im home to dine, then Ronald began to wish that
Dora would leave off blushing and grow less shy, that she could talk a
little more, and that he might lose all fear of her making some
terrible blunder.

The third year of their married life dawned; Dora was just twenty, and
Ronald twenty-three. There had been no rejoicing when he had attained
his majority; it passed over unnoticed and unmarked. News came to them
from England, letters from the little farm in Kent, telling of simple
home intelligence, and letters from Lady Earle, always sad and stained
with tears. She had no good news to tell them. Lord Earle was well,
but he would never allow his son's name to be mentioned before him, and
she longed to see her son. In all her letters Lady Earle said: "Give
my love to Dora."

In this, the third year of his married life, Ronald began to feel the
pressure of poverty. His income was not more than three hundred a
year. To Dora this seemed boundless riches; but the heir of
Earlescourt had spent more in dress and cigars. Now debts began to
press upon him, writing home he knew was useless. He would not ask Lady
Earle, although he knew that she would have parted with the last jewel
in her case for him.

Ronald gave himself up to the study of painting. A pretty little
studio was built, and Dora spent long hours in admiring both her
husband and his work. He gave promise of being some day a good
artist--not a genius. The world would never rave about his pictures;
but, in time, he would be a conscientious, painstaking artist. Among
his small coterie of friends some approved, others laughed.

"Why not go to the Jews?" asked fashionable young men. "Earlescourt
must be yours some day. You can borrow money if you like."

Ronald steadily refused to entertain the idea. He wondered at modern
ideas of honor--that men saw no shame in borrowing upon the lives of
their nearest and dearest, yet thought it a disgrace to be a follower
of one of the grandest of arts. He made one compromise--that was for
his father's sake. As an artist, he was known by Dora's name of
Thorne, and, before long, Ronald Thorne's pictures were in great
request. There was no dash of genius about them; but they were careful
studies. Some few were sold, and the price realized proved no
unwelcome addition to a small income.

Ronald became known in Florence. People who had not thought much of
Mr. Earle were eager to know the clever artist and his prett