In another minute the merry chatter of their voices came from the room beyond.

Bertram hurried then straight across the studio to the girl still bending over the sketch in the corner.
"Bertram!" gasped Billy, as a kiss brushed her cheek.
"Pooh! They're gone.

Besides, what if they did see?
Billy, what was the matter with the tilt of that chin ?" Billy gave an hysterical little laugh--at least, Bertram tried to assure himself that it was a laugh, though it had sounded almost like a sob.
"Bertram, if you say another word about--about the tilt of that chin, I shall _scream!_" she panted.
"Why, Billy!" With a nervous little movement Billy turned and began to reverse the canvases nearest her.
"Come, sir," she commanded gayly.

"Billy has been on exhibition quite long enough.

It is high time she was turned face to the wall to meditate, and grow more modest." Bertram did not answer.