a moment of electric
passion; but there was something so forced, and at the same time so
ineffectual in the execution of the feebly fantastic design, that it
became the duty of impartial criticism, to advise Mr. Ludlow, if he
must continue to paint at all, to paint either girls or flowers, but
not both at once, or both together, or convertibly.

Ludlow did not mind these criticisms much, being pretty well used to
that kind of thing, and feeling secure of his public in any event; but
Cornelia was deeply vexed. She knew that it must be evident to those
who knew her and knew him that she was the girl and she was the
hollyhocks, and though the origin of the picture was forever hid in the
memories of their first meeting, she was aware of a measure of justice
in the censure that condemned it for obscurity. She had not wished him
to show it, but here, as often elsewhere, she found him helpless to
yield to her, even though he confessed that she was right. He did not
try to justify himself, and he did not explain himself very clearly. "I
don't know how it is about one's work, exactly. Up to a certain point
you are master over it, and it seems to belong absolutely to you; but
beyond that it is its own master and does what it pleases with itself.
Of course I could have kept from showing that picture, and yet--I
must."

"Well, at least, then, you can keep from selling it," said Cornelia. "I
want it; give it to me."

"My dear, I will buy it for you. Mrs. Maybough became the owner of the
picture, yesterday, but I will offer her an advance on the price she
paid."

Cornelia now thought she was really angry with him for the first time
since their marriage. She would not speak at once, but when she did
speak, it was to say, "No, let her keep it. I know Charmian made her
buy it and I wouldn't like to take it from her. She has so much
imagination that maybe she can see some meaning in it and it will
always be such a pleasure to her to explain it even if she can't."

Charmian made the Ludlows a Bohemian dinner as soon as the people whom
she wanted got back to town. She said it was a Bohemian dinner, and she
asked artists, mostly; but of course she had the Westleys and their
friend Mrs. Rangeley. There were several of the Synthesis girls, who
said the Synthesis would never be itself again without Cornelia, and
there were some of the students, nice fellows, whom Charmian had liked;
there were, of course, the Wetmores. Ludlow's picture w