TheafternoonwaswelladvancedwhenTorpenhowcametothedoorandsawDickdancingawildsarabandundertheskylight。
　　’IbuildedbetterthanIknew，Torp，’hesaid，withoutstoppingthedance。
　　’They’regood！They’redamnedgood！They’llgolikeflame！Ishallhaveanexhibitionofthemonmyownbrazenhook。Andthatmanwouldhavecheatedmeoutofit！DoyouknowthatI’msorrynowthatIdidn’tactuallyhithim？’
　　’Goout，’saidTorpenhow，——’gooutandpraytobedeliveredfromthesinofarrogance，whichyouneverwillbe。Bringyourthingsupfromwhateverplaceyou’restayingin，andwe’lltrytomakethisbarnalittlemoreshipshape。’
　　’Andthen——oh，then，’saidDick，stillcapering，’wewillspoiltheEgyptians！’？
　　CHAPTERIV
　　Thewolf—cubatevenlayhidinthecorn，Whenthesmokeofthecookinghunggray：
　　Heknewwherethedoemadeacouchforherfawn，Andhelookedtohisstrengthforhisprey。
　　Butthemoonsweptthesmoke—wreathsaway。
　　Andheturnedfromhismealinthevillager’sclose，Andhebayedtothemoonassherose。——InSeonee。？
　　’WELL，andhowdoessuccesstaste？’saidTorpenhow，somethreemonthslater。Hehadjustreturnedtochambersafteraholidayinthecountry。
　　’Good，’saidDick，ashesatlickinghislipsbeforetheeaselinthestudio。
　　’Iwantmore，——heapsmore。Theleanyearshavepassed，andIapproveofthesefatones。’
　　’Becareful，oldman。Thatwayliesbadwork。’
　　Torpenhowwassprawlinginalongchairwithasmallfox—terrierasleeponhischest，whileDickwaspreparingacanvas。Adais，abackground，andalay—figureweretheonlyfixedobjectsintheplace。Theyrosefromawreckofoddmentsthatbeganwithfelt—coveredwater—bottles，belts，andregimentalbadges，andendedwithasmallbaleofsecond—handuniformsandastandofmixedarms。Themarkofmuddyfeetonthedaisshowedthatamilitarymodelhadjustgoneaway。Thewateryautumnsunlightwasfalling，andshadowssatinthecornersofthestudio。
　　’Yes，’saidDick，deliberately，’Ilikethepower；Ilikethefun；Ilikethefuss；andaboveallIlikethemoney。Ialmostlikethepeoplewhomakethefussandpaythemoney。Almost。Butthey’reaqueergang，——anamazinglyqueergang！’
　　’Theyhavebeengoodenoughtoyou，atanyrate。Thantin—potexhibitionofyoursketchesmusthavepaid。Didyouseethatthepaperscalleditthe"WildWorkShow"？’
　　’Nevermind。IsoldeveryshredofcanvasIwantedto；and，onmyword，IbelieveitwasbecausetheybelievedIwasaself—taughtflagstoneartist。
　　IshouldhavegotbetterpricesifIworkedmythingsonwoolorscratchedthemoncamel—boneinsteadofusingmereblackandwhiteandcolour。Verily，theyareaqueergang，thesepeople。Limitedisn’tthewordtodescribe’em。Imetafellowtheotherdaywhotoldmethatitwasimpossiblethatshadowsonwhitesandshouldbeblue，——ultramarine，——astheyare。Ifoundout，later，thatthemanhadbeenasfarasBrightonbeach；butheknewallaboutArt，confoundhim。Hegavemealectureonit，andrecommendedmetogotoschooltolearntechnique。IwonderwhatoldKamiwouldhavesaidtothat。’
　　’WhenwereyouunderKami，manofextraordinarybeginnings？’
　　’IstudiedwithhimfortwoyearsinParis。Hetaughtbypersonalmagnetism。Allheeversaidwas，"Continuez，mesenfants，"andyouhadtomakethebestyoucouldofthat。Hehadadivinetouch，andheknewsomethingaboutcolour。Kamiusedtodreamcolour；Iswearhecouldneverhaveseenthegenuinearticle；butheevolvedit；anditwasgood。’
　　’RecollectsomeofthoseviewsintheSoudan？’saidTorpenhow，withaprovokingdrawl。
　　Dicksquirmedinhisplace。’Don’t！Itmakesmewanttogetoutthereagain。Whatcolourthatwas！Opalandumberandamberandclaretandbrick—redandsulphur——cockatoo—crest——sulphur——againstbrown，withanigger—blackrockstickingupinthemiddleofitall，andadecorativefriezeofcamelsfestooninginfrontofapurepaleturquoisesky。’Hebegantowalkupanddown。’Andyet，youknow，ifyoutrytogivethesepeoplethethingasGodgaveit，keyeddowntotheircomprehensionandaccordingtothepowersHehasgivenyou————’
　　’Modestman！Goon。’
　　’Halfadozenepiceneyoungpaganswhohaven’tevenbeentoAlgierswilltellyou，first，thatyournotionisborrowed，and，secondly，thatitisn’tArt。
　　’’Thiscomesofmyleavingtownforamonth。Dickie，you’vebeenpromenadingamongthetoy—shopsandhearingpeopletalk。’
　　’Icouldn’thelpit，’saidDick，penitently。’Youweren’there，anditwaslonelytheselongevenings。Amancan’tworkforever。’
　　’Amanmighthavegonetoapub，andgotdecentlydrunk。’
　　’IwishIhad；butIforgatheredwithsomemenofsorts。Theysaidtheywereartists，andIknewsomeofthemcoulddraw，——buttheywouldn’tdraw。Theygavemetea，——teaatfiveintheafternoon！——andtalkedaboutArtandthestateoftheirsouls。Asiftheirsoulsmattered。I’veheardmoreaboutArtandseenlessofherinthelastsixmonthsthaninthewholeofmylife。DoyourememberCassavetti，whoworkedforsomecontinentalsyndicate，outwiththedesertcolumn？HewasaregularChristmas—treeofcontraptionswhenhetookthefieldinfullfig，withhiswater—bottle，lanyard，revolver，writing—case，housewife，gig—lamps，andtheLordknowswhatall。Heusedtofiddleaboutwith’emandshowushowtheyworked；butheneverseemedtodomuchexceptfudgehisreportsfromtheNilghai。See？’
　　’DearoldNilghai！He’sintown，fatterthanever。Heoughttobeupherethisevening。Iseethecomparisonperfectly。Youshouldhavekeptclearofallthatman—millinery。Servesyouright；andIhopeitwillunsettleyourmind。’
　　’Itwon’t。IthastaughtmewhatArt——holysacredArt——means。’
　　’You’velearntsomethingwhileI’vebeenaway。WhatisArt？’
　　’Give’emwhattheyknow，andwhenyou’vedoneitoncedoitagain。’
　　Dickdraggedforwardacanvaslaidfacetothewall。’Here’sasampleofrealArt。It’sgoingtobeafacsimilereproductionforaweekly。Icalledit"HisLastShot。"It’sworkedupfromthelittlewater—colourImadeoutsideElMaghrib。Well，Iluredmymodel，abeautifulrifleman，upherewithdrink；Idroredhim，andIredroredhim，andIredroredhim，andImadehimaflushed，dishevelled，bedevilledscallawag，withhishelmetatthebackofhishead，andthelivingfearofdeathinhiseye，andthebloodoozingoutofacutoverhisankle—bone。Hewasn’tpretty，buthewasallsoldierandverymuchman。’
　　’Oncemore，modestchild！’
