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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 t