of the women she had known hitherto was
uninteresting because it was like her own. But Katherine was unlike all
other women, and she had taken Audrey's fancy. Audrey was always
devising pretty little excuses for calling, always bringing in hothouse
flowers, or the last hothouse novel, which Katherine positively _must_
read; until, by dint of a naive persistency, she won the right to come
and go as she pleased. As for Katherine, she considered that a beautiful
woman is exempt from criticism; and so long as she could watch Audrey
moving about, arranging flowers with dainty fastidious touches, or lying
back on the couch in some reckless but perfect pose, she reserved her
judgment. She rejoiced in her presence for its beauty's sake. She loved
the curves of her limbs, the play of her dimples, the shifting lights in
her hair. But she had to pay for the pleasure these things afforded her,
and "man's time" became a frequent item in the account. Katherine had
set her heart on Ted's studying in Paris for six months, and was trying
hard to make enough money to send him there. With this absorbing object
in view, she herself worked equally well whether Audrey were in the
studio or out of it; but it seemed that Ted's powers were either
paralysed or diverted into another channel from the moment she came in.
The baby was trying to solve a problem which had puzzled wiser heads
than his. But he had no clue to the labyrinth of Audrey's soul; he was
not even certain whether she was an intelligent being, though to doubt
it was blasphemy against the divine spirit of beauty.

His researches took him very often to Chelsea Gardens, and most of his
spare time not spent there was employed in running errands to and fro.
Owing to these distractions his nerves became quite unhinged, and for
the first time in his life he began to show signs of a temper. He had
been full of the Paris scheme at first, but he had not spoken of it now
for at least a month.

He had just sat down for the twentieth time to a study of Katherine's
head as "Sappho," and had thrown down his palette in disgust,
exclaiming--

"What's the use of keeping your mouth still, if your confounded eyes
giggle?" when a note arrived from Miss Craven.

You can't step out of a violent passion all in a minute, and perhaps
that was the reason why Ted's hands trembled a little as he tore open
the envelope and read--

"DEAR MR. HAVILAND,--Do come over at once. I'm in a dreadful fix,