"Must be Narramore, of course. He was here not long ago, and growled
a good deal because I hadn't a decent chair for his lazy bones."

"I am much obliged to him," said Eve, as she sank back in the seat
of luxurious repose. "You ought to hang his portrait in the room.
Haven't you a photograph?" she added carelessly.

"Such a thing doesn't exist. Like myself, he hasn't had a portrait
taken since he was a child. A curious thing, by-the-bye, that you
should have had yours taken just when you did. Of course it was
because you were going far away for the first time; but it marked a
point in your life, and put on record the Eve Madeley whom no one
would see again If I can't get that photograph in any other way I
shall go and buy, beg, or steal it from Mrs. Brewer."

"Oh, you shall have one if you insist upon it."

"Why did you refuse it before?"

"I hardly know--a fancy--I thought you would keep looking at it,
and regretting that I had changed so."

As on her previous visit, she soon ceased to talk, and, in listening
to Hilliard, showed unconsciously a tired, despondent face.

"Nothing yet," fell from her lips, when he had watched her silently.

"Never mind; I hate the mention of it."

"By-the-bye," he resumed, "Narramore astounded me by hinting at