uch cases are an old story," he replied. "And--you are not his
wife?"

"No."

"I thought not. Nevertheless, perhaps you will remain with him
until--"

"As Monsieur says," she returned, "I will remain with him 'until--'"

When the sick man awoke from the sleep into which he had fallen, a
fire burned in the stove and a woman's figure was seated before it.

"You are here yet?" he said faintly. She rose and moved toward him.

"I am not going away," she answered, "if you will permit me to
remain."

His eyes shone with pathetic brightness, and he put out his hand.

"You are very kind--to a poor--weak fellow," he whispered. "After
all--it is a desolate thing--to lie awake through the night--in a
place like this."

When the doctor returned the next morning, he appeared even a shade
disconcerted. He had thought it quite likely that upon his second
visit he might find a scant white sheet drawn over the narrow bed, and
that it would not be necessary for him to remain or call again; but it
appeared that his patient might require his attention yet a few days
longer.

"You have not left him at all," he said to Natalie. "It is easy to see
you did not sleep last night."

It was true that she had not slept. Through the night she had sat in
the dim glow of the fire, scarcely stirring unless some slight sound
of movement from the bed attracted her attention. During the first
part of the night her charge had seemed to sleep; but as the hours
wore on there had been no more rest for him, and then she had known
that he lay with his eyes fixed upon her; she had felt their gaze even
before she had turned to meet it. Just before the dawn he became
restless, and called her to his side.

"I owe you a heavy debt," he said drearily. "And I shall leave it
unpaid. I wish--I wish it was finished."

"It?" she said.

"The picture," he answered, "the--picture."

Usually he was too weak for speech; but occasionally a fit of
restlessness seized upon him, and then it seemed as if he was haunted
continually by the memory of his unfinished work.

"It only needed a few touches," he said once. "One day of strength
would complete it--if such a day would but come to me, I know the look
so well now--I see it on your face so often." And then he lay watching
her, his eyes following her yearningly, as she moved to and fro.

In the studios below, the artists waited in vain for their model. They
neither saw nor heard anything of her, and they knew