to make me a promise that you will never give
up your work--your splendid work!" She hesitated, and
looked at him almost with supplication. "But then why
should you make such a promise to _me!_"

They were sitting opposite one another in the dusty
confusion of the room, and when she said this Kendal got
up and walked over to her, without knowing exactly why.

"If I made such a promise," he said, looking down at her,
"it would be more binding given to you than to anybody
else--more binding and more sacred."

If she had exacted it he would have promised then and
there, and he had some vague notion of sealing the vow
with his lips upon her hand, and of arranging--this was
more indefinite still--that she should always insist, in
her sweet personal way, upon its fulfilment. But Elfrida
felt the intensity in his voice with a kind of fear, not
of the situation--she had a nervous delight in the
situation--but of herself. She had a sudden terror in
his coming so close to her, in his changed voice, and
its sharpness lay in her recognition of it. Why should
she be frightened? She jumped up gaily with the question
still throbbing in her throat.

"No," she cried, "you shall not promise me. I'll form a
solemn, committee of your friends--your real friends--and
we'll come some day and exact an oath from you, individually
and collectively. That will be much more impressive. I
must go now," she went on reproachfully, "and you have
shown me nothing that you've brought back with you. Is
there anything here?" In her anxiety to put space between
them she bad walked to the furthest and untidiest corner
of the room, where half a dozen canvases leaned with
their faces to the wall.

Kendal watched her, tilt them forward one after another
with a kind or sick impotence.

"Absolutely nothing!" he cried.

But it was too late--she had paused in her running
commentary on the pictures, she was standing looking,
absolutely silent, at the last but one. She had come upon
it--she had found it--his sketch of the scene in Lady
Halifax's drawing-room.

"Oh yes, there is something!" she said at last, carefully
drawing it out and holding it at arm's length. "Something
that is quite new to me. Do you mind if I put it in a
better light?" Her voice had wonderfully changed; it
expressed a curious interest and self-control. In effect
that was all she felt for the moment; she had a dull
consciousness of a blow, but did not yet quite understand
being