he one Elinor made for the church,
you know," said Patricia to Miriam as they left the festive, disheveled
sitting-room to the rejuvenating hands of Hannah Ann and Henry, and
went with the chatting crowd into the big studio again. "Bruce
wouldn't have the luncheon in here because we couldn't get a good view
of it if the place was cluttered up with tables and things. He's
fearfully proud of it. He says it's as good as lots of regular artists
could do."

"She hasn't been studying long, has she?" asked Miriam, with her eyes
intent on the long blue curtain that screened the decoration from sight.

"Just last summer with Miss Auborn and Bruce, and then three months at
the Academy and with Bruce again," replied Patricia proudly. "Bruce
wouldn't let her stay at the Academy all the time. He thinks it's best
to work like the old masters used to, in the studio of some artist,
doing things right away. He didn't want Elinor's originality to get
barnacles, he said."

Bruce stepped to the space that had been with difficulty kept at the
west side of the studio, and stood before them with his hand raised.

"We asked you today to help us break up housekeeping," he said with his
winning smile; "but I must confess that I for one have deceived you. I
planned to get you all here for a totally different purpose, and I
trust you will approve of my craftiness when you have seen what I have
to show you."

"Sure we will," interposed Tom Hughes in an unexpectedly audible stage
whisper, which greatly confused him, but delighted Patricia and David.

"You all know," Bruce went on, "that I have been trying an experiment
of my favorite theory of art education, but very few of you know how it
has progressed. And it is to show you the result that I have lured you
here today--to crow over some of you, in fact. The canvas I am going
to show you was designed, executed as far as it has gone, entirely by
Miss Elinor Kendall, a student of hardly more than nine months' study.
The subject is the 'Nativity' and it is designed for a chancel in a
small church."

As the curtain was drawn from the long canvas Patricia's eyes were on
the faces of those in whose impressions she was most interested, and
they gave her great satisfaction. Mrs. Bingham's eyes were wide and
startled as those of the small hen who discovers that her ungainly
child is really a white swan.

"She won't be patronizing Elinor after this," thought Patricia with a
chuckle. "And