　　Dicklaughed。’Well，it’sonlytoyouI’mtalking。IdidhimjustaswellasIknewhow，makingallowancefortheslicknessofoils。Thentheart—managerofthatabandonedpapersaidthathissubscriberswouldn’tlikeit。Itwasbrutalandcoarseandviolent，——manbeingnaturallygentlewhenhe’sfightingforhislife。Theywantedsomethingmorerestful，withalittlemorecolour。Icouldhavesaidagooddeal，butyoumightaswelltalktoasheepasanart—manager。Itookmy"LastShot"back。Beholdtheresult！Iputhimintoalovelyredcoatwithoutaspeckonit。ThatisArt。Ipolishedhisboots，——observethehighlightonthetoe。ThatisArt。I
　　cleanedhisrifle，——riflesarealwayscleanonservice，——becausethatisArt。
　　Ipipeclayedhishelmet，——pipeclayisalwaysusedonactiveservice，andisindispensabletoArt。Ishavedhischin，Iwashedhishands，andgavehimanairoffattedpeace。Result，militarytailor’spattern—plate。Price，thankHeaven，twiceasmuchasforthefirstsketch，whichwasmoderatelydecent。’
　　’Anddoyousupposeyou’regoingtogivethatthingoutasyourwork？’
　　’Whynot？Ididit。AloneIdidit，intheinterestsofsacred，home—bredArtandDickenson’sWeekly。’
　　Torpenhowsmokedinsilenceforawhile。Thencametheverdict，deliveredfromrollingclouds：’Ifyouwereonlyamassofblatheringvanity，Dick，Iwouldn’tmind，——I’dletyougotothedeuceonyourownmahl—stick；butwhenIconsiderwhatyouaretome，andwhenIfindthattovanityyouaddthetwopenny—halfpennypiqueofatwelve—year—oldgirl，thenIbestirmyselfinyourbehalf。Thus！’
　　ThecanvasrippedasTorpenhow’sbootedfootshotthroughit，andtheterrierjumpeddown，thinkingratswereabout。
　　’Ifyouhaveanybadlanguagetouse，useit。Youhavenot。Icontinue。
　　Youareanidiot，becausenomanbornofwomanisstrongenoughtotakelibertieswithhispublic，eventhoughtheybe——whichtheyain’t——allyousaytheyare。’
　　’Buttheydon’tknowanybetter。Whatcanyouexpectfromcreaturesbornandbredinthislight？’Dickpointedtotheyellowfog。’Iftheywantfurniture—polish，letthemhavefurniture—polish，solongastheypayforit。
　　Theyareonlymenandwomen。Youtalkasiftheyweregods。’
　　’Thatsoundsveryfine，butithasnothingtodowiththecase。Theyaretheypeopleyouhavetodoworkfor，whetheryoulikeitornot。Theyareyourmasters。Don’tbedeceived，Dickie，youaren’tstrongenoughtotriflewiththem，——orwithyourself，whichismoreimportant。
　　Moreover，——Comeback，Binkie：thatreddaubisn’tgoinganywhere，——unlessyoutakepreciousgoodcare，youwillfallunderthedamnationofthecheck—book，andthat’sworsethandeath。Youwillgetdrunk——you—rehalfdrunkalready——oneasilyacquiredmoney。Forthatmoneyandyouowninfernalvanityyouarewillingtodeliberatelyturnoutbadwork。You’lldoquiteenoughbadworkwithoutknowingit。And，Dickie，asIloveyouandasIknowyouloveme，IamnotgoingtoletyoucutoffyournosetospiteyourfaceforallthegoldinEngland。That’ssettled。Nowswear。’
　　’Don’tknow，saidDick。’I’vebeentryingtomakemyselfangry，butI
　　can’t，you’resoabominablyreasonable。TherewillbearowonDickenson’sWeekly，Ifancy。’
　　’WhytheDickensondoyouwanttoworkonaweeklypaper？It’sslowbleedingofpower。’
　　’Itbringsintheverydesirabledollars，’saidDick，hishandsinhispockets。
　　Torpenhowwatchedhimwithlargecontempt。’Why，Ithoughtitwasaman！’saidhe。’It’sachild。’
　　’No，itisn’t，’saidDick，wheelingquickly。’You’venonotionowhatthecertaintyofcashmeanstoamanwhohasalwayswanteditbadly。
　　Nothingwillpaymeforsomeofmylife’sjoys；onthatChinesepig—boat，forinstance，whenweatebreadandjamforeverymeal，becauseHo—Wangwouldn’tallowusanythingbetter，anditalltastedofpig，——Chinesepig。I’veworkedforthis，I’vesweatedandI’vestarvedforthis，lineonlineandmonthaftermonth。AndnowI’vegotitIamgoingtomakethemostofitwhileitlasts。Letthempay——they’venoknowledge。’
　　’WhatdoesYourMajestypleasetowant？Youcan’tsmokemorethanyoudo；youwon’tdrink；you’reagrossfeeder；andyoudressinthedark，bythelookofyou。Youwouldn’tkeepahorsetheotherdaywhenI
　　suggested，because，yousaid，itmightfalllame，andwheneveryoucrossthestreetyoutakeahansom。EvenyouarenotfoolishenoughtosupposethattheatresandallthelivethingsyoucanbythereaboutsmeanLife。
　　Whatearthlyneedhaveyouformoney？’
　　’It’sthere，blessitsgoldenheart，’saidDick。’It’sthereallthetime。
　　ProvidencehassentmenutswhileIhaveteethtocrack’emwith。I
　　haven’tyetfoundthenutIwishtocrack，butI’mkeepingmyteethfiled。
　　PerhapssomedayyouandIwillgoforawalkroundthewideearth。’
　　’Withnoworktodo，nobodytoworryus，andnobodytocompetewith？
　　Youwouldbeunfittospeaktoinaweek。Besides，Ishouldn’tgo。Idon’tcaretoprofitbythepriceofaman’ssoul，——forthat’swhatitwouldmean。
　　Dick，it’snousearguing。You’reafool。’
　　’Don’tseeit。WhenIwasonthatChinesepig—boat，ourcaptaingotcreditforsavingabouttwenty—fivethousandveryseasicklittlepigs，whenouroldtrampofasteamerfellfoulofatimber—junk。Now，takingthosepigsasaparallel————’
　　’Oh，confoundyourparallels！WheneverItrytoimproveyoursoul，youalwaysdraginsomeanecdotefromyourveryshadypast。Pigsaren’ttheBritishpublic；andself—respectisself—respecttheworldover。Gooutforawalkandtrytocatchsomeself—respect。And，Isay，iftheNilghaicomesupthiseveningcanIshowhimyourdiggings？’
　　’Surely。’AndDickdeparted，totakecounselwithhimselfintherapidlygatheringLondonfog。
　　Halfanhourafterhehadleft，theNilghailabouredupthestaircase。Hewasthechiefest，ashewastheyoungest，ofthewarcorrespondents，andhisexperiencesdatedfromthebirthoftheneedle—gun。Savingonlyhisally，KeneutheGreatWarEagle，therewasnomanhigherinthecraftthanhe，andhealwaysopenedhisconversationwiththenewsthattherewouldbetroubleintheBalkansinthespring。Torpenhowlaughedasheentered。
　　’NevermindthetroubleintheBalkans。Thoselittlestatesarealwaysscreeching。You’veheardaboutDick’sluck？’
　　’Yes；hehasbeencalleduptonotoriety，hasn’the？Ihopeyoukeephimproperlyhumble。Hewantssuppressingfromtimetotime。’
　　’Hedoes。He’sbeginningtotakelibertieswithwhathethinksishisreputation。’
　　’Already！ByJove，hehascheek！Idon’tknowabouthisreputation，buthe’llcomeacropperifhetriesthatsortofthing。’
　　’SoItoldhim。Idon’tthinkhebelievesit。’
　　’Theyneverdowhentheyfirststartoff。What’sthatwreckonthegroundthere？’
