eachair,Mr.Rivers.”Butheanswered,ashealwaysdid,thathecouldnotstay.“Verywell,”Iresponded,mentally,“standifyoulike;butyoushallnotgojustyet,Iamdetermined:solitudeisatleastasbadforyouasitisforme.I’lltryifIotdiscoverthesecretspringofyourfidendfindaureinthatmarblebreastthroughwhichIshedonedropofthebalmofsympathy.”

    “Isthisportraitlike?”Iaskedbluntly.

    “Like!Likewhom?Ididnotobserveitclosely.”

    “Youdid,Mr.Rivers.”

    Healmoststartedatmysuddenandstrangeabruptness:helookedatmeastonished.“Oh,thatisnothi,”Imutteredwithin.“Idoobebaffledbyalittlestiffnessonyourpart;I’mpreparedtogotosiderablelengths.”Itinued,“Youobserveditcloselyanddistinctly;butIhavenoobjetoyourlookingatitagain,”andIroseandplaceditinhishand.

    “Awell-executedpicture,”hesaid;“verysoft,clearc;verygracefulandcorrectdrawing.”

    “Yes,yes;Iknowallthat.Butwhatoftheresemblance?Whoisitlike?”

    Masteringsomehesitation,heanswered,“MissOliver,Ipresume.”

    “Ofcourse.Andnow,sir,torewardyoufortheaccurateguess,Iwillpromisetopaintyouacarefulandfaithfulduplicateofthisverypicture,providedyouadmitthatthegiftwouldbeacceptabletoyou.Idon’twishtothrowawaymytimeandtroubleonanyouwoulddeemworthless.”

    Hetiogazeatthepicture:thelongerhelooked,thefirmerheheldit,themoreheseemedtocovetit.“Itislike!”hemurmured;“theeyeiswellmahecht,expression,areperfect.Itsmiles!”

    “Woulditfort,orwoulditwoundyoutohaveasimilarpainting?Tellmethat.WhenyouareatMadagascar,orattheCape,orinIndia,woulditbeasolationtohavethatmem