Two tears rolled down Aunt Faith's cheeks, but she hastily wiped them away as Sibyl kissed her affectionately. "Dear Aunt Faith," she said, "do not be down-hearted. Hugh has the seeds in his heart planted by your faithful hand, and although they have not blossomed yet, I feel sure they are growing." "Yes, dear; I cannot help feeling as you do," replied Aunt Faith, trying to smile. But her heart was heavy. Upstairs in the studio Bessie was painting rapidly, while Hugh in the old arm-chair sat gazing out through the open window, much as he had done on that bright June morning three months before, when Bessie had confessed the secret of the unpaid bill. "How does the picture progress, Queen Bess?" he asked. "Very well, excepting the eyes; I cannot get the right expression, I have tried over and over again. They are never the same two minutes at a time; I almost wish they were made of glass," said Bessie impatiently. "Then I would be the bully boy with a glass eye," said Hugh, laughing. "And a wax nose," said Bessie. "And a tin ear," continued Hugh. "And a cork leg," added Bessie. "And a brass arm, finis," said Hugh; "the weather is too warm for further studies in anatomy." "What does it all mean, anyway, Hugh? I have heard Tom and his friends say the whole string over and over again with the greatest apparent satisfaction; but to me they convey not a shadow of an idea." "Nor to any one else, I imagine," said Hugh. "If the phrases ever had any meaning, it has long ago vanished into obscurity. I have seen explanations given of many popular terms but never of these. After I am gone, though, Bessie, you had better give up slang. It is all very well with me, and to tell the truth, _I_ have taught you all you know, but it would not do with any one else." "Just as though I should ever speak a word of it to any one else," said Bessie indignantly. "With you, it is different; you are like another myself." "_Alter_ ego," said Hugh. "I don't know anything about alter ego, but I know I shall miss you dreadfully," said Bessie, throwing down her brush as the thought of Hugh's departure came into her mind with vivid distinctness. "I shall be back again in November, Bessie." "Yes; but only for a day or two." "Perhaps I shall come home in the spring, also." "But it won't be the same. You will change,--I know you will," murmured Bessie, with a half sob. "I shall not change towards any of you here at home, but of course I shall grow older, and I hope I shall improve. You remember all I told you about my plans for the future?" "Yes, Hugh. But it is such a long way off."