　　’Specimenofhislatestimpertinence。’Torpenhowthrustthetornedgesofthecanvastogetherandshowedthewell—groomedpicturetotheNilghai，wholookedatitforamomentandwhistled。
　　’It’sachromo，’saidhe，——’achromo—litholeomargarinefake！Whatpossessedhimtodoit？Andyethowthoroughlyhehascaughtthenotethatcatchesapublicwhothinkwiththeirbootsandreadwiththeirelbows！Thecold—bloodedinsolenceoftheworkalmostsavesit；buthemustn’tgoonwiththis。Hasn’thebeenpraisedandcockereduptoomuch？Youknowthesepeopleherehavenosenseofproportion。They’llcallhimasecondDetailleandathird—handMeissonierwhilehisfashionlasts。It’swindydietforacolt。’
　　’Idon’tthinkitaffectsDickmuch。Youmightaswellcallayoungwolfalionandexpecthimtotakethecomplimentinexchangeforashin—bone。
　　Dick’ssoulisinthebank。He’sworkingforcash。’
　　’Nowhehasthrownupwarwork，Isupposehedoesn’tseethattheobligationsoftheservicearejustthesame，onlytheproprietorsarechanged。’
　　’Howshouldheknow？Hethinksheishisownmaster。’
　　’Doeshe？Icouldundeceivehimforhisgood，ifthere’sanyvirtueinprint。Hewantsthewhiplash。’
　　’Layitonwithscience，then。I’dflayhimmyself，butIlikehimtoomuch。’
　　’I’venoscruples。HehadtheaudacitytotrytocutmeoutwithawomanatCairoonce。Iforgotthat，butIremembernow。’
　　’Didhecutyouout？’
　　’You’llseewhenIhavedealtwithhim。But，afterall，what’sthegood？
　　Leavehimaloneandhe’llcomehome，ifhehasanystuffinhim，draggingorwagginghistailbehindhim。There’smoreinaweekoflifethaninalivelyweekly。NonethelessI’llslatehim。I’llslatehimponderouslyintheCataclysm。’
　　’Goodlucktoyou；butIfancynothingshortofacrowbarwouldmakeDickwince。Hissoulseemstohavebeenfiredbeforewecameacrosshim。
　　He’sintenselysuspiciousandutterlylawless。’
　　’Matteroftemper，’saidtheNilghai。’It’sthesamewithhorses。Someyouwallopandtheywork，someyouwallopandtheyjib，andsomeyouwallopandtheygooutforawalkwiththeirhandsintheirpockets。’
　　’That’sexactlywhatDickhasdone，’saidTorpenhow。’Waittillhecomesback。Inthemeantime，youcanbeginyourslatinghere。I’llshowyousomeofhislastandworstworkinhisstudio。’
　　Dickhadinstinctivelysoughtrunningwaterforacomforttohismoodofmind。HewasleaningovertheEmbankmentwall，watchingtherushoftheThamesthroughthearchesofWestminsterBridge。HebeganbythinkingofTorpenhow’sadvice，but，asofcustom，losthimselfinthestudyofthefacesflockingpast。Somehaddeathwrittenontheirfeatures，andDickmarvelledthattheycouldlaugh。Others，clumsyandcoarse—builtforthemostpart，werealightwithlove；othersweremerelydrawnandlinedwithwork；buttherewassomething，Dickknew，tobemadeoutofthemall。Thepooratleastshouldsufferthathemightlearn，andtherichshouldpayfortheoutputofhislearning。Thushiscreditintheworldandhiscashbalanceatthebankwouldbeincreased。Somuchthebetterforhim。Hehadsuffered。Nowhewouldtaketolloftheillsofothers。
　　Thefogwasdrivenapartforamoment，andthesunshone，ablood—redwafer，onthewater。Dickwatchedthespottillheheardthevoiceofthetidebetweenthepiersdiedownlikethewashoftheseaatlowtide。Agirlhardpressedbyherlovershoutedshamelessly，’Ah，getaway，youbeast！’
　　andashiftofthesamewindthathadopenedthefogdroveacrossDick’sfacetheblacksmokeofariver—steameratherberthbelowthewall。Hewasblindedforthemoment，thenspunroundandfoundhimselffacetofacewith——Maisie。
　　Therewasnomistaking。Theyearshadturnedthechildtoawoman，buttheyhadnotalteredthedark—grayeyes，thethinscarletlips，orthefirmlymodelledmouthandchin；and，thatallshouldbeasitwasofold，sheworeacloselyfittinggraydress。
　　Sincethehumansoulisfiniteandnotintheleastunderitsowncommand，Dick，advancing，said’Halloo！’afterthemannerofschoolboys，andMaisieanswered，’Oh，Dick，isthatyou？’Then，againsthiswill，andbeforethebrainnewlyreleasedfromconsiderationsofthecashbalancehadtimetodictatetothenerves，everypulseofDick’sbodythrobbedfuriouslyandhispalatedriedinhismouth。Thefogshutdownagain，andMaisie’sfacewaspearl—whitethroughit。Nowordwasspoken，butDickfellintostepatherside，andthetwopacedtheEmbankmenttogether，keepingthestepasperfectlyasintheirafternoonexcursionstothemud—flats。ThenDick，alittlehoarsely——
　　’WhathashappenedtoAmomma？’
　　’Hedied，Dick。Notcartridges；over—eating。Hewasalwaysgreedy。Isn’titfunny？’
　　’Yes。No。DoyoumeanAmomma？’
　　’Ye——es。No。This。Wherehaveyoucomefrom？’
　　’Overthere，’Hepointedeastwardthroughthefog。’Andyou？’
　　’Oh，I’minthenorth，——theblacknorth，acrossallthePark。Iamverybusy。’
　　’Whatdoyoudo？’
　　’Ipaintagreatdeal。That’sallIhavetodo。’
　　’Why，what’shappened？Youhadthreehundredayear。’
　　’Ihavethatstill。Iampainting；that’sall。’
　　’Areyoualone，then？’
　　’There’sagirllivingwithme。Don’twalksofast，Dick；you’reoutofstep。’
　　’Thenyounoticedittoo？’
　　’OfcourseIdid。You’realwaysoutofstep。’
　　’SoIam。I’msorry。Youwentonwiththepainting？’
　　’Ofcourse。IsaidIshould。IwasattheSlade，thenatMerton’sinSt。
　　John’sWood，thebigstudio，thenIpepper—potted，——ImeanIwenttotheNational，——andnowI’mworkingunderKami。’
　　’ButKamiisinParissurely？’
　　’No；hehashisteachingstudioinVitry—sur—Marne。Iworkwithhiminthesummer，andIliveinLondoninthewinter。I’mahouseholder。’
　　’Doyousellmuch？’
　　’Nowandagain，butnotoften。Thereismy’bus。Imusttakeitorlosehalfanhour。Good—bye，Dick。’
　　’Good—bye，Maisie。Won’tyoutellmewhereyoulive？Imustseeyouagain；andperhapsIcouldhelpyou。I——Ipaintalittlemyself。’
　　’ImaybeintheParkto—morrow，ifthereisnoworkinglight。IwalkfromtheMarbleArchdownandbackagain；thatismylittleexcursion。ButofcourseIshallseeyouagain。’Shesteppedintotheomnibusandwasswallowedupbythefog。
　　’Well——I——am——damned！’exclaimedDick，andreturnedtothechambers。
　　TorpenhowandtheNilghaifoundhimsittingonthestepstothestgudiodoor，repeatingthephrasewithanawfulgravity。
　　’You’llbemoredamnedwhenI’mdonewithyou，’saidtheNilghai，upheavinghisbulkfrombehindTorpenhow’sshoulderandwavingasheafofhalf—drymanuscript。’Dick，itisofcommonreportthatyouaresufferingfromswelledhead。’
