e
nails in the wrong places. I was just making a note of that sunset. I
never saw such a blaze of different reds. It looks as if the Celestial
City were in flames, eh? If that were really the case I suppose it would
be the business of you theologians to put out the fire. Fancy me--an
ungodly artist--quietly sitting down to paint it!"

Mr. Brand had always credited Felix Young with a certain impudence, but
it appeared to him that on this occasion his impudence was so great as
to make a special explanation--or even an apology--necessary. And the
impression, it must be added, was sufficiently natural. Felix had at all
times a brilliant assurance of manner which was simply the vehicle of
his good spirits and his good will; but at present he had a special
design, and as he would have admitted that the design was audacious, so
he was conscious of having summoned all the arts of conversation to his
aid. But he was so far from desiring to offend his visitor that he was
rapidly asking himself what personal compliment he could pay the young
clergyman that would gratify him most. If he could think of it, he was
prepared to pay it down. "Have you been preaching one of your beautiful
sermons to-day?" he suddenly asked, laying down his palette. This was
not what Felix had been trying to think of, but it was a tolerable
stop-gap.

Mr. Brand frowned--as much as a man can frown who has very fair, soft
eyebrows, and, beneath them, very gentle, tranquil eyes. "No, I have not
preached any sermon to-day. Did you bring me over here for the purpose
of making that inquiry?"

Felix saw that he was irritated, and he regretted it immensely; but he
had no fear of not being, in the end, agreeable to Mr. Brand. He
looked at him, smiling and laying his hand on his arm. "No, no, not for
that--not for that. I wanted to ask you something; I wanted to tell
you something. I am sure it will interest you very much. Only--as it is
something rather private--we had better come into my little studio. I
have a western window; we can still see the sunset. Andiamo!" And he
gave a little pat to his companion's arm.

He led the way in; Mr. Brand stiffly and softly followed. The twilight
had thickened in the little studio; but the wall opposite the western
window was covered with a deep pink flush. There were a great many
sketches and half-finished canvasses suspended in this rosy glow, and
the corners of the room were vague and dusky. Felix begged Mr. Brand to