"Oh, I don't know that _I'm_ any use," replied Will, with a laugh. "I
speak with no authority. But you--yes. _You_ might do much. More than
any one else possibly could."

"That is exaggerating, Mr. Warburton," said Rosamund. "Even in the old
days my influence didn't go for much. You speak of the 'revolution'
caused by--by what happened; but the truth is that the revolution had
begun before that. Remember I saw 'Sanctuary' while he was painting it,
and, but we won't talk of that."

"To tell you the truth," returned Warburton, meeting her eyes steadily,
with his pleasantest look, "I saw no harm in 'Sanctuary.' I think he
was quite right to do what he could to earn money. He wanted to be
married; he had waited quite long enough; if he hadn't done something
of the kind, I should have doubted whether he was very much in earnest.
No, no; what I call the revolution began when he had lost all hope. At
the time he would have given up painting altogether, I believe; if it
hadn't been that he owed me money, and knew I wanted it."

Rosamund made a quick movement of interest.

"I never heard about that."

"Franks wouldn't talk about it, be sure. He saw me in a hobble--I lost
everything, all at once--and he went to work like a brick to get money
for me. And that, when he felt more disposed to poison himself than to
paint. Do you think I should criticise the work he did under these
circumstances?"

"No, indeed! Thank you, Mr. Warburton, for telling me that story."

"How exquisite London is at this time of the year!" Rosamund murmured,
as having declared it was time to be walking homewards, they walked
slowly towards the bridge. "I'm glad not to be going away. Look at that
lovely sky! Look at the tones of those houses.-- Oh, I _must_ make use
of it all! Real use, I mean, as splendid material for art, not only for
money-making. Do advise me, Mr. Warburton. Where shall I go to look for
bits?"

Walking with bent head, Will reflected.

"Do you know Camberwell?" he asked. "There are good little corners--"

"I don't know it at all. Could you--I'm afraid to ask. You couldn't
spare time--?"

"Oh yes, easily. That's to say, during certain hours."

"On Monday say? In the afternoon?"

"Yes."

"How kind of you!" murmured Rosamund. "If I were only an amateur,
amusing myself, I couldn't give you the trouble; but it's serious I
_must_ earn money before long. You see, there's nothing else I can do.
My sister--you know I have a sister