"Them two angels will never do no wrong, anyhow," was Mrs.Tribb's reflection, as she closed the door and left the pair together.

"But I do hope as that black-faced husband won't ever learn.

He's as jealous as Cain, and I don't want Master Noel to be no Abel!" If Mrs.Tribb, instead of going to the kitchen, which she did, had gone out of the front door, she would have found Chaldea lying full length amongst the flowers under the large window of the studio.

This was slightly open, and the girl could hear every word that was spoken, while so swiftly and cleverly had she gained her point of vantage, that those within never for one moment suspected her presence.

If they had, they would assuredly have kept better guard over their tongues, for the conversation was of the most private nature, and did not tend to soothe the eavesdropper's jealousy.
Lambert was so absorbed in his painting--he was working at the Esmeralda-Quasimodo picture--that he scarcely heard the studio door open, and it was only when Mrs.Tribb's shrill voice announced the name of his visitor, that he woke to the surprising fact that the woman he loved was within a few feet of him.