Her thoughts ran excitedly to the distant moors, and that magnificent
lady, with her circle of distinguished persons, holiday-making
statesmen, peers, diplomats, writers, and the like. Here was a humbler
scene! But Doris's fancy at once divined a score of links between it and
the high comedy yonder.

Meanwhile, at the name of Dunstable, the girl accountant in the distance
had also moved sharply, so as to look at the young man. But in the
bustle of Madame Vavasour's entrance, and her passage to the sitter's
chair, the girl's gesture passed unnoticed.

"I'm just worn out, Maestro!" said the model languidly, uplifting a
pair of tragic eyes to the artist. "I sat up half the night writing. I
had a subject which tormented me. But I have done something _splendid_!
Isn't it splendid, Herbert?"

"Ripping!" said the young man, grinning widely.

"Sit down!" said Madame, with a change of tone. And the youth sat down,
on the very low chair to which she pointed him, doing his best to
dispose of his long legs.

"Give me the dog!" she commanded. "You have no idea how to hold
him--poor lamb!"

The dog was handed to her; she took off her enormous hat with many sighs
of fatigue, and then, with the dog on her lap, asked how she was to sit.
Bentley explained that he wished to make a few preliminary sketches of
her head and bust, and proceeded to pose her. She accepted his