r with me."

"Ah, but my ship may be delayed longer than that and----"

"There is a ship always at your disposal, now as it was three years
ago," he interrupted, but she made a gesture of protest.

"It is good to see you again, Tom; it is nice to be with you. Please
don't make it necessary for me to send you away again. Let's just be
friends, and let me feel that I have your sympathy and affection in
the struggle I am having with my life work."

"You have both, always, little girl; but is it worth it, this 'life
work'? Is it enough to repay you for sacrificing all that other women
find good in life? I wish that you would tell me about your troubles
in it; your struggles and disappointments and what you hope for." It
was no easy recital which the girl entered upon, and her pride made
her conceal a great deal; but from what Tom knew of her circumstances
before she started in, and the conclusions he had drawn from what he
had seen, he was able to read between the lines of her story.

"And so, you see, I am not able to do as good work as I should," she
faltered over the coffee. "I am 'faking' it all, because I cannot
afford to use models, and what talent I may have is in the line of
portraiture. But sitters don't flock to South Washington Square, and
it is hard to get a start."

"Have you ever done portraits?" he asked, anxious to find a way to
help her.

"No--that is, no paying ones. I have painted only two, and, like the
country storekeeper, taken my pay in kind; but they were good,
Tom--really they were, and I feel that if I could get such work to do
I could make a name for myself."

"Why not paint my portrait?" he asked, suddenly. "I have always longed
to have my phiz, labeled 'Portrait of a Gent,' staring from the wall
at an exhibition."

"I'm afraid it would be from near the skyline, if my signature were on
it," she answered, laughing. "That is, if it were accepted at all; but
you must understand, Tom, old boy, that I can't accept your offers of
help, even under the thickest of veils."

"That is the beastly part of the conventions of this miserable world,"
he answered, irritably. "Here am I, strong, healthy and with more of
its goods than I can use, and yet you can't accept from my surplus
enough to tide you over a lean year or two, because Mrs. Grundy
forbids."

"But she is a very real and very terrible person; even to bachelor
maids, Tom. If, like a sensible boy, you had married a sensible girl,
whom