turned；　but　he　could　not　see　her　face　distinctly。
  Twilight　had　come；　and　the　room　was　full　of
  shadows。　　He　hesitated；　then　went　on；　a　little
  more　quietly。
  ‘‘That's　why　I've　told　you　all　thisso　you
  would　help　me。　　And　you　will；　won't　you？''
  There　was　no　answer。　　Once　again　he　tried　to
  see　her　face；　but　it　was　turned　now　quite　away
  from　him。
  ‘‘You've　been　a　big　help　already；　little　girl。
  Your　friendship；　your　comradeshipthey've
  been　everything　to　me。　　You're　not　going　to　make
  me　do　without　themnow？''
  ‘‘Nooh；　no！''　The　answer　was　low　and　a
  little　breathless；　but　he　heard　it。
  ‘‘Thank　you。　　I　knew　you　wouldn't。''　　He
  paused；　then　rose　to　his　feet。　　When　he　spoke
  again　his　voice　carried　a　note　of　whimsical
  lightness　that　was　a　little　forced。　　‘‘But　I　must　go
  else　you　_will_　take　them　from　me；　and　with　good
  reason。　　And　please　don't　let　your　kind　heart
  grieve　too　muchover　me。　　I'm　no　deep…dyed
  villain　in　a　melodrama；　nor　wicked　lover　in　a　ten…
  penny　novel；　you　know。　　I'm　just　an　everyday
  man　in　real　life；　and　we're　going　to　fight　this　thing
  out　in　everyday　living。　　That's　where　your　help
  is　coming　in。　　We'll　go　together　to　see　Mrs。　Bertram
  Henshaw。　　She's　asked　us　to；　and　you'll　do
  it；　I　know。　　We'll　have　music　and　everyday　talk。
  We'll　see　Mrs。　Bertram　Henshaw　in　her　own　home
  with　her　husband；　where　she　belongs；　andI'm
  not　going　to　run　again。　　ButI'm　counting　on
  your　help；　you　know；''　he　smiled　a　little　wistfully；
  as　he　held　out　his　hand　in　good…by。
  One　minute　later　Alice　Greggory；　alone；　was
  hurrying　up…stairs。
  ‘‘I　can'tI　can'tI　know　I　can't；''　she　was
  whispering　wildly。　　Then；　in　her　own　room；　she
  faced　herself　in　the　mirror。　　‘‘Yesyoucan；
  Alice　Greggory；''　she　asserted；　with　swift　change
  of　voice　and　manner。　　‘‘This　is　_your_　tiger　skin；
  and　you're　going　to　fight　it。　　Do　you　understand？
  fight　it！　　And　you're　going　to　win；　too。　　Do　you
  want　that　man　to　know　you_care_？''
  CHAPTER　VI
  ‘‘THE　PAINTING　LOOK''
  It　was　toward　the　last　of　October　that　Billy
  began　to　notice　her　husband's　growing　restlessness。
  Twice；　when　she　had　been　playing　to　him；
  she　turned　to　find　him　testing　the　suppleness　of
  his　injured　arm。　　Several　times；　failing　to　receive
  an　answer　to　her　questions；　she　had　looked　up　to
  discover　him　gazing　abstractedly　at　nothing　in
  particular。
  They　read　and　walked　and　talked　together；　to
  be　sure；　and　Bertram's　devotion　to　her　lightest
  wish　was　beyond　question；　but　more　and　more
  frequently　these　days　Billy　found　him　hovering
  over　his　sketches　in　his　studio；　and　once；　when　he
  failed　to　respond　to　the　dinner…bell；　search
  revealed　him　buried　in　a　profound　treatise　on　‘‘The
  Art　of　Foreshortening。''
  Then　came　the　day　when　Billy；　after　an　hour's
  vain　effort　to　imprison　within　notes　a　tantalizing
  melody；　captured　the　truant　and　rain　down　to　the
  studio　to　tell　Bertram　of　her　victory。
  But　Bertram　did　not　seem　even　to　hear　her。
  True；　he　leaped　to　his　feet　and　hurried　to　meet　her；
  his　face　radiantly　aglow；　but　she　had　not　ceased
  to　speak　before　he　himself　was　talking。
  ‘‘Billy；　Billy；　I've　been　sketching；''　he　cried。
  ‘‘My　hand　is　almost　steady。　　See；　some　of　those
  lines　are　all　right！　　I　just　picked　up　a　crayon
  and''　　He　stopped　abruptly；　his　eyes　on　Billy's
  face。　　A　vaguely　troubled　shadow　crossed　his
  own。　　‘‘Diddid　youwere　you　saying　anything
  inin　particular；　when　you　came　in？''　he
  stammered。
  For　a　short　half…minute　Billy　looked　at　her
  husband　without　speaking。　　Then；　a　little　queerly；
  she　laughed。
  ‘‘Oh；　no；　nothing　at　all　in　_particular_；''　she
  retorted　airily。　　The　next　moment；　with　one　of　her
  unexpected　changes　of　manner；　she　darted　across
  the　room；　picked　up　a　palette；　and　a　handful　of
  brushes　from　the　long　box　near　it。　　Advancing
  toward　her　husband　she　held　them　out　dramatically。
  ‘‘And　now　paint；　my　lord；　paint！''　she
  commanded　him；　with　stern　insistence；　as　she
  thrust　them　into　his　hands。
  Bertram　laughed　shamefacedly。
  ‘‘Oh；　I　say；　Billy；''　he　began；　but　Billy　had
  gone。
  Out　in　the　hall　Billy　was　speeding　up…stairs；
  talking　fiercely　to　herself。
