Rudyard Kipling 8] hour of working light. Overwork’s only murderous idleness. Don’t be unreasonable. I’ll call for you tomorrow after breakfast early.” “But surely you are going to ask —” “No, I am not. I want you and nobody else. Besides, she hates me as much as I hate her. She won’t care to come. Jomorrow, then; and pray that we get sunshine.” Dick went away delighted, and by consequence did no work whatever. He strangled a wild desire to order a special train, but bought a great gray kangaroo cloak lined with glossy black marten, and then retired into himself to consider things. “Tm going out for the day tomorrow with Dick,” said Maisie to the red-haired girl when the latter returned, tired, from marketing in the Edgware road. “He deserves it. I shall have the studio floor thoroughly scrubbed while you're away. It’s very dirty.” Maisie had enjoyed no sort of holiday for months and looked forward to the little excitement, but not without misgivings. “There’s nobody nicer than Dick when he talks sensibly, she though, but I’m sure he’ll be silly and worry me, and I’m sure | can’t tell him anything he’d like to hear. If he’d only be sensible, I should like him so much better.” Dick’s eyes were full of joy when he made his appearance next morning and saw Maisie, gray-ulstered and black-velvet-hatted, standing in the hallway. Palaces of marble, and not sordid imitation of grained wood, were surely the fittest background for such a divinity. The red-haired girl drew her into the studio for a moment and kissed her hurriedly. Maisie’s eyebrows climbed to the top of her forehead; she was altogether unused to these demonstrations. “Mind my hat,” she said, hurrying away, and ran down the steps to Dick waiting by the hansom.