CHAPTER LXIV.
DIANA.
"Good-morning, Miss Hope." "Good-morning, Mr.Merlin." He bowed and seated himself, and the conversation seemed to have terminated.

Hope Wayne was embroidering.

The moment she perceived that there was silence she found it very hard to break it.
"Are you busy now ?" said she.
"Very busy." "As long as men and women are vain, so long your profession will flourish, I suppose," she replied, lifting her eyes and smiling.
"I like it because it tells the truth," replied Arthur, crushing his hat.
"It omitted Alexander's wry neck," said Hope.
"It put in Cromwell's pimple," answered Arthur.
They both smiled.
"However, that is not the kind of truth I mean--I mean poetic truth.
Michael Angelo's Last Judgment shows the whole Catholic Church." Hope Wayne felt relieved, and looked interested.

She did not feel so much afraid of the silence, now that Arthur seemed entering upon a disquisition.

But he stopped and said, "I've painted a picture." "Full of poetic truth, I suppose," rejoined Hope, still smiling.
"I've come to ask you to go and see that for yourself." "Now ?" "Now." She laid aside her embroidery, and in a little while they had reached his studio.