elling the truth? No, indeed." He was standing opposite
to his easel, looking at the canvas, shifting his head about so as to
change the lights, and observing critically this blemish and that;
and yet he was all the while thinking how he had best carry out his
purpose. "It will have been a prosperous picture to me," he said at
last, "if it leads to the success of which I am ambitious."

"I am told that all you do is successful now,--merely because you do
it. That is the worst of success."

"What is the worst of success?"

"That when won by merit it leads to further success, for the gaining
of which no merit is necessary."

"It may be so in my case. If it is not, I shall have a very poor
chance. Clara, I think you must know that I am not talking about my
pictures."

"I thought you were."

"Indeed I am not. As for success in my profession, far as I am from
thinking I merit it, I feel tolerably certain that I shall obtain
it."

"You have obtained it."

"I am in the way of doing so. Perhaps one out of ten struggling
artists is successful, and for him the profession is very charming.
It is certainly a sad feeling that there is so much of chance in the
distribution of the prizes. It is a lottery. But one cannot complain
of that when one has drawn the prize." Dalrymple was not a man
without self-possession, nor was he readily abashed, but he found it
easier to talk of his possession than to make his offer. The turban
was his difficulty. He had told himself over and over again within
the last five minutes, that he would have long since said what he
had to say had it not been for the turban. He had been painting all
his life from living models,--from women dressed up in this or that
costume, to suit the necessities of his picture,--but he had never
made love to any of them. They had been simply models to him, and now
he found that there was a difficulty. "Of that prize," he said, "I
have made myself tolerably sure; but as to the other prize, I do not
know. I wonder whether I am to have that." Of course Miss Van Siever
understood well what was the prize of which he was speaking; and as
she was a young woman with a will and purpose of her own, no doubt
she was already prepared with an answer. But it was necessary that
the question should be put to her in properly distinct terms. Conway
Dalrymple certainly had not put his question in properly distinct
terms at present. She did not choose to make any answer to his last
w