“Oh, that cannot be so. Why, we have known one another for ages. I can scarcely remember the time when I didn’t know you, Elfie.”
“It was that day when I was getting the pussywillows, that we met,” said Elizabeth reminiscently, “and you were painting in the field.”
Mr. Kemp turned and began to rummage behind some portfolios. Presently he brought out a canvas. “And here it is,” he said. “It is better than I thought, although I like that first real study I made of you later on. I say, Elfie, how do you think this would do for Miss Jewett’s wedding present?”
“Oh, I am sure she would love it,” cried Elizabeth, well pleased at the suggestion. “She was so delighted with the pussywillows, and kept them on her desk as long as they lasted.”
“And she wouldn’t object to the presence in the picture of the one who gathered them, you think?” Mr. Kemp looked up with a little half smile.
“Oh Mr. Titian, what a tease you are. I am sure she would not mind, and as for myself it would make me ecstatic to think that I was there and that every time she looked at the picture she would see me.”
“Then, my dear Elfie, consider the picture yours.”
“What? You don’t mean that you are going to give it to me to give to her?” Elizabeth jumped up in sheer delight.
“Why, what else?”
“I thought you meant you, yourself, were going to give it. Oh Mr. Titian, I think it is too much for you to do. I don’t think I ought to take it.”