"I can't help it," she answered. "I'm afraid my nature must be warped I have such a knack of being disagreeable. I could have pinched that horrid little baby this afternoon, it irritated me so; and yet I am fond of children. And I could have been exceedingly rude to Miss Bolton if she hadn't been rude to me first;--of course I wouldn't follow her example in anything." "Rude to you?--Evie? How?" "Oh! in an entirely lady-like manner. She merely gave me to understand that she didn't intend to recognise me, and treated me as she would any other shop assistant. Miss Bolton means taking you up and cutting your wife. I suppose she is perfectly justified." "Don't be ridiculous, Jill," St. John cried sharply. "Evie means nothing of the sort. She spoke of you most kindly, and said it was a pity you couldn't go with us." "Ah!" rejoined Jill queerly. "My mistake again. Evie has a mystifying way of showing her kindness, but doubtless she means well. You, I suppose, understand her better than I do, but I shouldn't advise you to try arranging an excursion for three." "Very well," he returned, "I won't go with her again. I wouldn't have to-day if I had thought it would annoy you. We were like brother and sister always and it was pleasant for me to see her again." Jill heaved a deep sigh, and leaned her forehead against the window pane. She knew that he had no intention of wounding her feelings yet these unconscious allusions to the sacrifice that he had made in marrying her hurt her more than they need have done. And St. John never guessed. Not for a moment had he regretted the step he had taken, and it did not occur to him that Jill should imagine he might. "I am not annoyed," she said after a brief pause. "I am irritable this evening, that's all. Mr Markham said that I wasn't looking well; perhaps I am a little out of sorts. Are the pictures good this year, Jack?" "Good enough. But none of them to come up to yours in my eyes as I told Evie. It's scandalous to think that real talent should get overlooked, yet it's often enough the case." "Mr Markham," jerked out Jill suddenly, "wishes me to paint his portrait." St. John laughed. "Markham is getting vain," he said. "No doubt he purposes presenting it to Evie. When is the first sitting to be?" "I don't know, nothing is definitely settled, I thought I would speak to you about it first." St. John looked at her in astonishment. "Why?" he asked. Jill hesitated. She had no real reason to offer, but when Mr Markham made the proposal she felt that she would like to consult Jack before deciding. She had consulted him, and now regretted having done so. "I wasn't sure whether the arrangement would be agreeable to Mr Thompkins," she answered. "He expects me to be available for the studio at all times and seasons you know, and, of course, undertaking this would mean giving a good deal of my time--"