laughed the girl, gaily. "No one wants to look at his own picture."
"Then will you, in return, do me a picture of yourself? If you have mine, it's only fair I should have yours, don't ye know?"
She stared at him. "I could never paint my own portrait." Then she turned away, and deliberately wiped her brushes. "Of course, if you had rather I did not keep yours, it is better I should destroy it," she added, with her back towards him.
"No, you mustn't do that. I am awfully pleased that you should wish to keep my portrait; and if you'll let me sit again, perhaps you'll get on better with it. I may be able to return here in about a fortnight or three weeks."
"Then I will turn its face to the wall, as you suggest, and not look at it till then."
He went away that afternoon. Mrs. Shaw drove him to the station after luncheon, during which the conversation was general; the parrot, from his perch, taking a prominent part in it. Uncle William shook his guest cordially by the hand at parting, and bade him telegraph when he could return to Farley. They were not going to leave home this spring. He might run up for the Derby; but Mrs. Shaw had decided not to take a house in London this season, as her niece had no wish to go into society. If they were inclined in June, they might go to an hotel for a week; but this was uncertain, and in the mean time he hoped to see the colonel again at Farley. Between Elizabeth and him nothing passed but a few commonplace words as they shook hands. Then he
