ew trunk the lovely things which had been
selected. And one day, thrilled but bewildered, she went into the
studio, where Barres sat opening his mail, and confessed her fear that
only lifelong devotion in his service could ever liquidate her
overwhelming financial obligations to him.

He had begun to laugh when she opened the subject:

"Thessa is managing it," he said. "It looks like a lot of expense, but
it isn't. Don't worry about it, Sweetness."

"I _do_ worry----"

"Now, what a ridiculous thing to do!" he interrupted. "It's merely
advanced salary--your own money. I told you to blow it; I'm
responsible. And I shall arrange it so you won't notice that you are
repaying the loan. All I want you to do is to have a good time about
it."

"I am having a good time--when it doesn't scare me to spend so much
for----"

"Can't you trust Thessa and me?"

The girl dropped to her knees beside his chair in a swift passion of
gratitude:

"Oh, I trust you--I do----" But she could not utter another word, and
only pressed her face against his arm in the tense silence of emotions
which were too powerful to express, too deep and keen to comprehend or
to endure.

And she sprang to her feet, flushed, confused, turning from him as he
retained one hand and drew her back:

"Dear child," he said, in his pleasant voice, "this is really a
very little thing I do for you, compared to the help you have
given me by hard, unremitting, uncomplaining physical labour and
endurance. There is no harder work than holding a pose for painter
or sculptor--nothing more cruelly fatiguing. Add to that your
cheerfulness, your willingness, your quiet, loyal, unobtrusive
companionship--and the freshness and inspiration and interest ever
new which you always awake in me--tell me, Sweetness, are you really
in my debt, or am I in yours?"

"I am in yours. You made me."

"You always say that. It's foolish. You made yourself, Dulcie. You are
making yourself all the while. Why, good heavens!--if you hadn't had
it in you, somehow, to ignore your surroundings--take the school
opportunities offered you--close your eyes and ears to the sights and
sounds and habits of what was supposed to be your home----"

He checked himself, thinking of Soane, and his brogue, and his
ignorance and his habits.

"How the devil you escaped it all I can't understand," he muttered to
himself. "Even when I first knew you, there was nothing resembling
your--your father about you