There stood a tall young woman, well muffled in a cape and bonnet, though it was not a cold day. Two older ladies with very sour expressions stood behind her. Eleanor Farnham scarcely gave Fred a look but deposited her street garments upon him, as if assuming he was a servant, and made her way straight to the studio. The other ladies did the same and followed on behind her like the carriages of a train.
He stared at the capes and bonnets heaped into his arms and then smiled and shrugged. Folding and draping them with his usual care and neatness, he put them all on a chair in the hallway and followed the ladies into the studio.
Henry had rushed around trying to tidy up the chaos that always reigned in his studio. He managed to find seats beneath a pile of exotic clothes which he kept fo
