ger-snap between her lips, and chewed enigmatically upon
it. "See?" she said.

"Now, look here, Charmian Maybough," said Cornelia sternly, "if you
ever mention that again, or allude to it the least in the world----"

"Don't I _say_ I won't?" demanded Charmian, jumping up. "That will be
the whole fun of it. From the very first moment, till I'm framed and
hung in a good light, I'm going to be _mum_, through and through, and
if _you_ don't speak of him, I sha'n't, except as a fellow-artist."

"What a simpleton!" said Cornelia. She laughed in spite of her
vexation. "I'm not obliged to let what you think trouble me."

"Of course not."

"Your thinking it doesn't make it so."

"No----"

"But if you let _him_ see----"

"The whole idea is _not_ to let him see! That's what I shall do it all
for. Good-by!"

She put the paper bag down on the bureau for the greater convenience of
embracing Cornelia.

"Why don't you stay and have breakfast with me?" Cornelia asked.
"You'll be sick."

"Breakfast? And ruin everything! I would rather _never_ have any
breakfast!" She took up the paper bag again, and explored it with an
eager hand, while she stared absently at Cornelia. "Ah! I _thought_
there was one left! What mites of things." She put the last ginger-snap
into her mouth, and with a flying kiss to Cornelia as she passed, she
flashed out of the door, and down the stairs.

XXV.

After all, Ludlow decided that he would paint Charmian in her own
studio, with the accessories of her peculiar pose in life about her;
they were factitious, but they were genuine expressions of her
character; he could not realize her so well away from there.

The first afternoon was given to trying her in this light and that, and
studying her from different points. She wished to stand before her
easel, in her Synthesis working-dress, with her palette on her thumb,
and a brush in her other hand. He said finally, "Why not?" and Cornelia
made a tentative sketch of her.

At the end of the afternoon he waited while the girl was putting on her
hat in Charmian's room, where she smiled into the glass at Charmian's
face over her shoulder, thinking of the intense fidelity her friend had
shown throughout to her promise of unconsciousness.

"Didn't I do it magnificently?" Charmian demanded. "It almost killed
me; but I meant to do it if it did kill me; and now his offering to see
you aboard the car shows that _he_ is determined to do it, too, if it