He would think
I was intruding, I am sure."
"Well then, we will do it this way--the first day that Mr. King and I are
both away, and Tee Kee is gone, too; I'll slip out here and leave a letter
and a key on your gate. The letter will tell you just the time when we go,
and when we will return--so you will know whether it is safe for you or
not, and how long you can stay. Only"--he became very serious--"only, you
must promise one thing."
"What?"
"That you won't look at the picture on the easel."
"But why must I promise that?"
"Because that picture will not be finished for a long time yet, and you
must not look at it until I say it is ready. Mr. King wouldn't like you to
see that picture, I am sure. In fact, he doesn't like for any one to see
the picture he is working on just now."
"How funny," she said, with a puzzled look. "What is he painting it for? I
like for people to hear my music."
The man answered before he thought--"But I don't like people to read my
books."
She shrank back, with troubled eyes, "Oh! is he--is he _that_ kind of an
artist?"
"No, no, no!" exclaimed the novelist, hastily. "You must not think that. I
did not mean you to think that.
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