--a man
inventing new forms as naturally as other minds copy worn models. He was
gaining in conversational powers, as he came to know Mart better, and
took occasion to lay before him the plans for several inventions, small
in themselves, but of possible value, so Lucius said.

There was something hearty, wholesome, and satisfying in this visit, and
Bertha went away with increased liking for the McArdles. "I'm glad you
gave them a boost, Mart," she said, as they left the house, "and you
fixed it fine. Mac talked to me a half-hour explaining that you hadn't
put it on a charity basis--just sold the house on long time."

"That was Lucius's idea. Wasn't it, Lucius?"

Lucius did not appear to hear.

They were whirring down an avenue bordered by elms in expanding leaf,
the sky was filled with big white clouds like those which come and go
over the great domes of the Rockies, and the air was warm and sweet, not
yet dusked by the city's chimneys. Bertha's heart rose on joyous wing.
"Let's call and take the Mosses for a ride," she suggested.

"With all the pleasure in the world," he replied; and when they drew up
before the side door of the huge block, Bertha sprang out and hurried in
without waiting for Lucius to accompany her.

Mrs. Moss came to the studio door, and Bertha's shining face so wrought
upon her that she seized her and kissed her with sincere pleasure. "Joe,
here's Mrs. Haney."

Moss was modelling a small figure on a stand near one of the windows,
but left his work and came towards her with beaming smile. "What a
coincidence! We were just discussing you. How do you do? Shake my
arm--my hands are muddy." She took his outbent wrist and shook it with
frank heartiness. He explained: "I said you'd come back; Julia declared,
'No. Once she tastes the glories of New York, good-bye to Chicago and
the West.'"

Bertha interrupted: "I want you to lay off and go out for a whirl in our
machine."

"How gay!" cried Moss. "I ought to be working, for my rent is coming
due; but what's the diff? Here goes! Come on, Julia, we'll shut up shop
and let art wag."

Julia was doubtful. "You know you promised--"

"Of course I did--that's the prerogative of the artist. Come on, now;
I'll work to-night."

"To-night is the Hall's circus party."

"So it is! Well, no matter. I'm hungry for some whizzing, lashing, cool,
clear air."

Dodging behind a screen in the corner, like an actor "doing a stunt," he
reappeared a few moments la