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t just too sweet!" "Now for realism, I consider Henshaw--" "There aren't many with his sensitive, brilliant touch." "Oh, what a pretty picture!" William moved on then. Billy was rapturously proud of Bertram that evening. He was, of course, the centre of congratulations and hearty praise. At his side, Billy, with sparkling eyes, welcomed each smiling congratulation and gloried in every commendatory word she heard. "Oh, Bertram, isn't it splendid! I'm so proud of you," she whispered softly, when a moment's lull gave her opportunity. "They're all words, words, idle words," he laughed; but his eyes shone. "Just as if they weren't all true!" she bridled, turning to greet William, who came up at that moment. "Isn't it fine, Uncle William?" she beamed. "And aren't we proud of him?" "We are, indeed," smiled the man. "But if you and Bertram want to get the real opinion of this crowd, you should go and stand near one of his pictures five minutes. As a sort of crazy--quilt criticism it can't be beat." "I know," laughed Bertram. "I've done it, in days long gone." "Bertram, not really?" cried Billy. "Sure! As if every young artist at the first didn't don goggles or a false mustache and study the pictures on either side of his own till he could paint them with his eyes shut!" "And what did you hear?" demanded the girl. "What didn't I hear?" laughed her lover. "But I didn't do it but once or twice. I lost my head one day and began to argue the question of perspective with a couple of old codgers who were criticizing a bit of foreshortening that was my special pet. I forgot my goggles and sailed in. The game was up then, of course; and I never put them on again. But it was worth a farm to see their faces when I stood 'discovered' as the stage-folk say." "Serves you right, sir--listening like that," scolded Billy. Bertram laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it cured me, anyhow. I haven't done it since," he declared. It was some time later, on the way home, that Bertram said: "It was gratifying, of course, Billy, and I liked it. It would be absurd to say I didn't like the many pleasant words of apparently sincere appreciation I heard to-night. But I couldn't help thinking of the next time--always the next time." "The next time?" Billy's eyes were slightly puzzled. "That I exhibit, I mean. The Bohemian Ten hold their exhibition next month, you know. I shall show just one picture--the p
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