"Is he the artist of those sweet designs?" asked Sister Mena.

"Did we not tell you?"

"And now he is going to execute them? How delicious!"

"I trust so! We must see him again. We have not heard of Edie and
Nellie, nor any one."

"He will call on you?" said Sister Mena.

"I do not think so," said Paula. "At least his father is really an
artist, but he is drawing-master at the High School, and Hubert works
for this firm. They are not what you call in society, and our sister
is all for getting in with Lady Merrifield and General Mohun and all
the swells, so it would never do for him to call."

"She would first be stiff and stuck up," said Vera, "and I could not
stand that."

"I thought she was so kind," said Mena.

"You don't understand," said Vera. "She would be kind to a workman
in a fever; but this sort--oh, no."

"To be on an equality with the man painting the church?" said Paula.
"No, indeed! not if he were Fra Angelico and Ary Scheffer and
Michelangelo rolled into one."

At that moment the subject referred to in that mighty conglomeration