“Do you paint people?” inquired little Anne. “I thought you put cows in your pictures. Mr. Latham has a lovely, still field with a cow in it; he said you painted it.” “_Still_ field! Fair for adjectives, eh, Dick?” cried Ted, delighted. “I assure you, Miss Little-Anne, that I also paint portraits. Will you sit to me?” “I’d perfec’ly love it!” said little Anne. “But I never was pretty; I was always dark and thin. I thought sitters were pretty. I have a niece who is the prettiest child in all the world. She’s so fat and pink she has to dimple. I never was a fas’nating child like Barbara, but if you’d like to paint my picture I’d be so pleased I couldn’t say it. And there’s one thing, I can sit as still!” “Then that’s settled! And when you sit to me we shall chat all the time, and possibly we shall let Mr. Latham come to help us talk. I’m going to stay awhile; we’ll meet often, I hope. Good-bye, Miss Little-Anne.” Ted Wilberforce shook hands again with little Anne; plainly he had capitulated to her at once. Little Anne put her arms around Richard’s neck and kissed him hard. “Good-bye, dear; I shall pray for you lots, for you’re really quite pale,” she whispered. “The dear little saintly old lady!” cried Ted, who had caught the whisper and was watching little Anne away with amusement that was not wholly amusement. Miss Carrington on this morning had encountered Kit in a mood that she did not recognize. She had spoken to him of the broken engagement between Richard Latham and Anne Dallas. She found that Kit was prepared to announce to her, not the accomplished fact, but his resolution that his own engagement to Anne Dallas would soon follow this break. “Do I know what caused this break between Miss Dallas and Mr. Latham? Certainly I do, Aunt Anne. Mr. Latham learned that Miss Dallas and I love each other. We had agreed that she must fulfil her promise to Mr. Latham, but, naturally, he wouldn’t marry a girl who loved another man! Like the honourable man that he is he renounced his own happiness for hers. Anne won’t see me yet; she is miserably unhappy about Latham, but she will see me, and it won’t be long before I introduce my wife to you, Aunt Anne,” said Kit. “I hope so, but you won’t introduce Anne Dallas to me as your wife,” Miss Carrington had answered, instantly in a towering rage as she recognized in Kit a determination that made him at once a man to be reckoned with. At the same time her own, new physical weakness was more perceptible as her temper rose. “Christopher Carrington, I will not consent to your marriage to that girl! Nothing against her personally, but she is fortuneless, nameless, no family, no anything! Never!” “Nonsense, Aunt Anne! Please don’t talk foolishly,” said Kit, and left her almost choking in enraged surprise that Kit had dared to dismiss her as ridiculous.