of a portrait, near the close of the season. 'A very daring thing to
attempt,' Miss Paynham said, when he was comparing her first outlines and
the beautiful breathing features. 'Even if one gets the face, the lips
will seem speechless, to those who know her.'

'If they have no recollection,' said Dacier.

'I mean, the endeavour should be to represent them at the moment of
speaking.'

'Put it into the eyes.' He looked at the eyes.

She looked at the mouth. 'But it is the mouth, more than the eyes.'

He looked at the face. 'Where there is character, you have only to study
it to be sure of a likeness.'

'That is the task, with one who utters jewels, Mr. Dacier.'

'Bright wit, I fear, is above the powers of your art.'

'Still I feel it could be done. See--now--that!'

Diana's lips had opened to say: 'Confess me a model model: I am dissected
while I sit for portrayal. I must be for a moment like the frog of the
two countrymen who were disputing as to the manner of his death, when he
stretched to yawn, upon which they agreed that he had defeated the truth
for both of them. I am not quite inanimate.'

'Irish countrymen,' said Dacier.