"Oh, I take it you know very well that we are looking for a husband,
and that none but tremendous swells need apply. Surely, before these
gentlemen, mamma, I may speak freely; they are disinterested. Mr. Mallet
won't do, because, though he 's rich, he 's not rich enough. Mamma made
that discovery the day after we went to see you, moved to it by the
promising look of your furniture. I hope she was right, eh? Unless you
have millions, you know, you have no chance."

"I feel like a beggar," said Rowland.

"Oh, some better girl than I will decide some day, after mature
reflection, that on the whole you have enough. Mr. Hudson, of course, is
nowhere; he has nothing but his genius and his beaux yeux."

Roderick had stood looking at Christina intently while she delivered
herself, softly and slowly, of this surprising nonsense. When she had
finished, she turned and looked at him; their eyes met, and he blushed
a little. "Let me model you, and he who can may marry you!" he said,
abruptly.

Mrs. Light, while her daughter talked, had been adding a few touches to
her coiffure. "She is not so silly as you might suppose," she said to
Rowland, with dignity. "If you will give me your arm, we will go and
look at the bust."

"Does that represent a silly girl?" Christina demanded, when they stood
before it.

Rowland transferred his glance several times from the portrait to the