"Mrs. Greyson," Rangely answered. "I used to know her before she went
to Rome."

"Is she clever?" demanded Miss Mott, with a sort of girlish
imperiousness which became her very well. "I can't have a statue put up
unless it is very good indeed."

"She might take Miss Mott as a model," Mr. Hubbard suggested, smiling.

"For America? Oh, I am too little, and altogether too civilized. I'd do
better for a model of Monaco, thank you."

"There is always a good deal of chance about you," Rangely said in her
ear, as Mr. Staggchase spoke to Mr. Hubbard and drew his attention
away.

Mr. Staggchase was a thin, wintry man, looking, as Fenton once said,
like the typical Yankee spoiled by civilization. He had always in a
scene of this sort the air of being somewhat out of place, but of
having brought his business with him, so that he was neither idle nor
bored. It was upon business that he now spoke to Hubbard.

"Did you see Lincoln to-day?" he asked. "He has got an ultimatum from
those parties. They will sell all their rights for $70,000."

"For $70,000," repeated Mr. Hubbard, thoughtfully. "We can afford to
give that if we are sure about the road; but I don't know that we are.
If Irons gets hold of any hint of what we are doing he can upset the
whole thing."