my house.
If I must have it anywhere on the premises I prefer the garden to the
morning-room."

"Cattle drives are not in my line," said Eshley; "if I remember I told
you so at the outset." "I quite agree," retorted the lady, "painting
pretty pictures of pretty little cows is what you're suited for. Perhaps
you'd like to do a nice sketch of that ox making itself at home in my
morning-room?"

This time it seemed as if the worm had turned; Eshley began striding
away.

"Where are you going?" screamed Adela.

"To fetch implements," was the answer.

"Implements? I won't have you use a lasso. The room will be wrecked if
there's a struggle."

But the artist marched out of the garden. In a couple of minutes he
returned, laden with easel, sketching-stool, and painting materials.

"Do you mean to say that you're going to sit quietly down and paint that
brute while it's destroying my morning-room?" gasped Adela.

"It was your suggestion," said Eshley, setting his canvas in position.

"I forbid it; I absolutely forbid it!" stormed Adela.

"I don't see what standing you have in the matter," said the artist; "you
can hardly pretend that it's your ox, even by adoption."

"You seem to forget that it's in my morning-room, eating my flowers,"
came the raging retort.

"You seem to forget that the cook has neuralgia," said Eshley; "she may
be just dozing off into a merciful sleep and your outcry will waken her.
Consideration for others should be the guiding principle of people in our
station of life."

"The man is mad!" exclaimed Adela tragically. A moment later it was
Adela herself who appeared to go mad. The ox had finished the
vase-flowers and the cover of "Israel Kalisch," and appeared to be
thinking of leaving its rather restricted quarters. Eshley noticed its
restlessness and promptly flung it some bunches of Virginia creeper
leaves as an inducement to continue the sitting.

"I forget how the proverb runs," he observed; "of something about 'better
a dinner of herbs than a stalled ox where hate is.' We seem to have all
the ingredients for the proverb ready to hand."

"I shall go to the Public Library and get them to telephone for the
police," announced Adela, and, raging audibly, she departed.

Some minutes later the ox, awakening probably to the suspicion that oil
cake and chopped mangold was waiting for it in some appointed byre,
stepped with much precaution out of the morning-room, stared with grave
i