it stirred him to
speech.

"I believe I _have_ won the whole of you at last--you very woman," he
said almost under his breath.

"And I know it," she answered in the same tone. "Do you remember
saying that day you were angry: 'If you _will_ make it a case of
mastery----!' Well, it is a case of mastery--absolute and permanent."

She spoke truth. At that moment, and indeed for many years after, she
would have walked, at his bidding, into the heart of a furnace. He
drew her close again.

"No, no, lass. I hope it's a case of love and comradeship on an equal
footing,--as you have seen it in this house; the rarest thing in the
world between a man and woman."

Her smile brought into play the dimple that he loved.

"How one needs you at every turn, to keep the balance of things! But
come over to my easel. I have something to show you."

Very deliberately she lifted the draperies that hid the picture, and a
low sound broke from him. Then he stood gazing upon it,--absorbed,
captivated; and whereas, a moment since, the woman had triumphed, now
all the artist in her thrilled at his tribute of silence, knowing it
for the highest praise.

"A bit of pure inspiration," he said at last. "It lives and breathes!"

"That is your doing, more than mine. And I am glad it pleases you; for
it is a present, and--a confession!"

"You did it simply for me?"

"For who else, in earth or heaven, dear and dense one?" she demanded,
laughing; and was effectually put to silence. "Wasn't it just like me
to throw all my heart into a portrait of myself?" she added, as he
released her.

"It was enchanting of you; that's all _I_ know. But see here, lass,
there must be no question of murdering half your personality on my
account. I am grasping. I want both of you,--artist and woman."

"Dear heart, you've taken arbitrary possession of as many of me as
there are! And indeed, I'd be puzzled to swear to the exact number. I
seem to have let you in for three sorts of wives already! But
seriously, Eldred, I have come to one conclusion in the long months I
have had for thinking things over. I believe you were right in saying
it might be best for me to give up painting men's portraits. Not
altogether: I don't think I could, unless you insisted! But I won't
make it a speciality, as I have done; and I'll be more circumspect in
my methods, and in my choice of subjects. Will that do?"

He looked full at her for a moment; his keen eyes