ow and see where it
stops. We'll have lunch somewhere, and I'll bring you back in the
evening.'

'If there's a good working light to-morrow, I lose a day.' Maisie
balanced the heavy white chestnut palette irresolutely.

Dick bit back an oath that was hurrying to his lips. He had not yet
learned patience with the maiden to whom her work was all in all.

'You'll lose ever so many more, dear, if you use every hour of working
light. Overwork's only murderous idleness. Don't be unreasonable. I'll
call for you to-morrow after breakfast early.'

'But surely you are going to ask----'

'No, I am not. I want you and nobody else. Besides, she hates me as much
as I hate her. She won't care to come. To-morrow, then; and pray that we
get sunshine.'

Dick went away delighted, and by consequence did no work whatever.

He strangled a wild desire to order a special train, but bought a great
gray kangaroo cloak lined with glossy black marten, and then retired
into himself to consider things.

'I'm going out for the day to-morrow with Dick,' said Maisie to the
red-haired girl when the latter returned, tired, from marketing in the
Edgware road.

'He deserves it. I shall have the studio floor thoroughly scrubbed while
you're away. It's very dirty.'

Maisie had enjoyed no sort of holiday for months and looked forward to
the little excitement, but not without misgivings.

'There's nobody nicer than Dick when he talks sensibly, she though,
but I'm sure he'll be silly and worry me, and I'm sure I can't tell him
anything he'd like to hear. If he'd only be sensible, I should like him
so much better.'

Dick's eyes were full of joy when he made his appearance next morning
and saw Maisie, gray-ulstered and black-velvet-hatted, standing in the
hallway. Palaces of marble, and not sordid imitation of grained wood,
were surely the fittest background for such a divinity. The red-haired
girl drew her into the studio for a moment and kissed her hurriedly.

Maisie's eyebrows climbed to the top of her forehead; she was altogether
unused to these demonstrations. 'Mind my hat,' she said, hurrying away,
and ran down the steps to Dick waiting by the hansom.

'Are you quite warm enough! Are you sure you wouldn't like some more
breakfast? Put the cloak over you knees.'

'I'm quite comf'y, thanks. Where are we going, Dick? Oh, do stop singing
like that. People will think we're mad.'

'Let 'em think,--if the exertion doesn't kill them. They don't