``That I didn't wish to interfere with your
work--which was quite true,'' interrupted Billy
in her turn, smoothly. ``By the way,''--Billy
was examining her stitches very closely now
--``how is Miss Winthrop's portrait coming
on?''

``Splendidly!--that is, it _was_, until she began
to put off the sittings for her pink teas and
folderols. She's going to Washington next week, too,
to be gone nearly a fortnight,'' finished Bertram, gloomily.

``Aren't you putting more work than usual
into this one--and more sittings?''

``Well, yes,'' laughed Bertram, a little shortly.
``You see, she's changed the pose twice already.''

``Changed it!''

``Yes. Wasn't satisfied. Fancied she wanted
it different.''

``But can't you--don't you have something to
say about it?''

``Oh, yes, of course; and she claims she'll
yield to my judgment, anyhow. But what's the
use? She's been a spoiled darling all her life, and