　　’Halloo，Nilghai。Backagain？HowaretheBalkansandallthelittleBalkans？Onesideofyourfaceisoutofdrawing，asusual。’
　　’Nevermindthat。Iamcommissionedtosmiteyouinprint。Torpenhowrefusesfromfalsedelicacy。I’vebeenoverhaulingthepot—boilersinyourstudio。Theyaresimplydisgraceful。’
　　’Oho！that’sit，isit？Ifyouthinkyoucanslateme，you’rewrong。Youcanonlydescribe，andyouneedasmuchroomtoturnin，onpaper，asaP。andO。cargo—boat。Butcontinue，andbeswift。I’mgoingtobed。’
　　’H’m！h’m！h’m！Thefirstpartonlydealswithyourpictures。Here’stheperoration："Forworkdonewithoutconviction，forpowerwastedontrivialities，forlabourexpendedwithlevityforthedeliberatepurposeofwinningtheeasyapplauseofafashion—drivenpublic————"
　　’That’s"HisLastShot，"secondedition。Goon。’
　　’————"public，thereremainsbutoneend，——theoblivionthatisprecededbytolerationandcenotaphedwithcontempt。FromthatfateMr。Heldarhasyettoprovehimselfoutofdanger。’
　　’Wow——wow——wow——wow——wow！’saidDick，profanely。’It’saclumsyendingandvilejournalese，butit’squitetrue。Andyet，’——hesprangtohisfeetandsnatchedatthemanuscript，——’youscarred，deboshed，batteredoldgladiator！you’resentoutwhenawarbegins，toministertotheblind，brutal，Britishpublic’sbestialthirstforblood。Theyhavenoarenasnow，buttheymusthavespecialcorrespondents。You’reafatgladiatorwhocomesupthroughatrap—doorandtalksofwhathe’sseen。Youstandonpreciselythesamelevelasanenergeticbishop，anaffableactress，adevastatingcyclone，or——mineownsweetself。Andyoupresumetolecturemeaboutmywork！Nilghai，ifitwereworthwhileI’dcaricatureyouinfourpapers！’
　　TheNilghaiwinced。Hehadnotthoughtofthis。
　　’Asitis，Ishalltakethisstuffandtearitsmall——so！’Themanuscriptflutteredinslipsdownthedarkwellofthestaircase。’Gohome，Nilghai，’
　　saidDick；’gohometoyourlonelylittlebed，andleavemeinpeace。Iamabouttoturnintillto—morrow。’
　　’Why，itisn’tsevenyet！’saidTorpenhow，withamazement。
　　’Itshallbetwointhemorning，ifIchoose，’saidDick，backingtothestudiodoor。’Igotograpplewithaseriouscrisis，andIshan’twantanydinner。’
　　Thedoorshutandwaslocked。
　　’Whatcanyoudowithamanlikethat？’saidtheNilghai。
　　’Leavehimalone。He’sasmadasahatter。’
　　Ateleventherewasakickingonthestudiodoor。’IstheNilghaiwithyoustill？’saidavoicefromwithin。’Thentellhimhemighthavecondensedthewholeofhislumberingnonsenseintoanepigram："Onlythefreearebond，andonlythebondarefree。"Tellhimhe’sanidiot，Torp，andtellhimI’manother。’
　　’Allright。Comeoutandhavesupper。You’resmokingonanemptystomach。’
　　Therewasnoanswer。
　　CHAPTERV
　　’Ihaveathousandmen，’saidhe，’Towaituponmywill，AndtowersnineupontheTyne，AndthreeupontheTill。’？
　　’AndwhatcareIforyoumen，’saidshe，’OrtowersfromTynetoTill，Sithyoumustgowithme，’shesaid，’Towaituponmywill？’
　　SirHoggieandtheFairiesNEXTmorningTorpenhowfoundDicksunkindeepestreposeoftobacco。
　　’Well，madman，howd’youfeel？’
　　’Idon’tknow。I’mtryingtofindout。’
　　’Youhadmuchbetterdosomework。’
　　’Maybe；butI’minnohurry。I’vemadeadiscovery。Torp，there’stoomuchEgoinmyCosmos。’
　　’Notreally！Isthisrevelationduetomylectures，ortheNilghai’s？’
　　’Itcametomesuddenly，allonmyownaccount。MuchtoomuchEgo；
　　andnowI’mgoingtowork。’
　　Heturnedoverafewhalf—finishedsketches，drummedonanewcanvas，cleanedthreebrushes，setBinkietobitethetoesofthelayfigure，rattledthroughhiscollectionofarmsandaccoutrements，andthenwentoutabruptly，declaringthathehaddoneenoughfortheday。
　　’Thisispositivelyindecent，’saidTorpenhow，’andthefirsttimethatDickhaseverbrokenupalightmorning。Perhapshehasfoundoutthathehasasoul，oranartistictemperament，orsomethingequallyvaluable。
　　Thatcomesofleavinghimaloneforamonth。Perhapshehasbeengoingoutofevenings。Imustlooktothis。’Herangforthebald—headedoldhousekeeper，whomnothingcouldastonishorannoy。
　　’Beeton，didMr。HeldardineoutatallwhileIwasoutoftown？’
　　’Neverlaid’isdress—clothesoutonce，sir，allthetime。Mostly’edinedin；
　　but’ebroughtsomemostremarkableyounggentlemenup’ereaftertheatresonceortwice。Remarkablefancytheywas。Yougentlemenonthetopfloordoesverymuchasyoulikes，butitdoseemtome，sir，droppin’awalkin’—stickdownfiveflightso’stairsan’thengoin’downfourabreasttopickitupagainathalf—pasttwointhemornin’，singin’
　　"Bringbackthewhiskey，Williedarlin，’"——notonceortwice，butscoreso’times，——isn’tcharitytotheothertenants。WhatIsayis，"Doasyouwouldbedoneby。"That’smymotto。’
　　’Ofcourse！ofcourse！I’mafraidthetopfloorisn’tthequietestinthehouse。’
　　’Imakenocomplaints，sir。IhavespoketoMr。Heldarfriendly，an’helaughed，an’didmeapictureofthemissisthatisasgoodasacolouredprint。It’asn’tthehighshineofaphotograph，butwhatIsayis，"Neverlookagift—horseinthemouth。"Mr。Heldar’sdress—clothes’aven’tbeenonhimforweeks。’
　　’Thenit’sallright，’saidTorpenhowtohimself。’Orgiesarehealthy，andDickhasaheadofhisown，butwhenitcomestowomenmakingeyesI’mnotsocertain，——Binkie，neveryoubeaman，littledorglums。They’recontrarybrutes，andtheydothingswithoutanyreason。’
　　DickhadturnednorthwardacrossthePark，buthewaswalkinginthespiritonthemud—flatswithMaisie。HelaughedaloudasherememberedthedaywhenhehaddeckedAmomma’shornswiththeham—frills，andMaisie，whitewithrage，hadcuffedhim。Howlongthosefouryearsseemedinreview，andhowcloselyMaisiewasconnectedwitheveryhourofthem！Stormacrossthesea，andMaisieinagraydressonthebeach，sweepingherdrenchedhairoutofhereyesandlaughingatthehomewardraceofthefishing—smacks；hotsunshineonthemud—flats，andMaisiesniffingscornfully，withherchinintheair；Maisieflyingbeforethewindthatthreshedtheforeshoreanddrovethesandlikesmallshotaboutherears；Maisie，verycomposedandindependent，tellingliestoMrs。JennettwhileDicksupportedherwithcoarserperjuries；Maisiepickingherwaydelicatelyfromstonetostone，apistolinherhandandherteethfirm—set；andMaisieinagraydresssittingonthegrassbetweenthemouthofacannonandanoddingyellowsea—poppy。Thepicturespassedbeforehimonebyone，andthelaststayedthelongest。
