"I had rather you made the poodle's," said the young girl. "Is it very
tiresome? I have spent half my life sitting for my photograph, in every
conceivable attitude and with every conceivable coiffure. I think I have
posed enough."

"My dear child," said Mrs. Light, "it may be one's duty to pose. But as
to my daughter's sitting to you, sir--to a young sculptor whom we don't
know--it is a matter that needs reflection. It is not a favor that 's to
be had for the mere asking."

"If I don't make her from life," said Roderick, with energy, "I will
make her from memory, and if the thing 's to be done, you had better
have it done as well as possible."

"Mamma hesitates," said Miss Light, "because she does n't know whether
you mean she shall pay you for the bust. I can assure you that she will
not pay you a sou."

"My darling, you forget yourself," said Mrs. Light, with an attempt at
majestic severity. "Of course," she added, in a moment, with a change of
note, "the bust would be my own property."

"Of course!" cried Roderick, impatiently.

"Dearest mother," interposed the young girl, "how can you carry a
marble bust about the world with you? Is it not enough to drag the poor
original?"

"My dear, you 're nonsensical!" cried Mrs. Light, almost angrily.