"I'm going to begin Monday," replied Ernestine.
"Good! Painting some great picture?"
She hesitated. "I hope it will be a great picture."
"Tell me about it."
"I can tell you better, dear, when it is a little farther along."
"You love your work, Ernestine. You have the real, true, fundamental love for it. I always loved to see your face light up when you spoke of your work. Is your face lighted up now?" he asked, a little whimsically, but earnestly.
She laughed, but the laugh caught in her throat.
"Will you tell me about your picture as it progresses, dear? Don't be afraid to talk to me of your work, Ernestine. Things will be less hard for me, if I think you are happy. And it will be good to know there is to be some great thing come of our love, dear. I want something to stand for it, something beautiful and great."
"There will be!" she said passionately. "There is going to be."
"I know," he said gently. "I am sure of it."