" she answered stoutly; "we neither of us can afford
it. You must learn to be sensible."

"But, my dear girl, I tell you I'm beginning to make money now."

"Well, don't begin to spend it; and then perhaps you may have a little
in the bank in a year or two."

"A year or two!" he exclaimed; "I'll have enough in six months to--"

She interrupted him briskly.

"Lucas! Don't you remember we agreed that whichever of us said 'marry'
first should be fined?"

"I never agreed."

"Then I shall break off the engagement."

Yet she continued walking quickly by his side till they came to the
studio. He took out his key, but she stopped short on the pavement with
a fine air of decision.

"I won't come in unless you promise to be more or less rational," she
said.

And then with the same air of decision she entered.

After a few minutes' apparently unnecessary delay he lit the gas and she
settled herself in the deck-chair while he filled the teapot.

"Nursing is too heavy work for you," he said suddenly.

"Don't be absurd," she smiled.

He put down the teapot, took her by the shoulders, and looked into her
eyes, at once critic and adorer.

"Jean! You can't deceive me. It's my business to know how people sit
when they are tired, and what signs in their faces show they are
overworked. You are nearly dead beat."

"Only--only a very little, Lucas," she said less stoutly.

Her spirit was brave, but her feet were weary, and how her back ached!

"I'm going to take you away from that infernal hospital," he announced.

Her back stiffened again.

"Lucas! you promised to be sensible."

He smiled down at her.

"I have the sense to marry you--and do it at once, too!"

She jumped up.

"Lucas!"

"Jean!"

He held her fast.

"You may be strong enough to hold me," she panted, "but you aren't
strong enough to marry me against my will!"

"But why shouldn't we? Why the mischief, why the dickens, why the devil
not?"

"Because you'd be bankrupt in a month. You've _no_ sense, dear. Do get
that into your head. By your own admission you have only just begun to
sell your pictures. Wait and see whether it lasts--wait for a couple of
years--"

"A couple of--! I won't, and that's flat!"

"One year, then."

"Twelve months? I can't, Jean."

"You must!"

"Daren't you risk it now?"

She drew herself back a little.

"Lucas, that isn't fair. I dare do _anything_--except come to you
without a penny, and probably ruin you. I