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 drained the vessel at a draught. She was a graceful little figure in her straight blue apron, very quiet and demure beside the tropical splendor of the young man who had come to pose for her Milanion. When he had quenched his thirst she welcomed him gravely; and taking the orange-branch from him, fastened it against the wall.

"You have brought me the golden apples of the Hesperides. I am not ready to model them yet; they will keep longer than the spirits which make you so fit a subject for my Milanion to-day. It is long since you have been here. Do not tell me of the time or the trouble which has come between; it is enough you understand that you can serve me only when you are as you are to-day."

His face was a trifle graver after she had said these words; but he took the familiar attitude, and his identity was soon lost to Margaret as she became absorbed in her work. She wrought long and steadily. The General came and sat beside her, watching the quick skilful moulding of the clay in her hands,—work he would have given all his worldly possessions to be able to do. And later came Mrs. Harden, whom Margaret had not seen since the night of the ball. The excursion to the Rondelet plantation had been postponed indefinitely, and Margaret had managed to avoid Mrs. Harden, as well as