aos of roses, peacocks, white ponies,
and blue ribbons. He did not give the complacent wraith any name, but
he took her for his heroine and grew quite fond of her, as well he
might, for he gifted her with every gift and grace under the sun, and
escorted her, unscathed, through trials which would have annihilated
any mortal woman.

Thanks to this inspiration, he got on swimmingly for a time, but
gradually the work lost its charm, and he forgot to compose, while he
sat musing, pen in hand, or roamed about the gay city to get some new
ideas and refresh his mind, which seemed to be in a somewhat unsettled
state that winter. He did not do much, but he thought a great deal and
was conscious of a change of some sort going on in spite of himself.
"It's genius simmering, perhaps. I'll let it simmer, and see what
comes of it," he said, with a secret suspicion all the while that it
wasn't genius, but something far more common. Whatever it was, it
simmered to some purpose, for he grew more and more discontented with
his desultory life, began to long for some real and earnest work to go
at, soul and body, and finally came to the wise conclusion that
everyone who loved music was not a composer. Returning from one of
Mozart's grand operas, splendidly performed at the Royal Theatre, he
looked over his own, played a few of the best parts, sat staring at the
busts of Mendelssohn, Beethoven, and Bach, who stared benignly back
again. Then suddenly he tore up his music sheets, one by one, and as
the last fluttered out of his hand, he said soberly to himself...

"She is right! Talent isn't genius, and you can't make it so. That
music has taken the vanity out of me as Rome took it out of her, and I
won't be a humbug any longer. Now what shall I do?"

That seemed a hard question to answer, and Laurie began to wish he had
to work for his daily bread. Now if ever, occurred an eligible
opportunity for 'going to the devil', as he once forcibly expressed it,
for he had plenty of money and nothing to do, and Satan is proverbially
fond of providing employment for full and idle hands. The poor fellow
had temptations enough from without and from within, but he withstood
them pretty well, for much as he valued liberty, he valued good faith
and confidence more, so his promise to his grandfather, and his desire
to be able to look honestly into the eyes of the women who loved him,
and say "All's well," kept him safe and steady.

Very likely