do anything.
He must do for himself. I simply offer him the chance. He 's to study,
to work--hard, I hope."

"Not too hard, please," murmured Mrs. Hudson, pleadingly, wheeling about
from recent visions of dangerous leisure. "He 's not very strong, and I
'm afraid the climate of Europe is very relaxing."

"Ah, study?" repeated Mr. Striker. "To what line of study is he to
direct his attention?" Then suddenly, with an impulse of disinterested
curiosity on his own account, "How do you study sculpture, anyhow?"

"By looking at models and imitating them."

"At models, eh? To what kind of models do you refer?"

"To the antique, in the first place."

"Ah, the antique," repeated Mr. Striker, with a jocose intonation. "Do
you hear, madam? Roderick is going off to Europe to learn to imitate the
antique."

"I suppose it 's all right," said Mrs. Hudson, twisting herself in a
sort of delicate anguish.

"An antique, as I understand it," the lawyer continued, "is an image of
a pagan deity, with considerable dirt sticking to it, and no arms, no
nose, and no clothing. A precious model, certainly!"

"That 's a very good description of many," said Rowland, with a laugh.

"Mercy! Truly?" asked Mrs. Hudson, borrowing courage from his urbanity.

"But a sculptor's studies, you intimate, are not confined to the
antique," Mr. Striker resumed. "After he has been looking three or four
years at the objects I describe"--

"He studies the living model," said Rowland.

"Does it take three or four years?" asked Mrs. Hudson, imploringly.

"That depends upon the artist's aptitude. After twenty years a real
artist is still studying."

"Oh, my poor boy!" moaned Mrs. Hudson, finding the prospect, under every
light, still terrible.

"Now this study of the living model," Mr. Striker pursued. "Inform Mrs.
Hudson about that."

"Oh dear, no!" cried Mrs. Hudson, shrinkingly.

"That too," said Rowland, "is one of the reasons for studying in Rome.
It 's a handsome race, you know, and you find very well-made people."

"I suppose they 're no better made than a good tough Yankee," objected
Mr. Striker, transposing his interminable legs. "The same God made us."

"Surely," sighed Mrs. Hudson, but with a questioning glance at her
visitor which showed that she had already begun to concede much weight
to his opinion. Rowland hastened to express his assent to Mr. Striker's
proposition.

Miss Garland looked up, and, after a moment's hesitation: "Are