"She

is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind

morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care

to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old

flibbertigibbet."

"You

are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go

on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to

bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie

sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott!

yes."

Johnsy

was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the

window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out

the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a

moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with

snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his s...