folk in going to an expense of training this young man. I
should say, yes, decidedly; but still, to make everything safe, you had
better get the judgment of a sculptor."

Warner was in New York. I wrote him, and he said he would fetch up
Ward--which he did. Yesterday they went to the Gerhardts and spent two
hours, and Ward came away bewitched with those people and marveling
at the winning innocence of the young wife, who dropped naturally into
model-attitude beside the statue (which is stark naked from head to
heel, now--G. had removed the drapery, fearing Ward would think he was
afraid to try legs and hips) just as she has always done before.

Livy and I had two long talks with Ward yesterday evening. He spoke
strongly. He said, "if any stranger had told me that this apprentice did
not model that thing from plaster casts, I would not have believed it."
He said "it is full of crudities, but it is full of genius, too. It is
such a statue as the man of average talent would achieve after two
years training in the schools. And the boldness of the fellow, in going
straight to nature! He is an apprentice--his work shows that, all over;
but the stuff is in him, sure. Hartford must send him to Paris--two
years; then if the promise holds good, keep him there three more--and
warn him to study, study, work, work, and keep his name out of the
papers, and neither ask for orders nor accept them when offered."

Well, you see, that's all we wanted. After Ward was gone Livy came out
with the thing that was in her mind. She said, "Go privately and start
the Gerhardts off to Paris, and say nothing about it to any one else."

So I tramped down this morning in the snow-storm--and there was a
stirring time. They will sail a week or ten days from now.

As I was starting out at the front door, with Gerhardt beside me and
the young wife dancing and jubilating behind, this latter cried out
impulsively, "Tell Mrs. Clemens I want to hug her--I want to hug you
both!"

I gave them my old French book and they were going to tackle the
language, straight off.

Now this letter is a secret--keep it quiet--I don't think Livy would
mind my telling you these things, but then she might, you know, for she
is a queer girl.

Yrs ever,
MARK.

Champney was J. Wells Champney, a portrait-painter of distinction;
Ward was the sculptor, J. Q. A. Ward.

The Gerhardts wer