"A bit of pure inspiration," he said at last. "It lives and breathes!"
"That is your doing, more than mine. And I am glad it pleases you; for it is a present, and—a confession!"
"You did it simply for me?"
"For who else, in earth or heaven, dear and dense one?" she demanded, laughing; and was effectually put to silence. "Wasn't it just like me to throw all my heart into a portrait of myself?" she added, as he released her.
"It was enchanting of you; that's all I know. But see here, lass, there must be no question of murdering half your personality on my account. I am grasping. I want both of you,—artist and woman."
"Dear heart, you've taken arbitrary possession of as many of me as there are! And indeed, I'd be puzzled to swear to the exact number. I seem to have let you in for three sorts of wives already! But seriously, Eldred, I have come to one conclusion in the long months I have had for thinking things over. I believe you were right in saying it might be best for me to give up painting men's portraits. Not altogether: I don't think I could, unless you insisted! But I won't make it a speciality, as I have done; and I'll be more circumspect in my methods, and in my choice of subjects. Will that do?"
He looked full at her for a moment; his keen eyes melting into wells of tenderness.
"My darling—what's come to you?" was all he said.
"A spirit of understanding, I hope," she answered sweetly. "But you'll find plenty of the old unreasonable Quita effervescing underneath! Par exemple—on the heels of my great renunciation, the first thing I want to do is a portrait of Major Desmond for my dear Honor,—if I may?"
"If you may! What next?" But being a man and human, he was obviously
gratified. "You could suggest nothing that would please me better.
You'll make a fine thing of it; and as for your methods, 'get inside'
Desmond for all you're worth. You'll do no harm in that quarter!"