t was not even a finished one,
and Billy did not in the least care what it was. But her lips cried
interestedly:

"Oh, Bertram, what is this?"

There was no answer. Bertram was still engaged, apparently, in putting
away some sketches. Over by the doorway leading to the den Marie and
Aunt Hannah, followed by William and Cyril, were just disappearing
behind a huge easel. In another minute the merry chatter of their voices
came from the room beyond. Bertram hurried then straight across the
studio to the girl still bending over the sketch in the corner.

"Bertram!" gasped Billy, as a kiss brushed her cheek.

"Pooh! They're gone. Besides, what if they did see? Billy, what was the
matter with the tilt of that chin?"

Billy gave an hysterical little laugh--at least, Bertram tried to assure
himself that it was a laugh, though it had sounded almost like a sob.

"Bertram, if you say another word about--about the tilt of that chin, I
shall _scream!_" she panted.

"Why, Billy!"

With a nervous little movement Billy turned and began to reverse the
canvases nearest her.

"Come, sir," she commanded gayly. "Billy has been on exhibition
quite long enough. It is high time she was turned face to the wall to
meditate, and grow more modest."

Bertram did not answer. Neither did he make a move to assist her. His
ardent gray eyes were following her slim, graceful figure admiringly.

"Billy, it doesn't seem true, yet, that you're really mine," he said at
last, in a low voice shaken with emotion.

Billy turned abruptly. A peculiar radiance shone in her eyes and
glorified her face. As she stood, she was close to a picture on an easel
and full in the soft glow of the shaded lights above it.

"Then you _do_ want me," she began, "--just _me!_--not to--" she stopped
short. The man opposite had taken an eager step toward her. On his
face was the look she knew so well, the look she had come almost to
dread--the "painting look."

"Billy, stand just as you are," he was saying. "Don't move. Jove! But
that effect is perfect with those dark shadows beyond, and just your
hair and face and throat showing. I declare, I've half a mind to
sketch--" But Billy, with a little cry, was gone.

CHAPTER X

A JOB FOR PETE--AND FOR BERTRAM

The early days in December were busy ones, certainly, in the little
house on Corey Hill. Marie was to be married the twelfth. It was to be
a home wedding, and a very simple one--according to Billy, and acc