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“I wish you would occasionally be serious,” interrupted Jasper half impatiently. “Of course we should have preferred a man in the studio, but I don’t see why you and Dan need be so certain that a woman’s advent will interfere with us. Do the others know?”

“Lord, no, my child,” said Barnabas. “It would take an earthquake to induce the other three to put nose beyond door or eye to window before one o’clock. If Michael isn’t at work on an illustration of a starved child, he’ll be writing an essay on ‘Humour—Some more of its more cynical aspects.’ Alan will be painting a burning cross in the centre of a crimson rose, and would regard the smallest interruption as the highest form of sacrilege, and Paul will be doing such genuine good work that it would be sacrilege to interrupt him.”

There was a moment’s silence. Then Jasper spoke in the tone of one who has been giving a subject close consideration.

“You know, I don’t think we ought to let the fact that a woman has taken the studio arouse feelings of animosity in us towards her. She is bound to have a studio somewhere if she wants to paint, and why not among us? I think we should do our best to make her welcome.”