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The old actress busied herself in dispensing this refreshment, an hospitable attention to her English visitors, and under cover of the diversion thus obtained, while the others talked together, Sherringham put her the question: "Well, is there anything in my young friend?" "Nothing I can see. She's loud and coarse." "She's very much afraid. You must allow for that."
Rooth, now crossed the room to them, and the girl went on in the same tone: "Mamma dear, he's the best friend we've ever had he's a great deal nicer than I thought." "So are you, mademoiselle," said Peter Sherringham. "Oh, I trust Mr. Sherringham I trust him infinitely," Mrs. Rooth returned, covering him with her mild, respectable, wheedling eyes.
"So much the better," Sherringham duly answered; but he asked no questions and was glad to let the preceptress and the pupil fight it out together. He wanted for the moment to know as little as possible about their ways together: he had been over-dosed with that knowledge while attending at their second interview.
"You don't like it!" his hostess laughed. "Why should it be a thing to be enthusiastic about?" "Well, he's charming and I trust him." "So do I," said Sherringham. "They've gone to see Madame Carré." "She has come back then?" "She was expected back last week. Miriam wants to show her how she has improved." "And has she improved?" "How can I tell with my mother's heart?" asked Mrs. Rooth.
He sent out a telegram to Balaklava Place requesting his beautiful sitter by no manner of means to fail him. When his servant came back it was to usher into the studio Peter Sherringham, whom the man had apparently found at the door.
From the moment I made out, at my high-perched west window, my lucky title, that is from the moment Miriam Rooth herself had given it me, so this young woman had given me with it her own position in the book, and so that in turn had given me my precious unity, to which no more than Miriam was either Nick Dormer or Peter Sherringham to be sacrificed.
Nash continued to abound in descriptive suppositions "It must be on the banks of the Manzanares or the Guadalquivir" Peter Sherringham, whose imagination had seemingly been kindled by the sketch of Miriam Rooth, took up the argument and reminded him that he had a short time before assigned a low place to the dramatic art and had not yet answered the question as to whether he believed in the theatre.
"Why you say she's a terrible creature," Peter completed with his eyes on the painted face. "Oh anything for art!" Biddy smiled. "Well, at seven o'clock then." And Sherringham departed, leaving the girl alone with the Tragic Muse and feeling with a quickened rush the beauty of that young woman as well as, all freshly, the peculiar possibilities of Nick.
How can it be so poor, so limited a form?" "Upon my honour it strikes me as rich and various! Do you think it's a poor and limited form, Nick?" Sherringham added, appealing to his kinsman. "I think whatever Nash thinks. I've no opinion to-day but his."
"I know you both so little." But she presented them with a great stately air to each other, and the two men shook hands while Madame Carré observed them. "Tiens! you gentlemen meet here for the first time? You do right to become friends that's the best thing. Live together in peace and mutual confidence. C'est de beaucoup le plus sage." "Certainly, for yoke-fellows," said Sherringham.
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