your seat, please, and allowing me to study your physiognomy again?"
He obeyed reluctantly, and for a time the work continued in silence;Jill was too engrossed to talk, and Markham apparently had no desire to.He sat quite motionless watching her with a strained, intent,unfathomable expression in his glance that Jill in unconscious accuracywas transmitting to the painted eyes on the canvas, though theexpression was by no means habitual to him, and gave the portrait anunlifelike appearance. She shook her head over it despondently, andstood back from the easel in order to take a better look.
"I must leave the eyes alone to-day," she said, "I am making a muddle ofthem. They are your eyes, and yet they are not yours. I don'tunderstand it."
"Oh, bother the portrait," he exclaimed. "Put it up for to-day andlet's talk."
"It wouldn't get finished very quickly at that rate," she answered.
"I don't want it finished quickly," he said.
"No?" Jill's tone was expressive of surprise, and she looked at himvery straightly as she spoke. "What are you going to do with it when it_is_ finished?" she asked.
"Give it to you if you will accept it."
"Don't be ridiculous! that's not what you had it painted for."
"Now, how do you know that?" he enquired. He had risen, and comingforward took the palette and paint brushes out of her hand; then,receiving no remonstrance, he began to untie the strings of her paintingapron.
"Shut up shop for to-day," he pleaded. "I am going to stay to tea."
It was rather an unfortunate moment for St. John to choose for puttingin an appearance. Had he been married as many years as he had months itwould not have mattered, but under existing circumstances it wasregrettable that he should open the door when he did Jill, allunconscious of the suspicious proximity of Mr Markham's arm to hershoulder, smiled serenely as she encountered St. John's sharp, surprisedglance, and noting that he looked displeased, presumed that he had spenta wearisome afternoon in the studio.
"Leisurable at last?" she queried cheerfully. "I am so glad, dear.Come and make yourself agreeable while I see about the kettle; MrMarkham is going to stay to tea."
"Sorry, but I can't," he answered shortly. "I have to be in the darkroom in a few minutes, and have enough developing to keep me engaged forsome time. How's the sitting getting on? You don't appear to be verybusy. Is Markham tired already?"
"We've been at it a solid three quarters of an hour," rejoined Markhamaggrieved, "and as for not being busy, look at the canvas, man."
St. John did look; he stood a little way off, and studied it earnestlyfor several minutes, but he did not speak.
"Well, what do you think of it?" enquired the other.
"I never presume to criticise Jill's work until it is finished," heanswered. "At present I don't like it."
"Neither do I," acquiesced Jill, "that's why I was not loth to give upfor to-day. It's the eyes, I think; they have a sinister expressionthat makes him look like a stage villain. And yet I'm sure theexpression was there at the time."
"I hope not," St. John rejoined, looking fixedly at his friend in arather disconcerting manner; "the eyes never lie, you know."
Jill took the canvas down from the easel and leaned it with its facehidden against the wall.
"Don't utter uncomfortable platitudes," she remarked. "If you can't bemore cheerful I hope you'll retire to your dark room speedily; MrMarkham and I were enjoying ourselves till you came."
To her surprise he took her literally, and, muttering something about`sorry to be a wet blanket,' wheeled about abruptly and left the room.Jill looked at Markham, and her eyes were both angry and concerned.
"I can't think what's the matter with Jack," she said halfapologetically; "he is not often such a bear. Do you know that I thinkyou had almost better not stay this evening. It wouldn't be veryhilarious if he were in that mood, would it?"
"Of course I won't stay; I was only joking. Jack is a bit huffed aboutsomething no doubt, but you'll soon coax him into a better temper," heresponded, "I'll come to-morrow for another sitting, shall I?"
"No," Jill answered slowly; "the same day and hour next week, if youplease."
On the following Tuesday when Markham turned up for the arranged sittinghe found Jill alone as on the former occasion, St. John having purposelygone out to spend the afternoon with Evie Bolton. The latter hadwritten to him during the past week asking him if he could manage tomeet her somewhere as she had something of importance to impart to him,and St. John, in his fit of suddenly awakened jealousy had settled onthe day that Jill had fixed upon for the second sitting, taking a verymalicious satisfaction in her evident annoyance when he stated hisintention. She said little enough at the time, but her manner betrayedher vexation, and the strained relationship that had existed betweenthem during the past few days grew more apparent. When Markham arrived,she was feeling more hurt than angry, and her mood was softened andsubdued, and nearer akin to tears than it had been since her marriage.
"Jack has gone out," she said in answer to his enquiry, not so muchexplanatorily, but because she felt she must say something, and that wasthe only thing she could think of at the moment. It was the onemiserable refrain that kept repeating itself in her mind--"Jack has goneout--back to his own people."
"He won't be home till late," she went on apathetically. "He said hewas going to take a journey into the past, and forget the sordid presentfor a time. I don't think it altogether wise of him, do you? Where isthe use in looking back when the sordid present has to be lived through,and the uncertain future to be faced?"
"Mrs St. John," Markham answered gravely. "St. John--_our_ St. Johnwas never wise; the only noteworthy action of his life was when hemarried you."
"Ah!" said Jill with a very pathetic smile, "I often fancy that that wasthe most unwise thing he ever did."
Markham looked at her speculatively, and failed to make an immediatereply. Was it St. John, himself, who had given her cause to think so,he wondered. Was she finding out so soon that their marriage had been amistake?
"You are depressed," he said, leaning towards her, his hands lightlygrasping the arms of his chair. "It isn't good for you to feel likethat. Jack is a brute to leave you to yourself. What can I do to cheeryou up, I wonder? After all we are both in the same boat; for if youare lonely, so am I."
"_You_!" echoed Jill in a tone which implied that her listener did notknow what loneliness meant. "How can you talk of loneliness? At leastyou have Evie--"
"No," he interrupted shortly; "Evie is nothing to me, and less thannothing. She is engaged to marry a marquis. I should have thought youwould have heard of that by now."
At his words, Jill's face visibly brightened. It flashed upon her witha certain amount of conviction that this was why her husband had gone tohis cousin; possibly she had sent for him to consult him on the subject,and the trouble that had oppressed her lightened instantly with thethought. How could she have doubted him even for a moment? But heought to have taken her into his confidence; it was a mistake to make asecret of so simple a thing.
Markham misinterpreted the sudden brightening of her countenance, andwhen in her impulsive, sympathetic way she laid her small fingerscompassionately over his, he grasped the little hand feverishly betweenboth his eager palms, and held it against his breast while he drew hernearer to him and stared into her face with burning, compelling eyes.She thought his manner strange but pardonable under the circumstances.
"I am so sorry," she said gently, "so very sorry."
"Sorry for what?" he asked.
"Oh, the--the--your disappointment," she rejoined with an awkwarddeepening of the colour in her cheeks. She felt that she was getting onto delicate ground, and did not know very well how to proceed; but herelieved the situation by a short, impatient laugh.
"There wasn't any disappointment," he returned. "You must have knownthat I was off that long ago. Don't humbug, Jill; you must haveperceived that ever since I knew you I have cared for no one else. Ish
ould not have mentioned it only I see now that you care a littlealso--that your marriage is not altogether a success. You are lonely aswell as I, dear. Why not let us console one another?"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
For a few seconds Jill sat mute, too thoroughly taken by surprise evento move. No lurking suspicion had ever entered her pure, wholesome,unspoilt mind that any man could so insult a decent woman. Even then itstruck her that in some way she must have unconsciously given him anopening.