Involuntarily Lord Findon glanced across the room, at the _decollete_ shoulders and buxom good looks of his wife.

When Eugenie was in the house the second Lady Findon never seemed to him well dressed.
When Fenwick and Cuningham had departed--Fenwick in a glow of grateful good-humour, expressing himself effusively to his host--Madame de Pastourelles approached her father, smiling.
'That youth has asked me to sit to him.' 'The audacious rascal!' cried Lord Findon, fuming.

'He has never seen you before--and, besides, how does any one know what he can do ?' 'Why, you said yourself his picture was remarkable.' 'So it is.

But what's one picture?
What do you think, Welby ?' he said, impulsively addressing the man beside him.

'Wasn't it like his impudence ?' Welby smiled.
'Like Eugenie's kindness! It was rather charming to see his look when she said "Yes"!' 'You said "_Yes_"!' Lord Findon stared at her.
'Come with me and see what he can do in a morning.' She laid a quieting hand on her father's arm.