when the chance came."

How handsome and well-groomed he was sitting there in the easy willow
seat! And how good he had been to Mrs. Darby in these trying days! A
dozen little services that her niece had overlooked had come naturally
to his hand and mind.

The words of Uncle Cornie came into Jerry Swaim's mind as she looked at
him: "He's a good fellow, with real talent, and he'll make a name for
himself some day. He'll make a decent living, too, independent of
anybody's aunts and uncles, but he's no stronger-willed nor smarter nor
better than you are." A thrill of pleasure quickened her pulse at the
recollection, making this new decision of hers the more firm.

"It has seemed like a month since we sat here the evening before Uncle
Cornie passed away," Eugene began. "He made a bad discus-throw and came
over here just as I began to tell you something, Jerry. Do you remember
what we were saying when he appeared on the scene?"

"Yes, I remember." Jerry's voice was low, but there was no quaver in it.

Her face, as she lifted it, seemed to his eyes the one face he could
never paint. For him it was the fulfilment of a man's best dream.

"There's only one grief in my heart at this minute--that I can never put
your face as it is now on any canvas. But let me tell you some things
that Aunt Jerry has been telling me. She seems so fond of you, and she
says that after all the claims against your father's estate are settled
there is really no income left for you. But she assures me that it makes
no difference, because you can go on living with her exactly as you have
always done. She told me she had never failed in the fruition of a
single plan of hers, and she is too old to fail now. She has some plan
for you--" The young artist hesitated.

Jerry had never thought much about his good looks until in these June
days in "Eden" when Love had come noiselessly down the way to her. And
yet--a little faint, irresolute line in the man's face--a mere shadow, a
ghost of nothing at all, fixed itself in her image of his countenance. A
quick intuition flashed into her mind with the last words.

"Aunt Jerry is too old for lots of things besides the failure of her
plans. I know what she said, Gene, because I know what she thinks. She
isn't exactly fond of me; she wants to control me. I believe there are
only two planes of existence with her--one of absolute rule, and the
other of absolute submission. She couldn't conceive of me in the first