"I know I am a base, a perjured liar; but then I can't help it, I was born so. The studio door was opened at last; and when I got in, there was Atalanta, tools in hand, blushing all over, just as she is now, to her very toes and elbows, if we could only see them, and there were two big mirrors, between which she stood and worked and posed, and worked again. Did you ever hear of any one so vain? She had put her own little self from top to toe in the—the thing; and you were all stupid idiots not to know it."
"It is extraordinary; for now you have told me, I remember the Atalanta is the image of Miss Ruysdale. But remember that the face is turned away," rejoined Philip, wondering how he could have failed to recognize the lithe strong figure and averted head before him in the fleeting Atalanta of the bas-relief.
"And now that I have betrayed my friend for you, let us arrange the particulars of my bribe. When shall we go? and can I ever persuade my dear Margaret to forgive this outrage to our friendship and share the fruits of my crime?"
Miss Ruysdale did not laugh; a breach of confidence, even in so small a matter, seemed to her too serious a thing to jest about. She was of that rather small class of people to whom there is no satisfaction in betraying a secret or giving a new and startling piece of information. Nine