　　Dickwasperfectlyhappywithaquietpeacethatwasasnewtohismindasitwasforeigntohisexperiences。ItneveroccurredtohimthattheremightbeothercallsuponhistimethanloafingacrosstheParkintheforenoon。
　　’There’sagoodworkinglightnow，’hesaid，watchinghisshadowplacidly。’Somepoordeviloughttobegratefulforthis。Andthere’sMaisie。’
　　ShewaswalkingtowardshimfromtheMarbleArch，andhesawthatnomannerismofhergaithadbeenchanged。ItwasgoodtofindherstillMaisie，and，sotospeak，hisnext—doorneighbour。Nogreetingpassedbetweenthem，becausetherehadbeennoneintheolddays。
　　’Whatareyoudoingoutofyourstudioatthishour？’saidDick，asonewhowasentitledtoask。
　　’Idling。Justidling。Igotangrywithachinandscrapeditout。ThenIleftitinalittleheapofpaint—chipsandcameaway。’
　　’Iknowwhatpalette—knifingmeans。Whatwasthepiccy？’
　　’Afancyheadthatwouldn’tcomeright，——horridthing！’
　　’Idon’tlikeworkingoverscrapedpaintwhenI’mdoingflesh。Thegraincomesupwoollyasthepaintdries。’
　　’Notifyouscrapeproperly。’Maisiewavedherhandtoillustratehermethods。Therewasadabofpaintonthewhitecuff。Dicklaughed。
　　’You’reasuntidyasever。’
　　’Thatcomeswellfromyou。Lookatyourowncuff。’
　　’ByJove，yes！It’sworsethanyours。Idon’tthinkwe’vemuchalteredinanything。Let’ssee，though。’HelookedatMaisiecritically。Thepalebluehazeofanautumndaycreptbetweenthetree—trunksoftheParkandmadeabackgroundforthegraydress，theblackvelvettoqueabovetheblackhair，andtheresoluteprofile。
　　’No，there’snothingchanged。Howgooditis！D’yourememberwhenI
　　fastenedyourhairintothesnapofahand—bag？’
　　Maisienodded，withatwinkleinhereyes，andturnedherfullfacetoDick。
　　’Waitaminute，’saidhe。’Thatmouthisdownatthecornersalittle。
　　Who’sbeenworryingyou，Maisie？’
　　’Noonebutmyself。Ineverseemtogetonwithmywork，andyetItryhardenough，andKamisays————’
　　’"Continuez，mesdemoiselles。Continueztoujours，mesenfants。"Kamiisdepressing。Ibegyourpardon。’
　　’Yes，that’swhathesays。HetoldmelastsummerthatIwasdoingbetterandhe’dletmeexhibitthisyear。’
　　’Notinthisplace，surely？’
　　’Ofcoursenot。TheSalon。’
　　’Youflyhigh。’
　　’I’vebeenbeatingmywingslongenough。Wheredoyouexhibit，Dick？’
　　’Idon’texhibit。Isell。’
　　’Whatisyourline，then？’
　　’Haven’tyouheard？’Dick’seyesopened。Wasthisthingpossible？Hecastaboutforsomemeansofconviction。TheywerenotfarfromtheMarbleArch。’ComeupOxfordStreetalittleandI’llshowyou。’
　　Asmallknotofpeoplestoodroundaprint—shopthatDickknewwell。
　　’Somereproductionofmyworkinside，’hesaid，withsuppressedtriumph。Neverbeforehadsuccesstastedsosweetuponthetongue。’YouseethesortofthingsIpaint。D’youlikeit？’
　　Maisielookedatthewildwhirlingrushofafield—batterygoingintoactionunderfire。Twoartillery—menstoodbehindherinthecrowd。
　　’They’vechuckedtheofflead—’orse’saidonetotheother。’’E’storeupawful，butthey’remakin’goodtimewiththeothers。Thatlead—driverdrivesbetternoryou，Tom。See’owcunnin’’e’snursin’’is’orse。’
　　’NumberThree’llbeoffthelimber，nextjolt，’wastheanswer。
　　’No，’ewon’t。See’ow’isfoot’sbracedagainsttheiron？’E’sallright。’
　　DickwatchedMaisie’sfaceandswelledwithjoy——fine，rank，vulgartriumph。Shewasmoreinterestedinthelittlecrowdthaninthepicture。
　　Thatwassomethingthatshecouldunderstand。
　　’AndIwanteditso！Oh，Ididwantitso！’shesaidatlast，underherbreath。
　　’Me，——allme！’saidDick，placidly。’Lookattheirfaces。Ithits’em。Theydon’tknowwhatmakestheireyesandmouthsopen；butIknow。AndI
　　knowmywork’sright。’
　　’Yes。Isee。Oh，whatathingtohavecometoone！’
　　’Cometoone，indeed！Ihadtogooutandlookforit。Whatdoyouthink？’
　　’Icallitsuccess。Tellmehowyougotit。’
　　TheyreturnedtothePark，andDickdeliveredhimselfofthesagaofhisowndoings，withallthearroganceofayoungmanspeakingtoawoman。
　　Fromthebeginninghetoldthetale，theI——I——I’sflashingthroughtherecordsastelegraph—polesflypastthetraveller。Maisielistenedandnoddedherhead。Thehistoriesofstrifeandprivationdidnotmoveherahair’s—breadth。Attheendofeachcantohewouldconclude，’Andthatgavemesomenotionofhandlingcolour，’orlight，orwhateveritmightbethathehadsetouttopursueandunderstand。Heledherbreathlessacrosshalftheworld，speakingashehadneverspokeninhislifebefore。
　　Andintheflood—tideofhisexaltationtherecameuponhimagreatdesiretopickupthismaidenwhonoddedherheadandsaid，’Iunderstand。Goon，’——topickherupandcarryherawaywithhim，becauseshewasMaisie，andbecausesheunderstood，andbecauseshewashisright，andawomantobedesiredaboveallwomen。
　　Thenhecheckedhimselfabruptly。’AndsoItookallIwanted，’hesaid，’andIhadtofightforit。Nowyoutell。’
　　Maisie’stalewasalmostasgrayasherdress。Itcoveredyearsofpatienttoilbackedbysavagepridethatwouldnotbebrokenthoughtdealerslaughed，andfogsdelayedwork，andKamiwasunkindandevensarcastic，andgirlsinotherstudioswerepainfullypolite。Ithadafewbrightspots，inpicturesacceptedatprovincialexhibitions，butitwoundupwiththeoftrepeatedwail，’Andsoyousee，Dick，Ihadnosuccess，thoughIworkedsohard。’
　　ThenpityfilledDick。EventhushadMaisiespokenwhenshecouldnothitthebreakwater，halfanhourbeforeshehadkissedhim。Andthathadhappenedyesterday。
　　’Nevermind，’hesaid。’I’lltellyousomething，ifyou’llbelieveit。’Thewordswereshapingthemselvesoftheirownaccord。’Thewholething，lock，stock，andbarrel，isn’tworthonebigyellowsea—poppybelowFortKeeling。’
　　Maisieflushedalittle。’It’sallverywellforyoutotalk，butyou’vehadthesuccessandIhaven’t。’
　　’Letmetalk，then。Iknowyou’llunderstand。Maisie，dear，itsoundsabitabsurd，but5thosetenyearsneverexisted，andI’vecomebackagain。Itreallyisjustthesame。Can’tyousee？You’realonenowandI’malone。
　　What’stheuseofworrying？Cometomeinstead，darling。’
　　Maisiepokedthegravelwithherparasol。Theyweresittingonabench。
　　’Iunderstand，’shesaidslowly。’ButI’vegotmyworktodo，andImustdoit。’
　　’Doitwithme，then，dear。Iwon’tinterrupt。’
　　’No，Icouldn’t。It’smywork，——mine，——mine，——mine！I’vebeenaloneallmylifeinmyself，andI’mnotgoingtobelongtoanybodyexceptmyself。I
