imself very
disagreeable by commenting unfavorably on the work in progress and
painting in particular. Then he brushed himself up and started off for
the rue Notre Dame des Champs, where Miss Snell's studio was situated.
It was one of a number huddled together in an old and rather dilapidated
building, and the porter at the entrance gave him minute directions as
to its exact location, but after stumbling up three flights of dark
stairs he had no trouble in finding it, for Miss Snell's name, preceded
by a number of initials, shone out from a door directly in front of him
as he reached the landing.

He knocked, and for several minutes there was a wild scurrying within
and a rattle and clash of crockery. Then Miss Snell appeared at the
door, and exclaimed, in delighted surprise:

"How _do_ you do? We had quite given you up."

She looked taller and longer than ever swathed in a blue painting-apron
and grasping her palette and brushes. She had to apologize for not
shaking hands with him, because her fingers were covered with paint that
had been hastily but ineffectually wiped off on a rag before she
answered his knock.

He murmured something about not coming before because of his work, but
she would not let him finish, saying, intensely,

"We know how precious every minute is to you."

Miss Price came reluctantly forward and shook hands; she had evidently
not been painting, for her fingers were quite clean. Short ragged hair
once more fell over her forehead, and the Painter felt a shock of
disappointment, and wondered why he had thought her so fine when she
passed him in the morning.

"I was just going to paint Cora," announced Miss Snell. "She is taking a
holiday this afternoon, and we were hunting for a pose when you
knocked."

"Don't let me interrupt you," he said, smiling. "Perhaps I can help."

Miss Snell was in a flutter at once, and protested that she should be
almost afraid to work while he was there.

"In that case I shall leave at once," he said; but his chair was
comfortable, and he made no motion to go.

"What a queer little place it is!" he reflected, as he looked about.
"All sorts of odds and ends stuck about helter-skelter, and the
house-keeping things trying to masquerade as bric-a-brac."

Cora Price looked decidedly sulky when she realized that the Painter
intended to stay, and seeing this he became rooted in his intention. He
wondered why she took this particular attitude towards him, and
co