"If you paint a notable picture and gain honor by it, that is enough," she
said. "It may make you famous." She smiled a little wistfully. "You are
very ambitious. You needed, you said to me once, a simple but powerful
subject which you could paint in with some one's life' blood--that sounds
more dreadful than it is * * * well? * * * You said you had been
successful, but had never had an inspiration"--

"I have one!"

She shook her head. "Never an inspiration which had possessed you as you
ought to be to move the public * * * well? * * * do you think I have
helped you at all? I wanted so much to do something for you."

To Hagar's mind there came the remembrance of the pure woman who, to help
an artist, as poverty stricken as he was talented, engaged on the "Capture
of Cassandra," came into his presence as Lady Godiva passed through the
streets of Coventry, as hushed and as solemn. A sob shook in his
throat--he was of few but strong emotions; he reached out, took her
wrists in his hands, and held them hard. "I have my inspiration now," he
said; "I know that I can paint my one great picture. I shall owe all to
you. And for my gratitude, it seems little to say that I love you--I love
you, Marion."

She drew her hands away, turned her head aside, her face both white and
red. "Oh, hush, you must not say it!" she said. "You forget; do not make
me fear you and hate myself. * * * I wanted to be your friend--from the
first, to help you, as I said; be, then, a friend to me, that I may
forgive myself."