"Money!"
"We do find it useful, you know," insisted Franks, with a certain obstinacy.
Rosamund was standing before the picture, and gazing at it.
"That she should have no higher ambition! Poor Bertha!"
"We can't all achieve ambitions," cried Franks from the other end of the room. "Not every girl can marry a popular portrait-painter."
"A great artist!" exclaimed his wife, with emphasis.
As she moved slowly away, she kept her look still turned upon the face which smiled from the easel. Watching her tremulous eyebrows, her uncertain lips, one might have fancied that Rosamund sought the solution of some troublesome doubt, and hoped, only hoped, to find it in that image of herself so daringly glorified.