“Only a clump of forget-me-nots. Yours are such beauties!”

She drew back laughing, and shut the window. For the first time Everitt regretted the absence of Miss Aitcheson. Had she been here Kitty, might have gone on talking, and he thought her voice the prettiest that he had ever heard; but, after all, though he was unconscious of it, it was her silent presence, and the opportunity for imagination which it afforded him, which momentarily strengthened the spell. As for not seeing her again, that idea had vanished for ever. See her he would, at whatever risk; and even the waiting a few days—to which prudence, driven from all her strongholds, fell back upon at the last—seemed a miserable concession, to which it was more than doubtful if he would yield. Why, in those few days some other man might come to the front!

It will be seen that Everitt was very far gone indeed.

He was trying to forget the stiffness of his arm, and he had quite succeeded in forgetting Miss Aitcheson when she came in.

“Oh, Bell!” reproachfully from Kitty.

“Yes, my dear, it’s too tiresome! But father has taken this fancy for coming with me, and he has kept me waiting for ages. I made Hugh walk with me, after all, and it is too late for any painting, and I am very much disappointed.”

“Yes,” said Kitty regretfully, “it is too late. The time is up.” To Everitt—“You can go now, and please tell Mr Everitt that I am sorry you cannot come again. Oh, and I will pay you.”

Pay! Horrible humiliation, of which he had never thought, and yet which he dared not refuse! He murmured something about waiting, but Kitty had already her little purse in her hand, and was counting out the shillings. It seemed to him as if he hardly knew where he was, as he went out of the room with reluctant feet, and down the oak staircase into the ground between the house and the Hospital, where the old men stood about or sat in the warmly sheltered corners.

Chapter Four.

Discovery.

Kitty Lascelles watched her model out of the room with some intentness. When she turned away at last, she gave a little troubled sigh, and looked at Bell, standing before her picture. Bell answered the look by an extremely brief question. “Well?”

“Bell,” said the other girl, in a very low voice, “does it strike you 

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