Sometimes Thurley wondered if Bliss Hobart knew of Dan’s visits. Once she was determined to make him speak to her about something save her voice and decided to tell him, but he forestalled her by saying that the “songbirds” were giving him an album as a present and although he did not care which picture most of them selected for his gift, he had an idea he wanted Thurley as her own self and not in any costume rôle—did she mind? They were in his office when he made the request, Bliss sitting at his desk, as he had been sitting the first time she had seen him, his fingers touching the little mascot she had shyly presented that initial and wretched Christmas. “Of course not,”—knowing she blushed unbecomingly. “What sort of a ‘myself’ picture will your majesty have?” “Oh, just Thurley—when you blush do you know you leave the rouge boundaries far behind? Please don’t do your hair like oyster shells—Lissa is the only person sufficiently vulgar to do so—and wear a close fitting white turban besides!” Emboldened by his request Thurley ventured further, “What makes you order me about so? Am I always to be a novice in your eyes?” “I like to remember you as you were that first Christmas. I do think, Thurley, Christmas is the only time I ever allow myself to be sentimental. Remember how you looked in your blue serge, bright red coat with silver buttons and an ermine tam tumbling off your head—a splendid, real thing you were.” “I’ve a picture taken then,” she said softly. “Say it is mine and I’ll tell you a secret—the greatest sculptor in the world is to be my guest very shortly. He is here from his native land, Alsace-Lorraine, to gather funds. He will speak to us because I’m going to give him a party and at the same time Collin will have the surprise of his life!” “Not going to be married?” “You women! Worse luck. I say—his picture, ‘Cupid and the Peacock,’ has been given the French medal—and the master will announce it to him.” “I’ll send the picture up to-morrow,” Thurley promised. Hobart’s eyes were twinkling and tender all in one. “Well, well, I’m more important than the great sculptor or Collin’s success! Thurley, you are becoming dangerous! Some day we shall have a great reckoning, you and I,” and before she could tell him of Dan he had bustled her out of the room, teasing her until she wished she had refused him a photograph of her own self.