"And I--I took you for----"
"Something very different than what I am."
"In one way--not in others."
"Oh! I look the mountebank?"
"I shall not explain what I mean," she said with heightened color, and rose from her chair. "As there are no more green mice to peep out at me from behind my easel," she added, "I can have no excuse from abandoning art any longer. Can I?"
The trailing sweetness of the inquiry was scarcely a challenge, yet he dared take it up.
"You asked me," he said, "whether you could do anything for me."
"Can I?" she exclaimed.
"Yes."
"I will--I am glad--tell me what to do?"