of Judy's powers of
attraction than jealousy, was dispelled for the time being.

CHAPTER XII.

THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER.

The winter went merrily on. Elise and Judy worked diligently at
Julien's, the hard academic drawing being good for them and helping to
counteract a tendency both had to rather slipshod methods. They gave
only the morning to the school and in the afternoon looked at pictures
or painted at home, if they could get a model among their acquaintances.

Judy made some charming memory sketches of the Paris streets. Seeing
some bit that took her fancy, going or coming, she would burn to get her
impression on canvas. She could hardly wait to get her hat and coat off,
but would come tearing into the studio, pulling off her wraps as she
came, hair flying, cheeks glowing, looking very like Brer Rabbit, Molly
declared, when he ran down the hill with the six tin plates fer the
chillun to sop outen; and the six tin cups fer the chillun to drink
outen; the coffee pot fer the fambly; and the hankcher fer hisself,
hollerin': "Gimme room, gimme room". They gave her room, all right,
especially if her medium happened to be water color, as Judy was a grand
splasher and spared neither water nor paint.

Elise was delighting in her steady work, the first she had ever been
allowed to do. She lacked Judy's sense of color but on the other hand
was very clever at sketching and getting a likeness, and had inherited
her father's inimitable powers of caricature.

"Oh," sighed Judy, "if I could only get the people in my memory sketches
to stand on their legs and seem to move as yours do, Elise, how happy I
should be!"

"And I," said Elise, "would give anything if I could see and put on
canvas the lovely colors that you can. I can't see anything but drab,
somehow. It must be a somberness of disposition that affects my
eyesight."

"But, Elise," broke in Molly, "you are not somber at all. You are full
of jokes and _bon mots_."

"Oh, that is just my way here with all of you lovely, good, happy
people. I am usually very dull and sober. Mamma says I can be the
stupidest company in all the world, and I am sure she is right."

Elise had indeed blossomed in the congenial atmosphere in which she
found herself for the first time in her life. Mr. Kinsella watched her
eagerly, seeing many things about her to remind him of his old friend
George O'Brien; and when the girl occasionally let drop some of the
worldly cynicism that s