64 The Light That Failed ing stupidly. I can’t expect you to throw up all your life just because I’m back. I’ll go to my own place and wait a little.” “But, Dick, I don’t want you to — go — out of — my life, now you’ve just come back.” “I’m at your orders; forgive me.” Dick devoured the troubled little face with his eyes. There was triumph in them, because he could not conceive that Maisie should refuse sooner or later to love him, since he loved her. “It’s wrong of me,” said Maisie, more slowly than before; “it’s wrong and selfish; but, oh, ?ve been so lonely! No, you misunderstand. Now I’ve seen you again, — it’s absurd, but I want to keep you in my life.” “Naturally. We belong.” “We don’t; but you always understood me, and there is so much in my work that you could help me in. You know things and the ways of doing things. You must.” “T do, I fancy, or else I don’t know myself. Then you won't care to lose sight of me altogether, and — you want me to help you in your work?” “Yes; but remember, Dick, nothing will ever come of it. That’s why I feel so selfish. Can’t things stay as they are? I do want your help.” “You shall have it. But let’s consider. I must see your pics first, and overhaul your sketches, and find out about your tendencies. You should see what the papers say about my tendencies! Then I'll give you good advice, and you shall paint according. Isn’t that it, Maisie?” Again there was triumph in Dick’s eye. “It’s too good of you, — much too good. Because you are consoling yourself with what will never happen, and I know that, and yet I want to keep you. Don’t blame me later, please.” “I’m going into the matter with my eyes open. More