THE TROUSSEAU This the first time these two had each other at large, was clearly not a comfortable event for either of them.

The girl blushed, and hastily got off her seat.

Hilary, who raised his hat and frowned, sat down on it.
"Don't get up," he said; "I want to talk to you." The little model obediently resumed her seat.

A silence followed.
She had on the old brown skirt and knitted jersey, the old blue-green tam-o'-shanter cap, and there were marks of weariness beneath her eyes.
At last Hilary remarked: "How are you getting on ?" The little model looked at her feet.
"Pretty well, thank you, Mr.Dallison." "I came to see you yesterday." She slid a look at him which might have meant nothing or meant much, so perfect its shy stolidity.
"I was out," she said, "sitting to Miss Boyle." "So you have some work ?" "It's finished now." "Then you're only getting the two shillings a day from Mr.Stone ?" She nodded.
"H'm!" The unexpected fervour of this grunt seemed to animate the little model.
"Three and sixpence for my rent, and breakfast costs threepence nearly--only bread-and-butter--that's five and two; and washing's always at least tenpence--that's six; and little things last week was a shilling--even when I don't take buses--seven; that leaves five shillings for my dinners.

Mr.Stone always gives me tea.