Katherine, who had promised to sit to me for her portrait, kept putting me off from day to day, and it was nearly a week later when I made my first attempt. By some happy chance on that particular afternoon I had found her alone, for as a rule Gerald was there, and even now it was almost as if he were with us, since she began at once to talk about him. “You must take off your hat,” I said, ignoring her remarks. She obeyed me, and I began to draw in my outline. “Gerald likes you,” she said. “I wish you would be friends with him.” “But I am friends with him,” I answered, abstractedly. “Not very much. You would rather he was not with us.” “That doesn’t mean I’m not friends with him.” “He has so few friends,” she went on, still clinging to the subject. “Has he? I’m afraid, no matter how much I tried, we could never really be chums.” “Why?” “I don’t understand him.” “Why don’t you understand him?” “I suppose because I’m stupid. Besides, what I do understand I don’t greatly like.” She was not offended; she simply asked, “What is the matter with him?” I feared I had been horribly rude, but the words had slipped out before I could check them. “There is nothing the matter with him,” I answered hastily. “I wasn’t thinking of what I was saying. It is only that――that we’re not suited to each other: we’re too different. At all events, it is of very little importance, seeing that you’re going away in a few days.” “We’ll be back again next year, I expect. Aunt Clara wants me to come. _She_ isn’t very friendly to Gerald either.” “Oh, you only fancy that; of course she is. And there’s Miss Dick, who worships the very ground he walks on.” “Miss Dick’s too silly for anything.” “There you are! And yet you want me to worship him too!” “I don’t want anything of the kind; and you know that. But of course if you don’t like him I can’t make you. I think that night――the night we went with you to your meeting――has something to do with it.” “Oh that!” I answered lightly. It seemed to me a long time ago, though there was a yellow bruise still visible above my left eyebrow. I finished my outline and began to paint. The other picture had been painted indoors, I reflected. I don’t know what made me think of it, but I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It kept floating between me and my work, and I seemed to see it quite as clearly as I saw Katherine herself. Still I persevered, though my progress was slow and from the beginning unsatisfactory. I talked to Katherine, or rather I replied to her, for what she said penetrated only the fringe of my consciousness. She had brought a book out with her, and by and by she began to read aloud, but I have no idea what it was she read. I painted away most diligently, yet all the time I couldn’t get rid of a foolish impression that I was being watched. And this fancy, utterly absurd if you like, took possession of me, grew stronger and stronger, till it seemed to tremble on the verge of reality.