Do you want to ruin his career?
As if now he could spend all his time and give all his thoughts to you! But I--I just hate that Art!" "What did you say, Billy ?" asked William, in mild surprise, coming around the turn of the balustrade in the hall above.

"Were you speaking to me, my dear ?" Billy looked up.

Her face cleared suddenly, and she laughed--though a little ruefully.
"No, Uncle William, I wasn't talking to you," she sighed.

"I was just--just administering first aid to the injured," she finished, as she whisked into her own room.
"Well, well, bless the child! What can she mean by that ?" puzzled Uncle William, turning to go down the stairway.
Bertram began to paint a very little the next day.

He painted still more the next, and yet more again the day following.