her
center-table with copies of Shakespeare and of Milton.

To be sure, she occasionally read a novel or a book of poems a trifle
less ancient in character, but never unless the world had rung with the
author's praises for at least a score of years. The stamp of Time's
approval was absolutely necessary to the aspirant after Mrs.
Livingstone's approbation. Indeed, there was only one of the
present-day celebrities who interested the good lady at all, but that
one attracted with a power that compensated for any lack in the others.
She would have given much--had it been hers to give--to once meet that
man.

Of course he was famous--he had been for thirty years. She called him
the "Inimitable One," and set him up in her heart and groveled joyfully
at his feet. She bought each of his books when published, whether she
had shoes to her feet or clothes to her back. He was the Prophet--the
High Priest--the embodiment of Art. She occasionally even allowed his
books to rest on the table along with Milton and Shakespeare.

Mrs. Livingstone's husband was only an ordinary being who knew nothing
whatever of Art; and it was a relief to her--and perhaps to him, poor
man--when he departed this life, and left her to an artistic widowhood
with anything but an artistic income--if size counts in Art. But one
must eat, and one must wear clothes (in chilly, civilized Boston, at
least), and Mrs. Livingstone suddenly realized that something must be
done toward supplying these necessities of life for herself and her
young daughter, Mabel.

It was at about this time that there came a sharp ring at the doorbell,
and a stout man with small, but very bright, black eyes asked to see
Mrs. Livingstone.

"I have come, my dear madam, on a matter of business," said he suavely;
"and though I am a stranger to you, you certainly are not one to me. I
said 'business,' madam, yet I and the one for whom I am speaking are so
anxious that you should look favorably upon our proposition that I had
almost said that I had come to ask a favor."

Mrs. Livingstone relaxed from the forbidding aspect she had assumed,
and looked mildly interested.

"A gentleman wishes to leave his house in your charge, madam. The
house is advertised for sale, and from time to time parties may wish to
see it. He would like it to be in the care of some one who will
understand how to show it to the best advantage, you see."

Mrs. Livingstone's back straightened, and her chin