"Ain't I?" he said, with a laugh. "Austin often says that the things I know would go into half a sheet of note-paper, and the things I don't would more than fill the reading-room at the British Museum. But one thing I know, Madge, and that is that I love you with all my heart and soul."
"I'll forgive you all the rest!" she murmured.
She was painting the picture the earl had commissioned, and she took up her brush and palette and worked, while Blair sat at her side, watching her with an admiring wonder, as the skillful hand conveyed the little bushy dell to the canvas.
"What a fuss they'll make about you when we are married," he said, after a pause.
Margaret bent forward to hide the blush which the words had called up.
"Who are they? And why should they make a fuss?" she asked.
"They? Oh, all the people, you know. They'll make no end of you, Madge. You see, you are so good-looking——"
She threatened him with her wet brush.
—"And then you are so clever, and this painting of yours will just finish them off. I shouldn't wonder if you are the leading item in the next season."
"The next season!" echoed Margaret, turning her eyes upon him.