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 Boultby's disciple. Yet of a sudden, in a fashion so unexpected as to verge upon drama, her own voice took that soft quick fall he had taught her the trick of.

"I can't tell you how much I love it," she said, dreamily. "I would give almost anything if it were mine."

William's limpid glance betrayed that he was only too happy to believe her.

"It is quite as beautiful to me as it is to you." June plunged on, but she did not dare to look at him. "And I think it would be a terrible pity if it ever came to be sold by Uncle Si. I simply love it. Suppose you sell it to me?"

"To you, Miss June!"

"Yes—to me." There was swift decision and the fixing of the will. "I like it so much that I'll give you nineteen pounds for it, and that's all I have in the world."

William was astonished.

"I hadn't realised," he said, in charmed surprise, "that you admire it so much as all that."

"Yes, I do admire it." Her heart beat fast and high. "And I want it. I can't tell you just what that picture means to me. But nineteen pounds is all I can pay."

He shook his head in slow finality.

She did not try to conceal her disappointment.

"I couldn't think of taking a penny of your money," he said, shyly. "But as you love it so much, I hope you will allow me to give it you."

She gave a little gasp. An act of such pure generosity was rather staggering.

"I hope you will, Miss June." He spoke with a delicious embarrassment. "Loving it so much really