bas-reliefs at the end of March, and the fine frieze running round the
little music-room. Mr. Field liked music little and had his room in
proportion.

Antony stood with Cedersholm in the studio where he had made his scheme
for the fountain and his first sketches. Cedersholm's design for the
base of the pedestal, designed to support the winged victory, was placed
against the wall. It was admirable, harmonious, noble.

Fairfax had seen Cedersholm work. The sculptor wore no apron, no blouse.
He dressed with his usual fastidiousness; his eyeglass adjusted, he
worked as neatly as a little old lady at her knitting, but his work had
not the quality of wool.

"What do you think of it, Fairfax?"

Fairfax started from his meditation. "It's immense," he murmured.

"You think it does not express what is intended?" Cedersholm's clever
eyes were directed at Fairfax. "What's the matter with it?"

Without reply, the young man took up a sheet of paper and a piece of
charcoal and drew steadily for a few seconds and held out the sheet.

"Something like this ... under the four corners ... wouldn't it give an
idea ... of life? The Sphinx is winged. Doesn't it seem as if its body
should rest on life?"

If Cedersholm had in mind to say, "You have quite caught my suggestion,"
he controlled this remark, covered his mouth with his hand, and
considered--he considered for a day or two. He then went to Washington
to talk with the architects of the new State Museum. And Fairfax once
more found the four walls of the quiet studio shutting him in ... found
himself inhabiting with the friendly silence and with the long days as
spring began to come.

* * * * *

He finished the modelling of his four curious, original creatures,
beasts intended to be the supports of the Sphinx. He finished his work
in Easter week, and wrote to Cedersholm begging for his directions and
authority to have them cast in bronze.

CHAPTER XVIII

The four beasts were of heroic size. They came out of the moulds like
creatures of a prehistoric age. Benvenuto Cellini, who was to have met
his friend Antony at the foundry on the day Fairfax's first plaster cast
was carried down, failed to put in an appearance, and Fairfax had the
lonely joy, the melancholy, lonely joy, of assisting at the birth of one
of his big creatures. All four of them were ultimately cast, but they
were to remain in the foundry until Cedersholm's return.

Hi