,
tough though they were from outdoor work. I clenched my hands
involuntarily, and was thankful the artist could not see their palms.
That would have been a horrid humiliation; the very thought of it made
me flush. No, this shorthand would hardly be introduced at St.
Peter's; but I would learn it, I thought, all the same; and in due
course I did, to find (again in due course) that even the acquisition
of this mystery hardly represented quite the infallible key to fame
and fortune that Mr. Rawlence thought it in the 'seventies.

But my attitude toward this sufficiently casual suggestion was typical
of the immensely stirring and impressive influence which all the
artist's talk of that day had upon me. It was undoubtedly most kindly
of him to show all the interest he did in one from whom he could not
by any stretch of the imagination be said to have anything to gain. We
were quite old friends, he said, in his amiable way, by the time
evening approached, and we began to pack up his paraphernalia. My
crowning triumph came when, in leaving, he gave me his card, and wrote
my full name down in his dainty little pocket-book.

'When you do get to Sydney you must come and look me up without fail.
My studio is at the address on the card, and I'm generally to be found
there. Mind, I shall expect a call as soon as you arrive, and we will
talk things over. I'm certain you'll reach Sydney, by and by. Like
London, at home, you know, it's the magnet for all the ambitious here.
Good-bye, and best of good luck!'

'Mr. Charles Frederick Rawlence, Filson's House, Macquarie Street,
Sydney,' was what I read on the card. And then, in very small type in
one corner, 'Studio, 3rd Floor.'

I think it had been the most vividly exciting day in my life up till
then; and, though still an orphan, and officially an 'inmate,' I
walked among the clouds that night; a giant among dwarfs and slaves by
my way of it. Youth--aye, the immemorial magic of it was alive in my
blood on this spring night, if you like; and not all the Sister
Agathas in all the hierarchy of Rome had power to dull the wonder of
it!

VI

'If it's to be done at all, why not now? There's nothing to be gained
by waiting. I'm only wasting time.'

Phrases of this sort formed the burden of all my thoughts for a number
of weeks after my memorable 'day out' (as the servants say) with the
Sydney artist. I no longer debated with myself at all the question as
to whether or not I should