though he by no means shared in Lionel's enthusiastic desire for her company. He thought she would be greatly in their way.
"Heaven bless you both!" answered Waife; "and she wants a holiday; she shall have it."
"I'd rather stay with you, Grandy; you'll be so lone."
"No, I wish to be out all to-morrow—the investment! I shall not be alone—making friends with our future companion, Sophy."
"And can do without me already?—heigh-ho!"
Vance. "So that's settled; good-by to you."
CHAPTER XIII.
The next day, perhaps with the idea of removing all scruple from Sophy's mind, Waife had already gone after his investment when the friends arrived. Sophy at first was dull and dispirited, but by degrees she brightened up; and when, the sitting over and the picture done (save such final touches as Vance reserved for solitary study), she was permitted to gaze at her own effigy, she burst into exclamations of frank delight. "Am I like that? is it possible? Oh, how beautiful! Mr. Merle, Mr. Merle, Mr. Merle!" and running out of the room before Vance could stop her, she returned with the Cobbler, followed, too, by a thin, gaunt girl, whom he pompously called his housekeeper, but who, in sober truth, was servant-of-all-work. Wife he had none—his horoscope, he said, having Saturn in square to the Seventh House, forbade him to venture upon matrimony. All gathered round the picture; all admired, and with justice—it was a chef-d'œuvre. Vance in his maturest day never painted more charmingly. The three pounds proved to be the best outlay of capital he had ever made. Pleased with his work, he was pleased even with that unsophisticated applause.
"You must have Mercury and Venus very strongly aspected," quoth the Cobbler; "and if you have the Dragon's Head in the Tenth House, you may count on being much talked of after you are dead."
"After I am dead!—sinister omen!" said Vance, discom-