　　rememberthingsaswellasyoudo，butthatdoesn’tcount。Wewerebabiesthen，andwedidn’tknowwhatwasbeforeus。Dick，don’tbeselfish。IthinkIseemywaytoalittlesuccessnextyear。Don’ttakeitawayfromme。’
　　’Ibegyourpardon，darling。It’smyfaultforspeakingstupidly。Ican’texpectyoutothrowupallyourlifejustbecauseI’mback。I’llgotomyownplaceandwaitalittle。’
　　’But，Dick，Idon’twantyouto——go——outof——mylife，nowyou’vejustcomeback。’
　　’I’matyourorders；forgiveme。’Dickdevouredthetroubledlittlefacewithhiseyes。Therewastriumphinthem，becausehecouldnotconceivethatMaisieshouldrefusesoonerorlatertolovehim，sincehelovedher。
　　’It’swrongofme，’saidMaisie，moreslowlythanbefore；’it’swrongandselfish；but，oh，I’vebeensolonely！No，youmisunderstand。NowI’veseenyouagain，——it’sabsurd，butIwanttokeepyouinmylife。’
　　’Naturally。Webelong。’
　　’Wedon’t；butyoualwaysunderstoodme，andthereissomuchinmyworkthatyoucouldhelpmein。Youknowthingsandthewaysofdoingthings。Youmust。’
　　’Ido，Ifancy，orelseIdon’tknowmyself。Thenyouwon’tcaretolosesightofmealtogether，and——youwantmetohelpyouinyourwork？’
　　’Yes；butremember，Dick，nothingwillevercomeofit。That’swhyIfeelsoselfish。Can’tthingsstayastheyare？Idowantyourhelp。’
　　’Youshallhaveit。Butlet’sconsider。Imustseeyourpicsfirst，andoverhaulyoursketches，andfindoutaboutyourtendencies。Youshouldseewhatthepaperssayaboutmytendencies！ThenI’llgiveyougoodadvice，andyoushallpaintaccording。Isn’tthatit，Maisie？’
　　AgaintherewastriumphinDick’seye。
　　’It’stoogoodofyou，——muchtoogood。Becauseyouareconsolingyourselfwithwhatwillneverhappen，andIknowthat，andyetIwanttokeepyou。Don’tblamemelater，please。’
　　’I’mgoingintothematterwithmyeyesopen。MoreovertheQueencandonowrong。Itisn’tyourselfishnessthatimpressesme。It’syouraudacityinproposingtomakeuseofme。’
　　’Pooh！You’reonlyDick，——andaprint—shop。’
　　’Verygood：that’sallIam。But，Maisie，youbelieve，don’tyou，thatIloveyou？Idon’twantyoutohaveanyfalsenotionsaboutbrothersandsisters。’
　　Maisielookedupforamomentanddroppedhereyes。
　　’It’sabsurd，but——Ibelieve。IwishIcouldsendyouawaybeforeyougetangrywithme。But——butthegirlthatliveswithmeisred—haired，andanimpressionist，andallournotionsclash。’
　　’Sodoours，Ithink。Nevermind。Threemonthsfromto—dayweshallbelaughingatthistogether。’
　　Maisieshookherheadmournfully。’Iknewyouwouldn’tunderstand，anditwillonlyhurtyoumorewhenyoufindout。Lookatmyface，Dick，andtellmewhatyousee。’
　　Theystoodupandfacedeachotherforamoment。Thefogwasgathering，anditstifledtheroarofthetrafficofLondonbeyondtherailings。Dickbroughtallhispainfullyacquiredknowledgeoffacestobearontheeyes，mouth，andchinunderneaththeblackvelvettoque。
　　’It’sthesameMaisie，andit’sthesameme，’hesaid。’We’vebothnicelittlewillsofourown，andoneorotherofushastobebroken。Nowaboutthefuture。Imustcomeandseeyourpicturessomeday，——Isupposewhenthered—hairedgirlisonthepremises。’
　　’Sundaysaremybesttimes。YoumustcomeonSundays。TherearesuchheapsofthingsIwanttotalkaboutandaskyouradviceabout。NowI
　　mustgetbacktowork。’
　　’TrytofindoutbeforenextSundaywhatIam，’saidDick。’Don’ttakemywordforanythingI’vetoldyou。Good—bye，darling，andblessyou。’
　　Maisiestoleawaylikealittlegraymouse。Dickwatchedhertillshewasoutofsight，buthedidnothearhersaytoherself，verysoberly，’I’mawretch，——ahorrid，selfishwretch。Butit’sDick，andDickwillunderstand。’
　　Noonehasyetexplainedwhatactuallyhappenswhenanirresistibleforcemeetstheimmovablepost，thoughmanyhavethoughtdeeply，evenasDickthought。HetriedtoassurehimselfthatMaisiewouldbeledinafewweeksbyhismerepresenceanddiscoursetoabetterwayofthinking。Thenherememberedmuchtoodistinctlyherfaceandallthatwaswrittenonit。
　　’IfIknowanythingofheads，’hesaid，’there’severythinginthatfacebutlove。Ishallhavetoputthatinmyself；andthatchinandmouthwon’tbewonfornothing。Butshe’sright。Sheknowswhatshewants，andshe’sgoingtogetit。Whatinsolence！Me！Ofallthepeopleinthewideworld，touseme！Butthenshe’sMaisie。There’snogettingoverthatfact；andit’sgoodtoseeheragain。Thisbusinessmusthavebeensimmeringatthebackofmyheadforyears……She’llusemeasIusedBinatatPortSaid。
　　She’squiteright。Itwillhurtalittle。IshallhavetoseehereverySunday，——likeayoungmancourtingahousemaid。She’ssuretocomearound；andyet——thatmouthisn’tayieldingmouth。Ishallbewantingtokissherallthetime，andIshallhavetolookatherpictures，——Idon’tevenknowwhatsortofworkshedoesyet，——andIshallhavetotalkaboutArt，——Woman’sArt！Therefore，particularlyandperpetually，damnallvarietiesofArt。Itdidmeagoodturnonce，andnowit’sinmyway。I’llgohomeanddosomeArt。’
　　Half—waytothestudio，Dickwassmittenwithaterriblethought。Thefigureofasolitarywomaninthefogsuggestedit。
　　’She’sallaloneinLondon，withared—hairedimpressionistgirl，whoprobablyhasthedigestionofanostrich。Mostred—hairedpeoplehave。
　　Maisie’sabiliouslittlebody。They’lleatlikelonewomen，——mealsatallhours，andteawithallmeals。IrememberhowthestudentsinParisusedtopigalong。Shemayfallillatanyminute，andIshan’tbeabletohelp。
　　Whew！thisistentimesworsethanowningawife。’
　　Torpenhowenteredthestudioatdusk，andlookedatDickwitheyesfulloftheausterelovethatspringsupbetweenmenwhohavetuggedatthesameoartogetherandareyokedbycustomanduseandtheintimaciesoftoil。Thisisagoodlove，and，sinceitallows，andevenencourages，strife，recrimination，andbrutalsincerity，doesnotdie，butgrows，andisproofagainstanyabsenceandevilconduct。
　　DickwassilentafterhehandedTorpenhowthefilledpipeofcouncil。HethoughtofMaisieandherpossibleneeds。ItwasanewthingtothinkofanybodybutTorpenhow，whocouldthinkforhimself。Hereatlastwasanoutletforthatcashbalance。HecouldadornMaisiebarbaricallywithjewelry，——athickgoldnecklaceroundthatlittleneck，braceletsupontheroundedarms，andringsofpriceuponherhands，——thiecool，temperate，ringlesshandsthathehadtakenbetweenhisown。Itwasanabsurdthought，forMaisiewouldnotevenallowhimtoputoneringononefinger，andshewouldlaughatgoldentrappings。Itwouldbebettertositwithherquietlyinthedusk，hisarmaroundherneckandherfaceonhisshoulder，asbefittedhusbandandwife。Torpenhow’sbootscreakedthatnight，andhisstrongvoicejarred。Dick’sbrowscontractedandhemurmuredanevilwordbecausehehadtakenallhissuccessasarightandpartpaymentforpastdiscomfort，andnowhewascheckedinhisstridebyawomanwhoadmittedallthesuccessanddidnotinstantlycareforhim。
