air time, Cornelia went to see Mrs.
Burton. It was warm, and Mrs. Burton brought out a fan for her on the
piazza.

"Oh, I'm not hot," said Cornelia. "Mrs. Burton, I've made up my mind to
go to New York this winter, and study art."

"I _knew_ you would, Nie!" Mrs. Burton exulted.

"Yes. I've thought it all out. I've got the money, now. I keep wanting
to paint, and I don't know whether I can or not, and the only way is to
go and find out. It'll be easy enough to come home. I'll keep money
enough to pay my way back."

"Yes," said Mrs. Burton, "it's the only way. But I guess you'll find
out you can paint fast enough. It's a pretty good sign you can, if you
want to."

"Oh, I don't know. Some girls want to write poetry awfully, and can't.
Mrs. Burton," she broke off, with a nervous laugh, "I don't suppose you
expect that Mr. Ludlow out to the fair this year?"

"No, Nelie, I don't," said Mrs. Burton, with tender reluctance.

"Because," said the girl with another laugh, "he might save me a trip
to New York, if he could see my drawings." Something, she did not know
what, in Mrs. Burton's manner, made her ask: "Have you heard from him
lately? Perhaps _he's_ given it up, too!"

"Oh, no!" sighed Mrs. Burton, with a break from her cheerfulness with
Cornelia, which set its voluntary character in evidence to the girl's
keen, young perception. "But he seemed to be rather discouraged about
the prospects of artists when he wrote." She was afraid Cornelia might
ask her when he had written. "He seemed to think the ranks were very
full. He's a very changeable person. He's always talked, before now,
about there being plenty of room at the top."

"Well, that's where I expect to be," said the girl, smiling but
trembling. She turned the talk, and soon rose to go, ignoring to the
last Mrs. Burton's forced efforts to recur to her plan of studying art
in New York. Now she said: "Mrs. Burton, there's one thing I'd like to
ask you," and she lifted her eyes upon her with a suddenness that
almost made Mrs. Burton jump.

"What is it, Nelie?"

"You've always been so good to me--and--and taken such an interest,
that I'm afraid--I thought you might try--I want you to promise me you
won't write to Mr. Ludlow about me, or ask him to do the least thing,
for me!"

"I won't, I won't indeed, Nelie!" Mrs. Burton promised with grateful
perfervor.

"Because," said the girl, taking her skirt in her left hand,
preparatory to lifting it for her desc