"You'd much better have your breakfast now," she said, "and go on working afterwards; but I suppose, as usual, you will let everything get cold and nasty. Eggs and bacon and cold grouse. I'm going to begin."
Margery helped herself to eggs and bacon, and poured out some tea; but she had scarcely caught the flavor of her first sip when Frank suddenly left his canvas and sat down by her.
"I'm tired," he said, "and my hand is heavy."
"It will be lighter after breakfast," said Margery, cheerfully. "Eat, Frank."
"No, I shall eat soon. I want to sit by you and look at you. Margery darling, what a trial it must be to have me for a husband!"
There was something very wistful and pathetic in his voice, and Margery felt moved.
"Ah, Frank," she said, "I don't find it so."
Frank was looking at her with eager eyes, as a dog looks at his master. He had taken up her hand, and was stroking it gently with his long, nervous fingers. Suddenly he jumped up.
"I see, I see," he said. "I have been drawing something that wasn't me at all. I can do it now. Margery, will you come and stand very close to me, so that when I look in the glass I can see you too?"
Margery rose from her half-eaten breakfast, and went across the room to where his easel was.