"Dear heart, you've taken arbitrary possession of as many of me as there are! And indeed, I'd be puzzled to swear to the exact number. I seem to have let you in for three sorts of wives already! But seriously, Eldred, I have come to one conclusion in the long months I have had for thinking things over. I believe you were right in saying it might be best for me to give up painting men's portraits. Not altogether: I don't think I could, unless you insisted! But I won't make it a speciality, as I have done; and I'll be more circumspect in my methods, and in my choice of subjects. Will that do?" He looked full at her for a moment; his keen eyes melting into wells of tenderness. "My darling--what's come to you?" was all he said. "A spirit of understanding, I hope," she answered sweetly. "But you'll find plenty of the old unreasonable Quita effervescing underneath! _Par exemple_--on the heels of my great renunciation, the first thing I want to do is a portrait of Major Desmond for my dear Honor,--if I may?" "If you may! What next?" But being a man and human, he was obviously gratified. "You could suggest nothing that would please me better. You'll make a fine thing of it; and as for your methods, 'get inside' Desmond for all you're worth. You'll do no harm in _that_ quarter!" "Harm?" she flashed out, half indignant. "Has it ever, in all of your knowledge of me, gone as far as that?" He could not lie to her; neither would he betray Dick. "Did such a possibility never occur to you?" he suggested, evading direct reply. But she was not to be thwarted. "I asked you a question, _mon cher_." "And that is my answer." "A question is not an answer." Then intuition, and his evident discomfiture, enlightened her. "_Mon Dieu_, Eldred! Yon are never thinking--of Dick?" He frowned. "What put that into your head?" "Your manner; and something he wrote to me while he was away. You heard, of course? He said he had told you the good news." "What good news? When?" "Weeks ago. Before he came back off leave." "I had no letter. Must have been mislaid while I was ill. What's up? Has he got a command?" "Yes. And better than that. He is going to be married." "By Jove! That's first-rate. Good old Dick! But what was it he said to you?" "I'll show you the letter. Such a charming one. He began, 'Dear Friend,' which wasn't like him. It puzzled me. And he ended by saying he felt sure I should be glad to know how much of his present happiness he owed to his intimacy with me. So you see, dearest, I did no irretrievable harm." "No, mercifully not, thanks to Dick's uprightness, and his happy temperament. But he might have been quite another sort; like myself, for instance. By the time I had known you two weeks, Quita, the damage was permanent. Even if there had been no word of love between us, I should never have given a thought to another woman--after that."