“But I am told that those models haven’t much character, Mr. Hastings, eh?” “A common mistake,” Guy returned coldly. “Ah!” said Mr. Graham. But Jack’s effusive politeness flattered him more than the stern reserve of Jack’s handsome, sulky friend; & Guy was left to himself, while the merchant & Egerton talked together. It was not until the former rose to go, that he was again drawn into the circle of conversation. “I hope we shall see you at our apartment, no. 2 via ____, Mr. Egerton. You—Mr. Hastings—you also, Sir. I shall be happy to introduce my wife & daughter. I shall have my little commission tomorrow, then? Good morning to you, gentlemen.” And Mr. Graham marched out with what (he flattered himself) was a ducal elegance of manner & carriage. When the door was shut, Guy relieved himself of, “I hate your confounded shopkeepers!” “Every man who buys my pictures is my brother,” exclaimed Jack, dramatically, “whatever be his station in life!” “Odd—because I never knew one of your brothers to do such an ingenuous thing!” observed Guy, gathering up his brushes. “Guy, my boy! You’re getting sarcastic.” “Very likely. I am going to the deuce by grande vitesse.” “Why don’t you stop at a station by the way?” said Egerton, rising with a yawn from his easel. “It would be a pity to reach your destination so soon.” “What does it matter?” returned Guy, bitterly, turning away to stare out of the window. “A good deal, my boy, to some people.” I might have thought so once,” said Guy very low. Jack was silent; he lighted his cigar & leaned back in a medieval armchair puffing meditatively. After a while he said, “Are you falling in love with Teresina?” Guy started. “No,” he said, “I don’t think I am falling in love with anybody. If I have any heart left, I haven’t enough for that. Poor little Teresina!” “Why do you pity her?” said Jack, sharply. “Because she is young &—I believe—sincere.” “Pity such virtues don’t last longer in persons of her class!” said Egerton.” “But you’ve got her in your head. Now, what are you going to do with her?” “Paint her.” Nonsense!” Jack jumped up & laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Look here, my boy,” he said, in his quick way, “since you left London with me last Autumn you have been doing your best to shew what I have always said—that there is nothing like a woman for ruining a man’s life. In short, you have been going rapidly to the dogs. Well; I am not a parson either, & I don’t care to preach. But, for Heaven’s sake, don’t give way one instant to another woman! If, as you say, this child is innocent & honest, leave her so.