　　’Isay，oldman，’saidTorpenhow，whohadmadeoneortwovainattemptsatconversation，’Ihaven’tputyourbackupbyanythingI’vesaidlately，haveI？’
　　’You！No。Howcouldyou？’
　　’Liveroutoforder？’
　　’Thetrulyhealthymandoesn’tknowhehasaliver。I’monlyabitworriedaboutthingsingeneral。Isupposeit’smysoul。’
　　’Thetrulyhealthymandoesn’tknowhehasasoul。Whatbusinesshaveyouwithluxuriesofthatkind？’
　　’Itcameofitself。Who’sthemanthatsaysthatwe’reallislandsshoutingliestoeachotheracrossseasofmisunderstanding？’
　　’He’sright，whoeverheis，——exceptaboutthemisunderstanding。Idon’tthinkwecouldmisunderstandeachother。’
　　Thebluesmokecurledbackfromtheceilinginclouds。ThenTorpenhow，insinuatingly——
　　’Dick，isitawoman？’
　　’Behangedifit’sanythingremotelyresemblingawoman；andifyoubegintotalklikethat，I’llhireared—brickstudiowithwhitepainttrimmings，andbegoniasandpetuniasandblueHungariastoplayamongthree—and—sixpennypot—palms，andI’llmountallmypicsinaniline—dyeplushplasters，andI’llinviteeverywomanwhomaundersoverwhatherguide—bookstellherisArt，andyoushallreceive’em，Torp，——inasnuff—brownvelvetcoatwithyellowtrousersandanorangetie。You’lllikethat？’
　　’Toothin，Dick。Abettermanthanyouoncedeniedwithcursingandswearing。You’veoverdoneit，justashedid。It’snobusinessofmine，ofcourse，butit’scomfortingtothinkthatsomewhereunderthestarsthere’ssavingupforyouatremendousthrashing。Whetherit’llcomefromheavenorearth，Idon’tknow，butit’sboundtocomeandbreakyouupalittle。Youwanthammering。’
　　Dickshivered。’Allright，’saidhe。’Whenthisislandisdisintegrated，itwillcallforyou。’
　　’Ishallcomeroundthecornerandhelptodisintegrateitsomemore。
　　We’retalkingnonsense。Comealongtoatheatre。’？
　　CHAPTERVI
　　’Andyoumayleadathousandmen，Noreverdrawtherein，ButereyeleadtheFaeryQueen’Twillburstyourheartintwain。’？
　　Hehasslippedhisfootfromthestirrup—bar，Thebridlefromhishand，AndheisboundbyhandandfootTotheQueeno’Faery—land。
　　SirHoggieandtheFairies。
　　SOMEweekslater，onaveryfoggySunday，DickwasreturningacrosstheParktohisstudio。’This，’hesaid，’isevidentlythethrashingthatTorpmeant。IthurtsmorethanIexpected；buttheQueencandonowrong；andshecertainlyhassomenotionofdrawing。’
　　HehadjustfinishedaSundayvisittoMaisie，——alwaysunderthegreeneyesofthered—hairedimpressionistgirl，whomhelearnedtohateatsight，——andwastinglingwithakeensenseofshame。SundayafterSunday，puttingonhisbestclothes，hehadwalkedovertotheuntidyhousenorthofthePark，firsttoseeMaisie’spictures，andthentocriticiseandadviseuponthemasherealisedthattheywereproductionsonwhichadvicewouldnotbewasted。SundayafterSunday，andhislovegrewwitheachvisit，hehadbeencompelledtocramhisheartbackfrombetweenhislipswhenitpromptedhimtokissMaisieseveraltimesandverymuchindeed。SundayafterSunday，theheadabovethehearthadwarnedhimthatMaisiewasnotyetattainable，andthatitwouldbebettertotalkasconnectedlyaspossibleuponthemysteriesofthecraftthatwasallinalltoher。Thereforeitwashisfatetoendureweeklytortureinthestudiobuiltoutovertheclammybackgardenofafrailstuffylittlevillawherenothingwaseverinitsrightplaceandnobodyeverycalled，——toendureandtowatchMaisiemovingtoandfrowiththeteacups。Heabhorredtea，but，sinceitgavehimalittlelongertimeinherpresence，hedrankitdevoutly，andthered—hairedgirlsatinanuntidyheapandeyedhimwithoutspeaking。Shewasalwayswatchinghim。
　　Once，andonlyonce，whenshehadleftthestudio，Maisieshowedhimanalbumthatheldafewpoorcuttingsfromprovincialpapers，——thebriefestofhurriednotesonsomeofherpicturessenttooutlyingexhibitions。Dickstoopedandkissedthepaint—smudgedthumbontheopenpage。’Oh，mylove，mylove，’hemuttered，’doyouvaluethesethings？Chuck’emintothewaste—paperbasket！’
　　’NottillIgetsomethingbetter，’saidMaisie，shuttingthebook。
　　ThenDick，movedbynorespectforhispublicandaverydeepregardforthemaiden，diddeliberatelypropose，inordertosecuremoreofthesecovetedcuttings，thatheshouldpaintapicturewhichMaisieshouldsign。
　　’That’schildish，’saidMaisie，’andIdidn’tthinkitofyou。Itmustbemywork。Mine，——mine，——mine！’
　　’Goanddesigndecorativemedallionsforrichbrewers’houses。Youarethoroughlygoodatthat。’Dickwassickandsavage。
　　’Betterthingsthanmedallions，Dick，’wastheanswer，intonesthatrecalledagray—eyedatom’sfearlessspeechtoMrs。Jennett。Dickwouldhaveabasedhimselfutterly，butthatothergirltrailedin。
　　NextSundayhelaidatMaisie’sfeetsmallgiftsofpencilsthatcouldalmostdrawofthemselvesandcoloursinwhosepermanencehebelieved，andhewasostentatiouslyattentivetotheworkinhand。Itdemanded，amongotherthings，anexpositionofthefaiththatwasinhim。
　　Torpenhow’shairwouldhavestoodonendhadheheardthefluencywithwhichDickpreachedhisowngospelofArt。
　　Amonthbefore，Dickwouldhavebeenequallyastonished；butitwasMaisie’swillandpleasure，andhedraggedhiswordstogethertomakeplaintohercomprehensionallthathadbeenhiddentohimselfofthewhysandwhereforesofwork。Thereisnottheleastdifficultyindoingathingifyouonlyknowhowtodoit；thetroubleistoexplainyourmethod。
　　’IcouldputthisrightifIhadabrushinmyhand，’saidDick，despairingly，overthemodellingofachinthatMaisiecomplainedwouldnot’lookflesh，’——itwasthesamechinthatshehadscrapedoutwiththepaletteknife，——’butIfinditalmostimpossibletoteachyou。There’saqueergrin，DutchtouchaboutyourpaintingthatIlike；butI’veanotionthatyou’reweakindrawing。Youforeshortenasthoughyouneverusedthemodel，andyou’vecaughtKami’spastywayofdealingwithfleshinshadow。Then，again，thoughyoudon’tknowityourself，youshirkhardwork。Supposeyouspendsomeofyourtimeonlinelone。Linedoesn’tallowofshirking。Oilsdo，andthreesquareinchesofflashy，trickystuffinthecornerofapicsometimescarryabadthingoff，——asIknow。That’simmoral。Doline—workforalittlewhile，andthenIcantellmoreaboutyourpowers，asoldKamiusedtosay。’
