Margaret Hugonin had a pretty hand, and Mr. Woods, as an artist, could not well fail to admire it. Still, he needn't have looked at it as though he had never before seen anything quite like it; he needn't have neglected to return it; and when Miss Hugonin reclaimed it, after a decent interval, he needn't have laughed in a manner that compelled her to laugh, too. These things were unnecessary and annoying, as they caused Margaret to forget that she despised him. [Illustration: "Then, for no apparent reason, Margaret flushed, and Billy ... thought it vastly becoming"] For the time being--will you believe it?--she actually thought he was rather nice. "I acted like an ass," said Mr. Woods, tragically. "Oh, yes, I did, you know. But if you'll forgive me for having been an ass I'll forgive you for throwing me over for Teddy Anstruther, and at the wedding I'll dance through any number of pairs of patent-leathers you choose to mention." So that was the way he looked at it. Teddy Anstruther, indeed! Why, Teddy was a dark little man with brown eyes--just the sort of man she most objected to. How could any one ever possibly fancy a brown-eyed man? Then, for no apparent reason, Margaret flushed, and Billy, who had stretched his great length of limb on the grass beside her, noted it with a pair of the bluest eyes in the world and thought it vastly becoming. "Billy," said she, impulsively--and the name having slipped out once by accident, it would have been absurd to call him anything else afterward--"it was horrid of you to refuse to take any of that money." "But I didn't want it," he protested. "Good Lord, I'd only have done something foolish with it. It was awfully square of you, Peggy, to offer to divide, but I didn't want it, you see. I don't want to be a millionaire, and give up the rest of my life to founding libraries and explaining to people that if they never spend any money on amusements they'll have a great deal by the time they're too old to enjoy it. I'd rather paint pictures." So that I think Margaret must have endeavoured at some time to make him accept part of Frederick R. Woods's money. "You make me feel--and look--like a thief," she reproved him. Then Billy laughed a little. "You don't look in the least like one," he reassured her. "You look like an uncommonly honest, straightforward young woman," Mr. Woods added, handsomely, "and I don't believe you'd purloin under the severest temptation." She thanked him for his testimonial, with all three dimples in evidence. This was unsettling. He hedged. "Except, perhaps--" said he. "Yes?" queried Margaret, after a pause. However, she questioned him with her head drooped forward, her brows raised; and as this gave him the full effect of her eyes, Mr. Woods became quite certain that there was, at least, one thing she might be expected to rob him of, and wisely declined to mention it.