" In the end he wrote a single
line without any formality whatever, and when Elfrida
opened it an hour later she read:
"Will you let me paint your portrait for the Academy?
"JOHN-KENDAL.
"P.S.--Or any other exhibition you may prefer."
The last line was a stroke of policy. "She abhors Burlington
House," he had reflected.
The answer came next day, and he tore it open with rapid
fingers. "I can't think why--but if you wish it, yes.
But why not for the Academy, since you are disposed to
do me that honor?"
"Characteristic," thought Kendal grimly, as he tore up
the note. "She can't think why. But I'm glad the Academy
doesn't stick in her pretty throat--I was afraid it
would. It's the potent influence of the Private View."
He wrote immediately in joyful gratitude to make an
appointment for the next day, went to work vigorously
about his preparations, and when he had finished smoked
a series of pipes to calm the turbulence of his
anticipations. As a neighboring clock struck five he put
on his coat. Janet must know about this new idea of his;
he longed to tell her, to talk about it over the
old-fashioned Spode cup of tea she would give him--Janet
was a connoisseur in tea.
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