Billy colored. Bertram smiled.

``I have,'' he said. ``I have painted her many
times. In fact, I have painted her so often that
she once declared it was only the tilt of her chin
and the turn of her head that I loved--to
paint,'' he said merrily, enjoying Billy's pretty
confusion, and not realizing that his words really
distressed her. ``I have a whole studio full of
`Billys' at home.''

``Oh, have you, really?'' questioned Miss
Winthrop, eagerly. ``Then mayn't I see them?
Mayn't I, please, Mrs. Henshaw? I'd so love
to!''

``Why, of course you may,'' murmured both
the artist and his wife.

``Thank you. Then I'm coming right away.
May I? I'm going to Washington next week,
you see. Will you let me come to-morrow at--
at half-past three, then? Will it be quite
convenient for you, Mrs. Henshaw?''

``Quite convenient. I shall be glad to see
you,'' smiled Billy. And Bertram echoed his
wife's cordial permission.

``Thank you. Then I'll be there at half-past