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the high spheres in which he moved, and in which he was esteemed for
painting pearls better, and making unsuggestive children look lovelier,
than any of his fellow-craftsmen. Mr. Mungold, in fact, deemed it a
part of his professional duty to study his sitters in their home-life;
and as this life was chiefly led in the homes of others, he was too
busy dining out and going to the opera to mingle much with his
colleagues. But as no one is wholly consistent, Mr. Mungold had lately
belied his ambitions by falling in love with Kate Arran; and with that
gentle persistency which made him so wonderful in managing obstreperous
infantile sitters, he had contrived to establish a precarious footing
in her brother's studio.

Part of his success was due to the fact that he could not easily think
himself the object of a rebuff. If it seemed to hit him he regarded it
as deflected from its aim, and brushed it aside with a discreet
gesture. A touch of comedy was lent to the situation by the fact that,
till Kate Arran's coming, Mungold had always served as her brother's
Awful Example. It was a mark of Arran's lack of humour that he
persisted in regarding the little man as a conscious apostate, instead
of perceiving that he painted as he could, in a world which really
looked to him like a vast confectioner's window. Stanwell had never
quite divined how Mungold had won over the sister, to whom her
brother's prejudices were a religion; but he suspected the painter of
having united a deep belief in Caspar's gifts with the occasional offer
of opportune delicacies--the port-wine or game which Kate had no other
means of procuring for her patient.

Stanwell, persuaded that Mungold would stick to his post till Miss
Arran's return, felt himself freed from his promise to the latter and
left the incongruous pair to themselves. There had been a time when it
amused him to see Caspar submerge the painter in a torrent of turbid
eloquence, and to watch poor Mungold sputtering under the rush of
denunciation, yet emitting little bland phrases of assent, like a
gentleman drowning correctly, in gloves and eye-glasses. But Stanwell
was beginning to find less food for gaiety than for envy in the
contemplation of his colleague. After all, Mungold held his ground, he
did not go under. Spite of his manifest absurdity he had succeeded in
propitiating the sister, in making himself tolerated by the brother;
and the fact that his success was due to the ability to p