lessons, and I guess she could
get along till then."

Ludlow stared at the amiably smiling creature. From her unruffled
composure his warning had apparently fallen like water from the back of
a goose. He saw that it would be idle to go on, and he stopped short
and waited for her to speak again.

"If she was to go to New York to take lessons, how do you think she'd
better----" She seemed not to know enough of the situation to formulate
her question farther. He had pity on her ignorance, though he doubted
whether he ought to have.

"Oh, go into the Synthesis," he said briefly.

"The Synthesis?"

"Yes; the Synthesis of Art Studies; it's the only thing. The work is
hard, but it's thorough; the training's excellent, if you live through
it."

"Oh, I guess she'd live through it," said the mother with a laugh. She
added, "I don't know as I know just what you mean by the Synthesis of
Art Studies."

"It's a society that the art-students have formed. They have their own
building, and casts, and models; the principal artists have classes
among them. You submit a sketch, and if you get in you work away till
you drop, if you're in earnest, or till you're bored, if you're amusing
yourself."

"And should you think," said the mother gesturing toward him with the
sketches in her hand, "that she could get in?"

"I think she could," said Ludlow, and he acted upon a sudden impulse.
He took a card from his pocketbook, and gave it to the mother. "If
you'll look me up when you come to New York, or let me know, I may be
of use to you, and I shall be very glad to put you in the way of
getting at the Synthesis."

"Thanks," the mother drawled with her eyes on the card. She probably
had no clear sense of the favor done her. She lifted her eyes and
smiled on Ludlow with another kind of intelligence. "You're visiting at
Mrs. Burton's."

"Yes," said Ludlow, remembering after a moment of surprise how
pervasive the fact of a stranger's presence in a village is. "Mr.
Burton can tell you who I am," he added in some impatience with her
renewed scrutiny of his card.

"Oh, it's all right," she said, and she put it in her pocket, and then
she began to drift away a little. "Well, I'm sure I'm much obliged to
you." She hesitated a moment, and then she said, "Well, good
afternoon."

"Good-by," said Ludlow, and he lifted his hat and stood bowing her out
of the Fine Arts Department, while she kept her eyes on him to the last
with admiration and