"She is a little conceited about it after all," said that unmarried
lady. "If poor Mr. O'Brien had not shown so much premature anxiety
with reference to that little journey to Naples, things might have
gone quietly after all."

But the unmarried lady was wrong in her judgment. Mrs. Talboys was
proud and conceited in the matter,--but not proud of having excited
the admiration of her Irish lover. She was proud of her own
subsequent conduct, and gave herself credit for coming out strongly
as a noble-minded matron. "I believe she thinks," said Mrs.
Mackinnon, "that her virtue is quite Spartan and unique; and if she
remains in Rome she'll boast of it through the whole winter."

"If she does, she may be certain that O'Brien will do the same,"
said Mackinnon. "And in spite of his having fled from the field, it
is upon the cards that he may get the best of it. Mrs. Talboys is a
very excellent woman. She has proved her excellence beyond a doubt.
But, nevertheless, she is susceptible of ridicule."

We all felt a little anxiety to hear O'Brien's account of the
matter, and after having deposited the ladies at their homes,
Mackinnon and I went off to his lodgings. At first he was denied to
us, but after awhile we got his servant to acknowledge that he was
at home, and then we made our way up to his studio. We found him
seated behind a half-formed model, or rather a mere lump of clay
punched into something resembling the shape of a head, with a pipe
in his mouth and a bit of stick in his hand. He was pretending to
work, though we both knew that it was out of the question that he
should do anything in his present frame of mind.