"You've got such a pretty ear!" she remarked presently, as she touched its outermost rim with a hair line, cocking her head to one side, the while, in a very professional manner; "Did you ever notice what a pretty ear you have?"
"Better be careful how you talk about it," Eleanor laughed, "for fear it should begin to burn!"
The artist looked in some trepidation at the feature in question, but its soft hue did not deepen. She took the precaution, however, to change the subject; to one which she often chose, indeed, for the sake of the animation it brought into the pretty face of her model. Eleanor's "repose" sometimes bothered her.
"What shall you do the first day in Paris?" Madge asked.
"Good gracious! You won't write to me before you have seen the Louvre!"
"I shall write to you the very first minute. And then I shall write again that same evening, and tell you whether there really is a Louvre! If there shouldn't be one, you know, I shouldn't feel so like a pig in being there without you!"
"You needn't feel like a pig, as far as that goes," said Madge. "I couldn't have gone to Paris if I had won the prize."
"Well, I had it out with Father this morning. He says it's not a mere matter of money; that if he and Mother thought well of my going, they could manage it."
"O Madge! Can't you make them think well of it?"
"I'm afraid not. Father never did really believe in my going in for art, and I think he believes in it less now than he ever did. He says I've been at it for three years, and I haven't painted a pretty picture yet. And he says he doesn't see what good it's going to do me in after-life; that if I marry I sha'n't keep it up, and there wouldn't be any good in my trying to;--which is, of course a mistake, only I can't make him believe that it is,--and he says that if I don't marry, I've got to earn my living sooner or later."
"Why, but that's just it, Madge! You're going to be able to earn your living! You're sure to!"
But Madge was again engrossed in her work. The afternoon would soon draw to a close, and if she wished to carry out her designs upon that ear it behooved her to stop talking. Though her little picture was an oval of three inches by four, it had cost her more strokes than any canvas of ten times the size had ever done. And Eleanor was to sail in a fortnight!