that Fairlands has to offer, Mr.
King," returned the novelist, in his grim, sarcastic humor. "God! how I
envy you!" he added, with a flash of earnest passion. "You are young--You
are beginning your life work--You are looking forward to success--You--"

"I _must_ succeed"--the painter interrupted impetuously--"I must."

"Succeed in _what_? What do you mean by success?"

"Surely, _you_ should understand what I mean by success," the younger man
retorted. "You who have gained--"

"Oh, yes; I forgot"--came the quick interruption--"I am the _famous_
Conrad Lagrange. Of course, you, too, must succeed. You must become the
_famous_ Aaron King. But perhaps you will tell me why you must, as you
call it, succeed?"

The artist hesitated before answering; then said with anxious earnestness,
"I don't think I can explain Mr. Lagrange. My mother--" he paused.

The older man stopped short, and, turning, stood for a little with his
face towards the mountains where San Bernardino's pyramid-like peak was
thrust among the stars. When he spoke, every bit of that bitter humor was
gone from his deep voice. "I beg your pardon, Mr. King"--he said
slowly--"I am as ugly and misshapen in spirit as in body."

But when they had walked some way--again in silence--and were drawing near
the hotel, the momentary change in his mood passed. In a tone of stinging
sarcasm he said. "You are on the right road, Mr. King. You did well to
come to Fairlands. It is quite evident that you have mastered the modern
technic of your art. To acquire fame, you have only to paint pictures of
fast women who have no morals at all--making them appear as innocent
maidens, because they have the price to pay, and, in the eyes of the
world, are of social importance. Put upon your canvases what the world
will call portraits of distinguished citizens--making low-browed
money--thugs to look like noble patriots, and bloody butchers of humanity
like benevolent saints. You need give yourself no uneasiness about your
success. It is easy. Get in with the right people; use your family name
and your distinguished ancestors; pull a few judicious advertising wires;
do a few artistic stunts; get yourself into the papers long and often, no
matter how; make yourself a fad; become a pet of the social autocrats--and
your fame is assured. And--you will be what I am."

The young man, quietly ignoring the humor of the novelist's words, said
protestingly, "But, surely, to portray human nature