“Nothing, sir. I hate you strongly. If these were the days of Lucretia Borgia, without compunction I would have you killed. The world can do without you.” “And yet,” said he, softly, as though consoled by the thought, “I have given up all for you.” “I have seen nothing that you have done,” she said, sternly, “and more, I ask nothing of you, save that you walk your way, and leave me in peace to go mine.” “You know, Ouida,” said the man of strength, “that I, too, am ambitious; that men and women showered upon me their plaudits; that I had won a strong place in this great city. I have given up my church!” She started in breathless amazement! “Sacrificed your wondrous future, and for me?” And simply he said: “The price of my sin to you.” Then a deeper silence than ever before fell upon these two, and again there was no speech between them. “Now,” at length, he said, “I am ready to be sent forth with your cruel scorn, following me even to the end of time.” “I cannot bid you go thus,” she said, moved to pity. “Does the world know of this?” “Of the resignation, yes; of the reason, no.” “Then I abjure you, reveal nothing. Leave me!” she cried. “And may I come again?” eagerly he pleaded. “Yes,” she said, the power of resistance gone, “when I have had time to think.” He left with a sense of mighty triumph in his soul. CHAPTER XII. OUIDA PROPOSES MARRIAGE. Even the preacher’s passion, the knowledge of his awful sacrifice, did not rob the artist of her inspiration for work. Proceeding to the studio, filled with treasures of brush and mallet, she found Paul, the model, and Milton, the student. “Any commands for me,” said Milton, with deference and respect. “Yes,” said Ouida, “you may assist in arranging the pose.” Milton, for a few moments, attempts to place the model in the attitude, consistent with the conception of Ouida. “Ah,” reflected Ouida, aloud, “if I can but tonight imprint on stone the image that long has haunted me, I’ll wring from men the unwilling confession that truly in my veins flows the blood of Michael Angelo.” Her unconscious talk was interrupted by Paul, who almost sullenly said: “I do not care to work tonight.” “Hush!” said Ouida, “breathe not. I would not have had you fail me tonight for a brace of kingdoms.” She then crosses over to where Paul and Milton stood, saying to the latter: “Nay, not thus. Let him stand and look as though with mighty power he bears the weighty earth upon his massive shoulders. There, that is better. Go. Leave me, Milton; I would be alone with him.”