in the street; at least she was no judge of character if the event proved otherwise. A means of livelihood must be sought at once. That afternoon's experience of Oxford Street had opened up new vistas, which, however, might lead nowhere. But even if she could not get employment in a shop Mr. Keller's offer of work as an artist's model at five shillings an hour must not be lightly put aside.
The first thing to be done, however, was to clinch William's gift of the picture once and for all. She made up her mind that it should be fully consummated before the return of Uncle Si from Newbury.
As soon as William had been given his tea she broached the subject. But when she asked for possession, there and then, his crest fell.
"I was still hoping, Miss June," the simpleton owned, "that you'd let the dear old master have this lovely thing. It has come to mean so much to him, you see. I will get another one for you."
"Not another Van Roon," said June, sharply.
"No, I'm afraid I couldn't promise a Van Roon." A cloud passed over William's face. "But I might be able to pick up something quite good, which perhaps you would come to like as much."
June shook a disconsolate head.
"I don't think," she said, in a slow voice, as she fixed her eyes on the wall in front of her, "there is another picture in the world I should value so much as that one. I simply love that picture."
William was troubled.
"The old master loves it, too."
"But you gave it me, you know." June was painfully conscious of a swift deepening of colour.
