hts often returned to the friendly circle in Taft's studio, and
late in February I was keenly interested in a letter from Lorado in
which he informed me that Wallace Heckman, Attorney for The Art
Institute, had offered to give the land to found a summer colony of
artists and literary folk on the East bank of Rock River about one
hundred miles west of Chicago. "You are to be one of the trustees,"
Lorado wrote, "and as soon as you get back, Mr. Heckman wants to take us
all out to look at the site for the proposed camp."

My return to Chicago on the first day of March landed me in the midst of
a bleak period of raw winds, filthy slush and all-pervading grime--but
with hopes which my new contract with Macmillans had inspired I defied
the weather. I rejoined Lorado's circle at once in the expectation of
meeting his sister, and in this I was not disappointed.

Lorado referred at once to Heckman's offer to deed to our group a tract
of land. "He wants you to be one of the trustees and has invited us all
to go out at once and inspect the site."

Upon learning that Miss Taft was to be one of the members of the colony
I accepted the trusteeship very readily. With three thousand dollars
advance royalty in sight, I began to imagine myself establishing a
little home somewhere in or near Chicago, and the idea of an
inexpensive summer camp such as my artist friends had in mind, appealed
to me strongly.

Alas for my secret hopes!--Whether on this tour of inspection or a few
days later I cannot now be sure, but certainly close upon this date
Lorado (moved by some confiding remark concerning my interest in his
sister Zulime) explained to me with an air of embarrassment that I must
not travel any farther in that direction. "Sister Zuhl came back from
Paris not to paint or model but to be married. She is definitely
committed to another man." He finally, bluntly said.

This was a bitter defeat. Although one takes such blows better at
thirty-nine than at nineteen, one doesn't lightly say "Oh, well--such is
life!" I was in truth disheartened. All my domestic plans fell with a
crash. My interest in the colony cooled. The camp suppers lost their
charm.

It is only fair to me to say that Miss Taft had never indicated in any
way that she was mortgaged to another, and no one--so far as I could
see, was more in her favor than I, hence I was not entirely to blame in
the case. My inferences were logical. So far as her words and actions
were con