him in September he went to pay a few visits in
the country, and on his return, a month later, to the studio building
he found that things had not gone well with Caspar. The little sculptor
had caught cold, and the labour and expense of converting his gigantic
offspring into marble seemed to hang heavily upon him. He and Kate were
living in a damp company of amorphous clay monsters, unfinished
witnesses to the creative frenzy which had seized him after the sale of
his group; and the doctor had urged that his patient should be removed
to warmer and drier lodgings. But to uproot Caspar was impossible, and
his sister could only feed the stove, and swaddle him in mufflers and
felt slippers.

Stanwell found that during his absence Mungold had reappeared, fresh
and rosy from a summer in Europe, and as prodigal as ever of the only
form of attention which Kate could be counted on not to resent. The
game and champagne reappeared with him, and he seemed as ready as
Stanwell to lend a patient ear to Caspar's homilies. But Stanwell could
see that, even now, Kate had not forgiven him for the Cupids. Stanwell
himself had spent the early winter months in idleness. The sight of his
tools filled him with a strange repugnance, and he absented himself as
much as possible from the studio. But Shepson's visit roused him to the
fact that he must decide on some definite course of action. If he
wished to follow up his success of the previous spring he must refuse
no more orders: he must not let Mrs. Van Orley slip away from him. He
knew there were competitors enough ready to profit by his hesitations,
and since his success was the result of a whim, a whim might undo it.
With a sudden gesture of decision he caught up his hat and left the
studio.

On the landing he met Kate Arran. She too was going out, drawn forth by
the sudden radiance of the January afternoon. She met him with a smile
which seemed the answer to his uncertainties, and he asked abruptly if
she had time to take a walk with him.

Yes; for once she had time, for Mr. Mungold was sitting with Caspar,
and had promised to remain till she came in. It mattered little to
Stanwell that Mungold was with Caspar as long as he himself was with
Kate; and he instantly soared to the suggestion that they should
prolong the painter's vigil by taking the "elevated" to the Park. In
this too his companion acquiesced after a moment of surprise: she
seemed in a consenting mood, and Stanwell augured