Bertram rose then, crossed the room, and took
Billy very gently into his arms.

``Sweetheart, you were a dear this noon to
let me off like that,'' he began in a voice shaken
with emotion. ``You don't know, perhaps,
exactly what you did. You see, I was nearly
wild between wanting to be with you, and wanting
to go on with my work. And I was just at that
point where one little word from you, one hint
that you wanted me to come anyway--and I
should have come. But you didn't say it, nor hint
it. Like the brave little bit of inspiration that you
are, you bade me stay and go on with my work.''

The ``inspiration's'' head drooped a little
lower, but this only brought a wealth of soft
bronze hair to just where Bertram could lay his
cheek against it--and Bertram promptly took
advantage of his opportunity. ``And so I stayed,
Billy, and I did good work; I know I did good
work. Why, Billy,''--Bertram stepped back
now, and held Billy by the shoulders at arms'
length--``Billy, that's going to be the best
work I've ever done. I can see it coming even
now, under my fingers.''

Billy lifted her head and looked into her lover's
face. His eyes were glowing. His cheeks were