repeated.

"Yes," said the Count with emphasis. "For twenty years I
have devote myself to ze art."

"To what art, sir?" asked Rayel, in a tone suggesting doubt.

I was now thoroughly frightened at the serious turn of the
dialogue. Was this "Count" a pretender and one of the many
bogus noblemen of whom I had read? Rayel was sounding him,
that was quite evident. I saw now the mistake I had made in
bringing my cousin to such a place.

"Quel impudence!" exclaimed the insulted nobleman, under his
breath.

"Forgive me, sir," quickly answered Rayel, "I did not know
it was wrong to ask you."

"I wish you would paint my portrait, Mr. Lane," said the
young lady, who did not seem to appreciate the gravity of
the situation.

"That would be easy enough," he answered.

"Would it? Ah, but I fear you would find me too plain a
subject. I am not beautiful, you know, but if I wore my best
clothes you might think I would do."

For some time Miss Paddington continued to spin out threads