"Ah, too red, too red!" he rejoined.

"Her complexion," pointing to the Murillo, "is--more delicate." "Delicate?
Oh, it shall be delicate, monsieur; delicate as Sevres biscuit.

I am going to tone that down; I know all the secrets of my art.
And where will you allow us to send it to you?
Your address ?" "My address?
Oh yes!" And the gentleman drew a card from his pocket-book and wrote something upon it.

Then hesitating a moment he said, "If I don't like it when it it's finished, you know, I shall not be obliged to take it." The young lady seemed as good a guesser as himself.

"Oh, I am very sure that monsieur is not capricious," she said with a roguish smile.
"Capricious ?" And at this monsieur began to laugh.