MRS. SYLVESTER.

You may well say so. She was sitting on a table drinking brandy and
soda as bold as brass. Of course he swore that he needed her for a
picture he was going to work on--and, I don't know, perhaps it was
true. Still considering what had been, her presence there was an
outrage, and I shall never forget the quarrel there was between Charles
and me. That was the last I have seen of Rosaline--she went flying.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

And was it the last that Mr. Sylvester has seen of her?

MRS. SYLVESTER.

So far as I know. But there is always the lurking, horrid doubt. You
know now why I am not the light-hearted girl you remember, and why I
distrust artists as a class.

_Pause_.

MRS. TEMPENNY (_meditatively_).

I don't see why you should distrust Mr. Tempenny because Mr. Sylvester
is not steady.

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Are you quite contented?