love with the works of the Swedish master as he had seen them in
photograph and plaster cast at the exposition in New Orleans. He had
read all the accounts in the papers he could find of the great Swede.
When he learned that Gunner Cedersholm was in Europe and that he should
not be able to see him until spring, poor Antony longed to stow himself
on a ship and follow the artist.

Meanwhile, the insignificant fact that an insignificant piece of
modelling had been accepted by an inadvertent jury and placed in the New
York Academy, began to appear to him ridiculous. He had not ventured to
mention this to any one, and the fact that at his fingers' ends lay
undoubted talent began to seem to him a useless thing as well. The only
moment of balm he knew came to him one afternoon in the Metropolitan
Museum. This museum was at that period sparsely dowered. Fairfax stood
before a plaster figure of Rameses, and for the first time the young
artist saw around him the effigies of an art long perfect, long retained
and long dead.

Turning down through the Egyptian room, his overcoat on his arm, for,
thank Heaven, the place was warmed, his beauty-loving eyes fell on the
silent objects whose presence was meed and balm. He took in the
nourishment of the food to his senses and the colour in his cheeks
brightened, the blue deepened in his eyes. He was repeating the line:
"Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time ..." when two living objects
caught his attention, in a room beyond devoted to a collection of
shells. Before a low case stood the figure of a very little boy in a
long awkward ulster and jockey cap, and by his side, in a conspicuously
short crimson skirt and a rough coat, was a little girl. Her slender
legs and her abundant hair that showered from beneath a crimson
tam-o'-shanter recalled Miss Mitty's description of Bella; but Antony
knew her for herself when she turned.

"Cousin Antony!" She rushed at him. Childlike, the two made no reference
to the lapse of time between his first visit and this second meeting.
Gardiner took his hand and Antony thought the little boy clung to it,
seized it with singular appealing force, as though he made a refuge of
the strong clasp. Bella greeted him with her eager, brilliant look, then
she rapidly glanced round the room, deserted save for themselves.

"Something perfectly fearful happened last week, Cousin Antony. Yes,
Gardiner, I will tell. Anyhow, it's all over now, thank the stars." (He