I'm putting the finishing touches upon
my picture now before I take it back to town. I go away to-morrow,
perhaps to North Wales, perhaps to Scotland."
Elma trembled a little at those words, in spite of resolution;
for though she could never, never, never marry him, it was nice,
of course, to feel he was near at hand, and to have the chance of
seeing him, and avoiding him as far as possible, on other people's
lawns at garden parties. She trembled and turned pale. She could
never MARRY him, to be sure; but then she could never marry any
one else either; and that being so, she liked to SEE him now and
again, on neutral ground, as it were, and to know he was somewhere
that she could meet him occasionally. Wales and Scotland are
so distant from Surrey. Elma showed in her face at once that she
thought them both unpleasantly remote from Craighton, Tilgate.
With timid and shrinking steps, she came in front of the picture,
and gazed at it in detail long and attentively. Never before did
she know how fond she was of art.
"It's beautiful," she said, after a pause; "I like it immensely.
That moss is so soft, and the ferns are so delicate. And how lovely
that patch of rich golden light is on Sardanapalus's shoulder.
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