were not inclined for work; idleness is contagious, and Mildred
experienced much difficulty in remaining at her easel.

In the evenings her only distraction was to go for a drive with Mrs.
Fargus. But too often Mrs. Fargus could not leave her husband, and
these evenings Mildred spent in reading or in writing letters. The
dullness of her life and the narrowness and aridity of her
acquaintance induced her to write very often to Ralph, and depression
of spirits often tempted her to express herself more affectionately
than she would have done in wider and pleasanter circumstances. She
once spoke of the pleasure it would give her to see him, she said that
she would like to see him walk into the studio. But when he took her
at her word and she saw him draw aside the curtain and look in, a
cloud of annoyance gathered on her face. But she easily assumed her
pretty mysterious smile and said:

'When did you arrive?'

'Only this morning. You said you'd like to see me. I had to come.... I
hope you are not angry.'

Then noticing that the girl next them was an English girl, Ralph spoke
about Mildred's drawing. She did not like him to see it, but he asked
her for the charcoal and said if she would give him her place he would
see if he could find out what was wrong; he did not think she had got
enough movement into the figure.

'Ah, that's what the professor says when he comes round _toujours un
peu froid comme mouvement._ I can get the proportions; it is the
movement that bothers me.'