There was a glad light in Madge's eyes then. He so seldom did this, except for good-night and good-morning, that she knew what it meant. She was very silent for a few minutes, then sprang up, exclaiming, "Now we must have tea, and then you have your etching to do, and I am going to pay up the rent, and then I'll read to you, and do my sums."
CHAPTER III.
THE FEVER.
ND Raymond did work. Madge watched him with hopeful pride, and seldom stirred from his side. Their small store of money was nearly gone, and there seemed but little likelihood of a fresh supply.
Raymond's hopes were bound up in the picture he was then engaged upon. If only he could finish that, he felt sure that he could sell it. There was a feverish light in his eyes, a burning flush upon his cheeks, while he worked. He spoke seldom; but Madge saw him raise his hand sometimes to his forehead as if in pain. The picture was nearly done, and Raymond looked up for a minute one morning, and saw that the sun was shining brightly down on the sea of roofs and chimney-pots which for the most part constituted the view from their garret window, and then he said to Madge, "Go out, and get a breath of fresh air; it is stifling work for you to be always up here."