ay."

The truth of this diagnosis became suddenly vivid to Stanwell. How dull
of him not to have seen before that it was not cold or privation which
was killing Caspar--not anxiety for his sister's future, nor the ache
of watching her daily struggle--but simply the cankering thought that
he might die before he had made himself known! It was his vanity that
was starving to death, and all Mungold's hampers could not appease that
hunger. Stanwell was not shocked by the discovery--he was only the more
sorry for the little man, who was, after all, denied that solace of
self-sufficiency which his talk so noisily proclaimed. His lot seemed
hard enough when Stanwell had pictured him as buoyed up by the scorn of
public opinion--it became tragic if he was denied that support. The
artist wondered if Kate had guessed her brother's secret, or if she
were still the dupe of his stoicism. Stanwell was sure that the
sculptor would take no one into his confidence, and least of all his
sister, whose faith in his artistic independence was the chief prop of
that tottering pose. Kate's penetration was not great, and Stanwell
recalled the incredulous smile with which she had heard him defend poor
Mungold's "sincerity" against Caspar's assaults; but she had the
insight of the heart, and where her brother's happiness was concerned
she might have seen deeper than any of them. It was this last
consideration which took the strongest hold on Stanwell--he felt
Caspar's sufferings chiefly through the thought of his sister's
possible disillusionment.

IV

WITHIN three months two events had set the studio building talking.
Stanwell had painted a full-length portrait of Mrs. Archer Millington,
and Caspar Arran had received an order to execute his group in marble.

The name of the sculptor's patron had not been divulged. The order came
through Shepson, who explained that an American customer living abroad,
having seen a photograph of the group in one of the papers, had at once
cabled home to secure it. He intended to bestow it on a public building
in America, and not wishing to advertise his munificence, had preferred
that even the sculptor should remain ignorant of his name. The group
bought by an enlightened compatriot for the adornment of a civic
building in his native land! There could hardly be a more complete
vindication of unappreciated genius, and Caspar made the most of the
argument. He was not exultant, he was sublimely magnanimous. He ha