urgent business,
entrained for New York. Not that Mr. Gollop, having regard for the
_expressio falsi_ as compared with the _suppressio veri_, was strictly a
prevaricator or that he told the exact truth, because he had slipped
four whole days up his sleeve for his own entertainment; four whole days
in which he had not the slightest intention of visiting his firm; four
whole days that he intended to devote to art research, and
exploration--exploration of a wilderness known as MacDougall Alley. So
accurately did he time his movements that he invaded MacDougall Alley at
just eleven a.m., which he considered a proper hour to find an aspiring
artist at work while the light was most perfect and amenable. He was not
disappointed, which he regarded as proof of acumen; but he was
surprised by his surroundings. No bare-walled studio, this, but a rather
luxurious place. With a real rug on the floor, and real chairs to sit
upon, and a cosy seat, and electric lights instead of bare boards,
benches, charcoal brazier and tallow dips stuck in the necks of bottles
blown for better contents.

"See here! What troubles you, Bill Jones? Have I done anything you
didn't like?" demanded Mary Allen, as she extricated her thumb from the
hole of a palette on which oil paints proved that she had forsaken for
the moment her love of water colors.

"Why--why--I don't understand!" exclaimed Jimmy, helplessly.

"Don't understand? I thought you promised to write?"

"I did," admitted Jimmy; "but, you see, I was so busy and there were so
many people to talk to in my most seductive manner, and there were so
many things to be done, including people, that I clean overlooked it! I
did! I confess. But--I'm going to be here now at least a week," he added
hopefully, and not without insinuation.

"Hope you enjoy your visit," she said, and added rather maliciously, "I
am entirely engrossed in my work--this week."

He stared at her with a face as frankly dejected as that of a hurt boy;
then, his ever-present bouyancy reasserting itself, queried, "That's
good. By the way, do you ever use models?"

"Of course," she replied.

"Well, I've got nothing to do this week," he replied enthusiastically.
"I'll sit for you as a study in Disappointment, Flat-busted, or Return
from the Races. The title doesn't matter, because I'll be such an
excellent study for any sort of man whose hopes have all been knocked
flatter than a pancake."

"I know you can be gloomy enough w