Lenox, with a keen glance at his wife's face, followed the Desmonds into the verandah, and helped Honor into her seat. "You'll keep your promise, won't you?" she pleaded. "And go straight to bed without even looking into your study. Never mind if the lamp burns there all night. You can charge me for the kerosene!" "That's a bargain then," he answered, laughing. "It's like old times to have _you_ laying commands on me again!" "Not only to-night, remember: a whole week of nights and more." "Trust me. I have promised. Good-night, Mrs Desmond, and thank you." As the dog-cart turned into the open road, Honor spoke: "Theo, if she lets him go to pieces again . . . I shall never, never forgive her." There was a break in her low voice, and Desmond slipping a hand through her arm, pressed it close against him. "You dear blessed woman, no fear of that. She cares,--with all her heart. But there are faults and difficulties on both sides; and I'm afraid they have still a lot of rough ground to get over before they settle into their stride." And Quita, the perverse, Quita, the inconsistent, cried herself to sleep that night upon her husband's shoulder. CHAPTER XXX "Hearts are like horses; they come and go without whip or spur." --_Native Proverb_. "Only ten minutes more; a bare ten minutes. Then you shall 'ease off' and stretch your legs a little. I'm sure by this time you must be wishing all artists at the bottom of the sea!" "N-no; I haven't got quite as far as that yet," Richardson answered with lazy good-humour, flicking the ash off his cigar. "You will, though, before I've done with you! I know I have been exacting to-day, for the eyes are the crux of a portrait. Unless the individual soul looks out of them, it's a dead thing. D'you know, I once told Eldred that yours were like bits of sea water with sunbeams caught in them; and the effect isn't easy to produce on canvas. But I'm succeeding--I'm succeeding _a merveille_. That's why I must get the effect while my hand is in; and you've not once hampered me by looking bored or impatient. How is one to reward you for such angelic behaviour?" "There are ways and ways. Am I allowed to choose?" "Perhaps,--within limits! But we'll discuss that when I can give my mind to the subject. Now, your head a little more to the right, please. That's better. You get out of position when you talk." "Sorry. I may lean back though, mayn't I?" "Why, of course! I only wonder you don't get up and throw the chair at my head!" He laughed and leaned back accordingly, blowing an endless chain of smoke-rings, and watching her face, her supple slenderness, the deft movements of her hand, with a contentment whose vital ingredients he either could not or would not recognise--yet.