　　Maisieprotested；shedidnotcareforthepureline。
　　’Iknow，’saidDick。’Youwanttodoyourfancyheadswithabunchofflowersatthebaseofthenecktohidebadmodelling。’Thered—hairedgirllaughedalittle。’Youwanttodolandscapeswithcattleknee—deepingrasstohidebaddrawing。Youwanttodoagreatdealmorethanyoucando。Youhavesenseofcolour，butyouwantform。Colour’sagift，——putitasideandthinknomoreaboutit，——butformyoucanbedrilledinto。
　　Now，allyourfancyheads——andsomeofthemareverygood——willkeepyouexactlywhereyouare。Withlineyoumustgoforwardorbackward，anditwillshowupallyourweaknesses。’
　　’Butotherpeople————’beganMaisie。
　　’Youmustn’tmindwhatotherpeopledo。Iftheirsoulswereyoursoul，itwouldbedifferent。Youstandandfallbyyourownwork，remember，andit’swasteoftimetothinkofanyoneelseinthisbattle。’
　　Dickpaused，andthelongingthathadbeensoresolutelyputawaycamebackintohiseyes。HelookedatMaisie，andthelookaskedasplainlyaswords，WasitnottimetoleaveallthisbarrenwildernessofcanvasandcounselandjoinhandswithLifeandLove？
　　MaisieassentedtothenewprogrammeofschoolingsoadorablythatDickcouldhardlyrestrainhimselffrompickingherupthenandthereandcarryingherofftothenearestregistrar’soffice。Itwastheimplicitobediencetothespokenwordandtheblankindifferencetotheunspokendesirethatbaffledandbuffetedhissoul。Heheldauthorityinthathouse，——authoritylimited，indeed，toone—halfofoneafternooninseven，butveryrealwhileitlasted。Maisiehadlearnedtoappealtohimonmanysubjects，fromtheproperpackingofpicturestotheconditionofasmokychimney。Thered—hairedgirlneverconsultedhimaboutanything。
　　Ontheotherhand，sheacceptedhisappearanceswithoutprotest，andwatchedhimalways。Hediscoveredthatthemealsoftheestablishmentwereirregularandfragmentary。Theydependedchieflyontea，pickles，andbiscuit，ashehadsuspectedfromthebeginning。Thegirlsweresupposedtomarketweekandweekabout，buttheylived，withthehelpofacharwoman，ascasuallyastheyoungravens。Maisiespentmostofherincomeonmodels，andtheothergirlrevelledinapparatusasrefinedasherworkwasrough。Armedwithknowledge，dear—boughtfromtheDocks，DickwarnedMaisiethattheendofsemi—starvationmeantthecripplingofpowertowork，whichwasconsiderablyworsethandeath。
　　Maisietookthewarning，andgavemorethoughttowhatsheateanddrank。Whenhistroublereturneduponhim，asitgenerallydidinthelongwintertwilights，theremembranceofthatlittleactofdomesticauthorityandhiscoercionwithahearth—brushofthesmokydrawing—roomchimneystungDicklikeawhip—lash。
　　Heconceivedthatthismemorywouldbetheextremeofhissufferings，tilloneSunday，thered—hairedgirlannouncedthatshewouldmakeastudyofDick’shead，andthathewouldbegoodenoughtositstill，and——quiteasanafterthought——lookatMaisie。Hesat，becausehecouldnotwellrefuse，andforthespaceofhalfanhourhereflectedonallthepeopleinthepastwhomhehadlaidopenforthepurposesofhisowncraft。HerememberedBinatmostdistinctly，——thatBinatwhohadoncebeenanartistandtalkedaboutdegradation。
　　Itwasthemerestmonochromeroughinginofahead，butitpresentedthedumbwaiting，thelonging，and，aboveall，thehopelessenslavementoftheman，inaspiritofbittermockery。
　　’I’llbuyit，’saidDick，promptly，’atyourownprice。’
　　’Mypriceistoohigh，butIdaresayyou’llbeasgratefulif————’Thewetsketch，flutteredfromthegirl’shandandfellintotheashesofthestudiostove。Whenshepickeditupitwashopelesslysmudged。
　　’Oh，it’sallspoiled！’saidMaisie。’AndIneversawit。Wasitlike？’
　　’Thankyou，’saidDickunderhisbreathtothered—hairedgirl，andheremovedhimselfswiftly。
　　’Howthatmanhatesme！’saidthegirl。’Andhowhelovesyou，Maisie！’
　　’Whatnonsense？IknewDick’sveryfondofme，buthehadhisworktodo，andIhavemine。’
　　’Yes，heisfondofyou，andIthinkheknowsthereissomethinginimpressionism，afterall。Maisie，can’tyousee？’
　　’See？Seewhat？’
　　’Nothing；only，IknowthatifIcouldgetanymantolookatmeasthatmanlooksatyou，I’d——Idon’tknowwhatI’ddo。Buthehatesme。Oh，howhehatesme！’
　　Shewasnotaltogethercorrect。Dick’shatredwastemperedwithgratitudeforafewmoments，andthenheforgotthegirlentirely。Onlythesenseofshameremained，andhewasnursingitacrosstheParkinthefog。’There’llbeanexplosiononeofthesedays，’hesaidwrathfully。’Butitisn’tMaisie’sfault；she’sright，quiteright，asfarassheknows，andI
　　can’tblameher。Thisbusinesshasbeengoingonforthreemonthsnearly。
　　Threemonths！——anditcostmetenyears’knockingabouttogetatthenotion，themerestrawnotion，ofmywork。That’strue；butthenIdidn’thavepins，drawing—pins，andpalette—knives，stuckintomeeverySunday。
　　Oh，mylittledarling，ifeverIbreakyou，somebodywillhaveaverybadtimeofit。No，shewon’t。I’dbeasbigafoolaboutherasIamnow。I’llpoisonthatred—hairedgirlonmywedding—day，——she’sunwholesome，——andnowI’llpassonthesepresentbadtimestoTorp。’
　　TorpenhowhadbeenmovedtolectureDickmorethanoncelatelyonthesinoflevity，andDickandlistenedandrepliednotaword。IntheweeksbetweenthefirstfewSundaysofhisdisciplinehehadflunghimselfsavagelyintohiswork，resolvedthatMaisieshouldatleastknowthefullstretchofhispowers。ThenhehadtaughtMaisiethatshemustnotpaytheleastattentiontoanyworkoutsideherown，andMaisiehadobeyedhimalltoowell。Shetookhiscounsels，butwasnotinterestedinhispictures。
　　’Yourthingssmelloftobaccoandblood，’shesaidonce。’Can’tyoudoanythingexceptsoldiers？’
　　’Icoulddoaheadofyouthatwouldstartleyou，’thoughtDick，——thiswasbeforethered—hairedgirlhadbroughthimundertheguillotine，——butheonlysaid，’Iamverysorry，’andharrowedTorpenhow’ssoulthateveningwithblasphemiesagainstArt。Later，insensiblyandtoalargeextentagainsthisownwill，heceasedtointeresthimselfinhisownwork。