the course of a few days
went a wealthy broker whose sign was three balls. He liked the picture,
but bargained that himself should sit on the sofa. His offer was
generous. Stone, to do him justice, demurred, for all Bohemia, at least,
knew the room. But Mrs. Paula wept at the thought of the lost hundreds,
and he succumbed. The result, at the owner's insistence, was exhibited.
The lady returned as unexpectedly as she had flown, and was asked at
every step if she had "seen her room." Scenting mystery, she went
to the gallery; and stood petrified before the faithful presentment
of her cherry-colored satin boudoir, the very edge of the sofa
accommodating a large gentleman with an eminent nose, a bulging
shirt-front--diamond-studded--and knees long severed. He looked like a
Hebraic Gulliver in Lilliput, and the unities were in tatters. She
stared, stuttered, wept. And then she descended upon Stone.

Gwynne laughed heartily as Isabel related the episode, but they fell
into silence after they crossed the bridge and were able to accelerate
their pace. He made no effort to break it, although Isabel had never
found him more polite. She also thought him vastly improved with his
thick coat of tan, and almost picturesque in his khaki riding-clothes
and high boots. There were more subtle changes in him which it was too
warm and dusty to speculate upon at the moment.

Gwynne had restrained his spontaneous delight in seeing Isabel again.
Not only did he have a genuine grievance in her neglect of him, but he
had no intention that she should fancy he had need of anything she could
give him, beyond superficial companionship and advice. More than once
during the past weeks he had caught himself longing so miserably for her
sympathy and the support of her strong independent character that it had
alarmed him. He realized for the first time what a prop and resource the
deep maturity and scornful strength of his mother had been. He must
brace and reinforce his character at all points if he persisted in his
determination to achieve the colossal task he had set for himself.
Woman's sympathy was all very well for some men, or for him in more
toward circumstances, but he had looked deeply into himself and been
terrified at unsuspected weaknesses. He had set his teeth and determined
to fight his fight alone. If he failed, at least he would have the
consolation of never having cried out to a woman: "Give me your help! I
need you!"

He did not bet