  ‘‘We'll；　Billy　Neilson　Henshaw；　it's　come！
  Now　behave　yourself。　　_That　was　the　painting　look！_
  You　know　what　that　means。　　Remember；　he　belongs
  to　his　Art　before　he　does　to　you。　　Kate　and
  everybody　says　so。　　And　youyou　expected
  him　to　tend　to　you　and　your　silly　little　songs。　　Do
  you　want　to　ruin　his　career？　　As　if　now　he　could
  spend　all　his　time　and　give　all　his　thoughts　to
  you！　　But　II　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　laughedthough　a　little　ruefully。
  ‘‘No；　Uncle　William；　I　wasn't　talking　to　you；''
  she　sighed。　　‘‘I　was　justjust　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。　　He　was　like　a　bird　let
  out　of　a　cage；　so　joyously　alive　was　he。　　The　old
  sparkle　came　back　to　his　eye；　the　old　gay　smile　to
  his　lips。　　Now　that　they　had　come　back　Billy
  realized　what　she　had　not　been　conscious　of
  before：　that　for　several　weeks　past　they　had　not
  been　there；　and　she　wondered　which　hurt　the
  morethat　they　had　not　been　there　before；　or
  that　they　were　there　now。　　Then　she　scolded
  herself　roundly　for　asking　the　question　at　all。
  They　were　not　easythose　days　for　Billy；
  though　always　to　Bertram　she　managed　to　show
  a　cheerfully　serene　face。　　To　Uncle　William；　also；
  and　to　Aunt　Hannah　she　showed　a　smiling　countenance；
  and　because　she　could　not　talk　to　anybody
  else　of　her　feelings；　she　talked　to　herself。
  This；　however；　was　no　new　thing　for　Billy　to　do
  From　earliest　childhood　she　had　fought　things　out
  in　like　manner。
  ‘‘But　it's　so　absurd　of　you；　Billy　Henshaw；''
  she　berated　herself　one　day；　when　Bertram　had
  become　so　absorbed　in　his　work　that　he　had
  forgotten　to　keep　his　appointment　with　her　for　a
  walk。　　‘‘Just　because　you　have　had　his　constant
  attention　almost　every　hour　since　you　were　married
  is　no　reason　why　you　should　have　it　every
  hour　now；　when　his　arm　is　better！　　Besides；　it's
  exactly　what　you　said　you　wouldn't　doobject
  to　his　giving　proper　time　to　his　work。''
  ‘‘But　I'm　not　objecting；''　stormed　the　other
  half　of　herself。　　‘‘I'm　_telling_　him　to　do　it。　　It's
  only　that　he's　soso　_pleased_　to　do　it。　　He　doesn't
  seem　to　mind　a　bit　being　away　from　me。　　He's
  actually　happy！''
  ‘‘Well；　don't　you　want　him　to　be　happy　in　his
  work？　　Fie！　　For　shame！　　A　fine　artist's　wife　you
  are。　　It　seems　Kate　was　right；　then；　you　_are_　going
  to　spoil　his　career！''
  ‘‘Ho！''　quoth　Billy；　and　tossed　her　head。
  Forthwith　she　crossed　the　room　to　her　piano　and
  plumped　herself　down　hard　on　to　the　stool。　　Then；
  from　under　her　fingers　there　fell　a　rollicking　melody
  that　seemed　to　fill　the　room　with　little　dancing
  feet。　　Faster　and　faster　sped　Billy's　fingers；
  swifter　and　swifter　twinkled　the　little　dancing
  feet。　　Then　a　door　was　jerked　open；　and　Bertram's
  voice　called：
  ‘‘Billy！''
  The　music　stopped　instantly。　　Billy　sprang　from
  her　seat；　her　eyes　eagerly　seeking　the　direction
  from　which　had　come　the　voice。　　Perhaps_perhaps_
  Bertram　wanted　her。　　Perhaps　he　was　not
  going　to　paint　any　longer　that　morning；　after　all。
  ‘‘Billy！''　called　the　voice　again。　　‘‘Please；　do
  you　mind　stopping　that　playing　just　for　a　little
  while？　　I'm　a　brute；　I　know；　dear；　but　my　brush
  _will_　try　to　keep　time　with　that　crazy　little　tune　of
  yours；　and　you　know　my　hand　is　none　too　steady；
  anyhow；　and　when　it　tries　to　keep　up　with　that
  jiggety；　jig；　jig；　jiggety；　jig；　jig！　　_Do_　you　mind；；
  darling；　justjust　sewing；　or　doing　something
  still　for　a　while？''
  All　the　light　fled　from　Billy's　face；　but　her　voice；
  when　she　spoke；　was　the　quintessence　of　cheery
  indifference。
  ‘‘Why；　no；　of　course　not；　dear。''
  ‘‘Thank　you。　　I　knew　you　wouldn't；''　sighed
  Bertram。　　Then　the　door　shut。
  For　a　long　minute　Billy　stood　motionless　before
  she　glanced　at　her　watch　and　sped　to　the　telephone。
  ‘‘Is　Miss　Greggory　there；　Rosa？''　she　called
  when　the　operator's　ring　was　answered。
  ‘‘Mis'　Greggory；　the　lame　one？''
  ‘‘No；　_Miss_　GreggoryMiss　Alice。''
  ‘‘Oh！　　Yes'm。''
  ‘‘Then　won't　you　ask　her　to　come　to　the　telephone；
  please。''
  There　was　a　moment's　wait；　during　which　Billy's
  small；　well…shod　foot　beat　a　nervous　tattoo　on
  the　floor。
  ‘‘Oh；　is　that　you；　Alice？''　she　called　then。