pronounced the American language--so at least it seemed to Francie--as
if it had been French.

After she had quitted the studio with Delia and Mr. Flack--her father on
this occasion not being of the party--the two young men, falling back on
their divan, broke into expressions of aesthetic rapture, gave it to
each other that the girl had qualities--oh but qualities and a charm of
line! They remained there an hour, studying these rare properties
through the smoke of their cigarettes. You would have gathered from
their conversation--though as regards much of it only perhaps with the
aid of a grammar and dictionary--that the young lady had been endowed
with plastic treasures, that is with physical graces, of the highest
order, of which she was evidently quite unconscious. Before this,
however, Mr. Waterlow had come to an understanding with his visitors--it
had been settled that Miss Francina should sit for him at his first hour
of leisure. Unfortunately that hour hovered before him as still rather
distant--he was unable to make a definite appointment. He had sitters on
his hands, he had at least three portraits to finish before going to
Spain. He adverted with bitterness to the journey to Spain--a little
excursion laid out precisely with his friend Probert for the last weeks
of the spring, the first of the southern summer, the time of the long
days and the real light. Gaston Probert re-echoed his regrets, for
though he had no business with Miss Francina, whose name he yet liked,
he also wanted to see her again. They half-agreed to give up Spain--they
had after all been there before--so that Waterlow might take the girl in
hand without delay, the moment he had knocked off his present work. This
amendment broke down indeed, for other considerations came up and the
artist resigned himself to the arrangement on which the young women had
quitted him: he thought it so characteristic of their nationality that
they should settle a matter of that sort for themselves. This was simply