all panes of garret windows; yet every sordid detail touched and
transfigured with the poetry and romance of youth and genius.

"You have seen this?" she said.

"Yes; it is a study from my window. One must go high for such effects.
You would be surprised if you could see how different the air and
sunshine"--

"No," she interrupted gently, "I HAVE seen it."

"You?" he repeated, gazing at her curiously.

Helen ran the point of her slim finger along the sketch until it
reached a tiny dormer window in the left-hand corner, half-hidden by an
irregular chimney-stack. The curtains were closely drawn. Keeping her
finger upon the spot, she said, interrogatively, "And you saw THAT
window?"

"Yes, quite plainly. I remember it was always open, and the room seemed
empty from early morning to evening, when the curtains were drawn."

"It is my room," she said simply.

Their eyes met with this sudden confession of their equal poverty. "And
mine," he said gayly, "from which this view was taken, is in the rear
and still higher up on the other street."

They both laughed as if some singular restraint had been removed; Helen
even forgot the incident of the bread in her relief. Then they compared
notes of their experiences, of their different concierges, of their
housekeeping, of the cheap stores and the cheaper restaurants of
Paris,--except one. She told him her name, and learned that his was
Philip, or, if she pleased, Major Ostrander. Suddenly glancing at her
companions, who were ostentatiously lingering at a little distance,
she became conscious for the first time that she was talking quite
confidentially to a very handsome man, and for a brief moment wished,
she knew not why, that he had been plainer. This momentary restraint was
accented by the entrance of a lady and gentleman, rather distingue in
dress and bearing, who had stopped before them, and were eying
equally the artist, his work, and his companion with somewhat insolent
curiosity. Helen felt herself stiffening; her companion drew himself up
with soldierly rigidity. For a moment it seemed as if, under that banal
influence, they would part with ceremonious continental politeness, but
suddenly their hands met in a national handshake, and with a frank smile
they separated.

Helen rejoined her companions.

"So you have made a conquest of the recently acquired but unknown
Greek statue?" said Mademoiselle Renee lightly. "You should take up
a subscription to restore his