"I hope you'll have the busiest, happiest sort of winter," she said, in the charming, friendly way which was naturally her own. "So busy and so happy you'll forget this long, trying time of waiting to be well. Surely, the rest--and Dr. Burns--have done the work. When you see the portrait I hope it will show you, better than looking at yourself in any mirror, what good has been done." "Thank you. I know a great change has been wrought, somehow, thanks to a man who insisted on having his own way when I didn't want to let him. You expect to stay in this cottage all winter?" "All winter, and all spring. Imagine us by a splendid fire in this good fireplace." "I hope it won't smoke on windy days." Leaver looked doubtfully at it. "It strikes me as better photographic material than as practical defence against the cold." "I shall demonstrate that it is entirely practical. And Granny's little feet will seldom touch the floor. I have a beautiful foot-warmer for her, which will keep her snug as comfort." "I know you have a strong courage, and will face any discomfort bravely." His eyes were dwelling upon her face, noting each outline, as if he meant to take the memory of it with him. "All the courage in the world. What would life be without it? With it, one can do anything." "I believe you." He was silent for a moment, still looking at her intently. "I wonder," he said then, "if you would be willing to give me something I very much want. I have no right to ask it, and yet, for the sake of many pleasant hours we have spent together--that's a tame phrase for me to use of them, from my standpoint--for their sake would you be willing to let me have--a picture of yourself? I promise you it shall be seen by no one but myself. It would mean a good deal to me. Yet, if you are not entirely willing, I won't ask it." He spoke in the quietest, grave way. After a moment's hesitation she answered him as quietly. "I don't know why I should mind, Dr. Leaver, and yet, somehow, I find I do. Will you believe it's not because I don't want to please you?" His face showed, in spite of him, that the denial hurt him. He held out his hand. "You are quite right to be frank. Shall we say good-bye? All kinds of success to you this winter--and always." "Thank you, Dr. Leaver. I give you back the wish." They shook hands, the two faces smiling at each other. Then he went quickly away. Looking after him she saw that he carried his hat in his hand until he had reached the gate in the hedge. He closed the gate without a backward glance, and in a minute more was out of sight.