For the moment the girl still lingering in her five-and-twenty hard years flashed to the surface, adorably warming the cold, finely sculptured face, and bringing rare laughter into her eyes. Jimmie marvelled at the infinite sweetness of her, and fed his poor hungry soul thereon. “You look like a midsummer morning,” he said unsteadily. The tone caught her, sobered her; but the colour deepened on her cheek. “I'll treasure that as a pretty compliment,” she said. There was a little space of silence--quite a perilous little space, with various unsaid things lurking in ambush. Norma broke it first. “Now I have seen everything, have n't I? No. There are some on the floor against the wall.” Jimmie explained their lack of value, showed her two or three. They were mostly the wasters from his picture factory, he said. She found in each a subject for admiration, and Jimmie glowed with pleasure at her praise. While he was replacing them she moved across the studio. “And this one?” she asked, with her finger on the top of a strainer. He looked round and followed swiftly to her side. It was her own portrait with its face to the wall. “I am not going to show you that,” he said hurriedly. “Why not?” “It's a crazy thing.” “I should love to see it.” “I tell you it's a crazy thing,” he repeated. “A mad artist's dream.” Norma arched her eyebrows. “Aha! That is very like a confession!” “Of what?” “The ideal woman?” “Perhaps,” he said. “I thought everything was so positive in your scheme of life,” she remarked teasingly. “Don't you know?” “Yes,” said Jimmie, “I know.” Again the vibration that Jimmie, poorest of actors, could not keep from his voice, stirred her. She felt the indelicacy of having trodden upon sanctified ground. She turned away and sat down. They talked of other matters, somewhat self-consciously. Both welcomed the entrance of Connie Deering and Aline. The former filled the studio at once with laughing chatter. She hoped Norma had not turned Jimmie's hair white with the dreadful things she must have said. “I don't turn a hair, as I'm a mere worldling, but Jimmie is an unsophisticated child of nature, and is n't accustomed to you, my dear Norma.” She went on to explain that she was Jimmie's natural protectress, and that they who harmed him would have to reckon with her. Jimmie flew gaily to Norma's defence. “And this child's garments?” he asked, indicating Aline, whose face was irradiated by a vision of splendid attire. “Don't meddle with what does n't concern you,” replied Connie, while she and the girl exchanged the glances of conspirators. A short while afterwards the two visitors drove away. For some time Norma responded somewhat absently to Mrs. Deering's light talk. “I am so glad you have taken to Jimmie,” said the latter at last. “Is n't he a dear?” “I remember your saying that before. But is n't it rather an odd word to use with reference to him?” said Norma. “Odd--? But that's just what he is.”