But I have not done so these many years. Who would think that of
me?--I who sing merry songs, and have danced and am gay--how well we wear
the mask, some of us!"

"I am sure," he said, "that there are better days coming for you. On my
soul I think it."

"But he is here," she said. "What for? I cannot think there will be
anything but misery when he crosses my path."

"That duel," he rejoined, the instinct of fairness natural to an honorable
man roused in him; "did you ever hear more than one side of it?"

"No; yet sometimes I have thought there might be more than one side.
Fairfax Detlor was a coward; and whatever that other was,"--she nodded to
the picture--"he feared no man."

"A minute!" he said "Let me make a sketch of it."

He got to work immediately. After the first strong outlines she rose, came
to him and said, "You know as much of it as I do--I will not stay any
longer."

He caught her fingers in his and held them for an instant. "It is brutal
of me. I did not stop to think what all this might cost you."

"If you paint a notable picture and gain honor by it, that is enough," she
said. "It may make you famous." She smiled a little wistfully. "You are
very ambitious. You needed, you said to me once, a simple but powerful
subject which you could paint in with some one's life' blood--that sounds
more dreadful than it is * * * well? * * * You said you had been
successful, but had never had an inspiration"--

"I have one!"

She shook her head. "Never an inspiration which had possessed you as you
ought to be to move the public * * * well? * * * do you think I have
helped you at all? I wanted so much to do something for you."

To Hagar's mind there came the remembrance of the pure woman who, to help
an artist, as poverty stricken as he was talented, engaged on the "Capture
of Cassandra," came into his presence as Lady Godiva passed through the
streets of Coventry, as hushed and as solemn. A sob shook in his
throat--he was of few but strong emotions; he reached out, took her
wrists in his hands, and held them hard. "I have my inspiration now," he
said; "I know that I can paint my one great picture. I shall owe all to
you. And for my gratitude, it seems little to say that I love you--I love
you, Marion."

She drew her hands away, turned her head aside, her face both white and
red. "Oh, hush, you must not say it!" she said. "You forget; do not make
me fear you and hate myself. * * * I wanted to be your frien