ls into various places
and various situations not so clean, rural, or innocent; made her
miserably unhappy in his absence, and still more miserably happy in his
presence; impelled her to lie, cheat, and bear false witness; forced her
to listen with mingled shame and admiration to narrow criticism of his
faults, from natures so palpably inferior to his own that her moral
sense was confused and shaken; gave her two distinct lives, but so
unreal and feverish that, with a recklessness equal to his own, she was
at last ready to merge them both into his. For the first time in his
life Mr. Hamlin found himself bored at the beginning of an affair,
actually hesitated, and suddenly disappeared from San Francisco.

He turned up a few days later at Aunt Chloe's door, with various
packages of presents and quite the air of a returning father of a
family, to the intense delight of that lady and to Sophy's proud
gratification. For he was lost in a profuse, boyish admiration of her
pretty studio, and in wholesome reverence for her art and her astounding
progress. They were also amused at his awe and evident alarm at the
portraits of two ladies, her latest sitters, that were still on
the easels, and, in consideration of his half-assumed, half-real
bashfulness, they turned their faces to the wall. Then his quick,
observant eye detected a photograph of himself on the mantel.

"What's that?" he asked suddenly.

Sophy and Aunt Chloe exchanged meaning glances. Sophy had, as a surprise
to Jack, just completed a handsome crayon portrait of himself from an
old photograph furnished by Hannibal, and the picture was at that moment
in the window of her former patron,--the photographer.

"Oh, dat! Miss Sophy jus' put it dar fo' de lady sitters to look at to
gib 'em a pleasant 'spresshion," said Aunt Chloe, chuckling.

Mr. Hamlin did not laugh, but quietly slipped the photograph into his
pocket. Yet, perhaps, it had not been recognized.

Then Sophy proposed to have luncheon in the studio; it was quite
"Bohemian" and fashionable, and many artists did it. But to her great
surprise Jack gravely objected, preferring the little parlor of Aunt
Chloe, the vine-fringed windows, and the heavy respectable furniture.
He thought it was profaning the studio, and then--anybody might come in.
This unusual circumspection amused them, and was believed to be part of
the boyish awe with which Jack regarded the models, the draperies, and
the studies on the walls. C