come alive. God, man! if _that_ could only be exhibited
alongside the other! Look here!"

He dragged the easel that held Sibyl Andres' portrait to a place beside
the one upon which the canvas just finished rested, and drew back the
curtain. The effect was startling.

"'The Spirit of Nature' and 'The Spirit of the Age'," said Conrad
Lagrange, in a low tone.

"But you're ruined, my boy," he added gleefully. "You're ruined. These
canvases will never be exhibited Her own, she'll smash when she sees it;
and you'll be artistically damned by the very gods she has invoked to
bless you with fame and wealth. Lord, but I envy you! You have your chance
now--a real chance to be worthy your mother's sacrifice.

"Come on, let's get ready for the feast."

Chapter XXIX

The Hand Writing on the Wall

It was November. Nearly a year had passed since that day when the young
man on the Golden State Limited--with the inheritance he had received from
his mother's dying lips, and with his solemn promise to her still fresh in
his mind--looked into the eyes of the woman on the platform of the
observation car. That same day, too, he first saw the woman with the
disfigured face, and, for the first time, met the famous Conrad Lagrange.

Aaron King was thinking of these things as he set out, that evening, with
his friend, for the home of Mrs. Taine. He remarked to the novelist that
the time seemed, to him, many years.

"To me, Aaron," answered the strange man, "it has been the happiest
and--if you would not misunderstand me--the most satisfying year of my
life. And this"--he added, his deep voice betraying his emotion--"this has
been the happiest day of the year. It is your independence day. I shall
always celebrate it as such--I--I have no independence day of my own to
celebrate, you know."

Aaron King did not misunderstand.

As the two men approached the big house on Fairlands Heights, they saw
that modern palace, from concrete foundation to red-tiled roof, ablaze
with many lights. Situated upon the very topmost of the socially graded
levels of Fairlands, it outshone them all; and, quite likely, the
glittering display was mistaken by many dwellers in the valley below for a
new constellation of the heavenly bodies. Quite likely, too, some lonely
dweller, high up among the distant mountain peaks, looked down upon the
sparkling bauble that lay for the moment, as it were, on the wide lap of
the night, and smiled in quiet amusemen