1 86 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 
hand tenderly and pulling 
at some white strands 
beneath the bandages. 
“ It’s something soft / 5 
said Delia, “ that had oil 
on it. Oh; Joe, did you 
sell another sketch ? ” 
She had seen the money 
on the table. 
“ Did I ? 55 said Joe. 
“ Just ask the man from 
Peoria. He got his station 
to-day, and he isn’t sure, 
but he thinks he wants 
another parkscape and a 
view on the Hudson. What 
time this afternoon did 
you burn your hand, 
Dele ? ” 
“ Five o’clock, I think,” 
said Delia, plaintively. 
“ The iron — I mean the 
rabbit came off the fire 
about that time. You 
ought to have seen General 
Pinkney, Joe, when ” 
“ Sit down here a 
moment, Dele,” said Joe. 
He drew her to the couch, 
sat beside her, and put his 
arm across her shoulders. 
“ What have you been 
doing for the last two 
weeks, Dele ? ” he asked. 
She braved it for a 
moment or two with an 
eye full of love and stub- 
bornness, and murmured 
a phrase or two vaguely 
of General Pinkney; but 
at length down went her 
head and out came the 
truth and tears. 
“ I couldn’t get any 
pupils,” she confessed. 
“ And I couldn’t bear to 
have you give up your 
lessons, and I got a place 
ironing shirts in that big 
Twenty - fourth Stree t 
laundry. And I think I 
did very well to make up 
both General Pinkney and 
Clementina, don’t you, 
Joe ? And when a girl in 
the laundry set down a 
hot iron on my hand this 
afternoon I was all the 
way home making up that 
story about the Welsh 
rabbit. You’re not angry, 
are you, Joe ? And if I 
hadn’t got the work you 
mightn’t have sold your 
“she spilled a great lot of 
IT, BOILING HOT, OVER MY HAND 
AND WRIST.” 
sketches to that man 
from Peoria.” 
“He wasn’t from 
Peoria,” said Joe, slowly. 
“ Well, it doesn’t matter 
where he was from. How 
clever you are, Joe — and 
— kiss me, Joe — and what 
made you ever suspect 
that I wasn’t giving music- 
lessons to Clementina ? ” 
“ I didn’t,” said Joe, 
“until to-night. And I 
wouldn’t have then, only 
I sent up this cotton- 
waste and oil from the 
engine-room this after- 
noon for a girl upstairs 
who had her hand burned 
with a smoothing - iron. 
I’ve been firing the engine 
in that laundry for the 
last two weeks.” 
“ And then you didn’t 
sell ” 
“ My purchaser from 
Peoria,” said Joe, “ and 
General Pinkney are both 
creations of the same art. 
But you wouldn’t call it 
either painting or music.” 
And then they both 
laughed, and Joe began: — 
“ When one loves one’s 
Art no service seems ” 
But Delia stopped him 
with her hand on his lips. 
“ No,” she said, “just 
‘ When one loves.’ ” 
