps it's good for me. Have you got her portrait?" Miriam asked.
"She doesn't like me to paint her."
"Really? Perhaps then she won't like you to paint me."
"That's why I want to be quick," laughed Nick.
"Before she knows it?"
"She'll know it to-morrow. I shall write to her."
Miriam gave him another of her special looks; then she said: "I see; you're afraid of her." And she added, "Mention my name: they'll give you the box at the theatre."
Whether or no Nick were afraid of Mrs. Dallow, he still protested against receiving this bounty from the hands of Miss Rooth—repeated that he would rather take a stall according to his wont and pay for it. This led her to declare with a sudden flicker of passion that if he didn't do as she wished she would never sit to him again.
"Ah then, you have me," returned Nick. "Only I don't see why you should give me so many things."
"What in the world have I given you?"
"Why, an idea." And Nick looked at his picture a little ruefully. "I don't mean to say I haven't let it fall and smashed it."
"Ah, an idea—that is a great thing for people in our line. But you'll see me much better from the box, and I'll send you
