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And one of these next days it'll be borne in on your friend that she's the girl of his life and when he meets her again he'll get her to see it his way. Don't you spoil the day's fishing." Vernon laughed. "You have all the imagination of the greatest nation in the world, Miss Voscoe," he said. "Thank you. These straight talks to young men are the salt of life. Good-bye."
Betty furiously resented the blush that hotly covered neck, ears and face. "Here you are!" cried Miss Voscoe. She was kind: she gave but one fleet glance at the blush and, linking her arm in Betty's, led her round the room. Betty heard her name and other names. People were being introduced to her. She heard: "Pleased to know you, " "Pleased to make your acquaintance, " "Delighted to meet you "
Miss Voscoe knew nothing. Guessed Miss Desmond knew her own business best. "But she's so young," said Vernon; "anything might have happened to her." "I reckon she's safe enough where she is," said Miss Voscoe with intention. "But haven't you any idea why she's gone?" he asked, not at all expecting any answer but "Not the least."
Country-bred Betty, braced by the straightforward directness of Miss Voscoe, and full of the nervous energy engendered by a half-understood trouble, had routed, for a moment, the woman of the world. But only for a moment. Then Lady St. Craye, unable to estimate the gain or loss of the encounter, pulled herself together to make good her retreat. "Yes," she said, with her charming smile.
A murmur of dissent from the others drove him back into shy silence. "No amateur models in this Academy," said Miss Voscoe. "Oh, we'll make the time-honoured institutions sit up with the work we'll do. Let's all pledge ourselves to send in to the Salon or anyway to the Independants! What we're suffering from in this quarter's git-up-and-git. Why should we be contented to be nobody?"
"The good God be blessed for intrigues! Without intrigues what would become of us poor concierges?" For Vernon Paris was empty the spring sunshine positively distasteful. He did what he could; he enquired at the Gare St. Lazare, describing Betty with careful detail that brought smiles to the lips of the employes. He would not call on Miss Voscoe.
I'm sorry, but I've lost my cue, I think. Where were we at losing hearts, wasn't it?" "No," said the downright girl, "I didn't mean that. I mean will you come and criticise our drawings?" "Fiddle," said Miss Voscoe luminously. "Mr. Vernon's too big for that." "Oh, well," said Vernon, "if you don't think I should be competent!" "You don't mean to say you would?"
Miss Voscoe, the American, stared when she put the question about a pair who had just left the restaurant together with the announcement that they were off to the Musee Cluny for the afternoon. "Engaged?" Not that I know of. Why should they be?" she said in a tone that convicted Betty of a social lapse in the putting of the question. Yet she defended herself.
I see it written on your speaking brow that you took the mathematical wranglership at Oxford College." "Four francs seventy," said Temple through the shout of laughter. "Have I said something comme il ne faut pas?" said Miss Voscoe. "You couldn't," said Vernon: "every word leaves your lips without a stain upon its character." "Won't you let us join?" asked an Irish student.
"You needn't criticise them all at once," said a large girl from Minneapolis, "nor yet all in the gaudy eye of heaven. We'll screen off a corner for our Professor sort of confessional business. You sit there and we'll go to you one by one with our sins in our hand." "That would scare him some I surmise," said Miss Voscoe. "Not at all," said Temple, a little nettled, he hardly knew why.
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