“All right; but I'm not going to do it, you know--spoil your career, sir. You just wait,” she continued dramatically. “The minute your arm gets so you can paint, I myself shall conduct you to your studio, thrust the brushes into your hand, fill your palette with all the colors of the rainbow, and order you to paint, my lord, paint! But--until then I'm going to have you all I like,” she finished, with a complete change of manner, nestling into the ready curve of his good left arm. “You witch!” laughed the man, fondly. “Why, Billy, you couldn't hinder me. You'll _be_ my inspiration, dear, instead of slaying it. You'll see. _This_ time Marguerite Winthrop's portrait is going to be a success.” Billy turned quickly. “Then you are--that is, you haven't--I mean, you're going to--paint it?” “I just am,” avowed the artist. “And this time it'll be a success, too, with you to help.” Billy drew in her breath tremulously. “I didn't know but you'd already started it,” she faltered. He shook his head. “No. After the other one failed, and Mr. Winthrop asked me to try again, I couldn't _then_. I was so troubled over you. That's the time you did hinder me,” he smiled. “Then came your note breaking the engagement. Of course I knew too much to attempt a thing like that portrait then. But now--_now_--!” The pause and the emphasis were eloquent. “Of course, _now_,” nodded Billy, brightly, but a little feverishly. “And when do you begin?” “Not till January. Miss Winthrop won't be back till then. I saw J. G. last week, and I told him I'd accept his offer to try again.” “What did he say?” “He gave my left hand a big grip and said: 'Good!--and you'll win out this time.'” “Of course you will,” nodded Billy, again, though still a little feverishly. “And this time I sha'n't mind a bit if you do stay to luncheon, and break engagements with me, sir,” she went on, tilting her chin archly, “for I shall know it's the portrait and not the sitter that's really keeping you. Oh, you'll see what a fine artist's wife I'll make!” “The very best,” declared Bertram so ardently that Billy blushed, and shook her head in reproof. “Nonsense! I wasn't fishing. I didn't mean it that way,” she protested. Then, as he tried to catch her, she laughed and danced teasingly out of his reach.