for her satisfaction. Some made her
jealous, they were so good. She looked at them a long time trying to
find fault with them. Then suddenly she had a shock that made her heart
beat. There hung Paul's picture! She knew it as if it were printed on
her heart.

"Name--Paul Morel--First Prize."

It looked so strange, there in public, on the walls of the Castle
gallery, where in her lifetime she had seen so many pictures. And she
glanced round to see if anyone had noticed her again in front of the
same sketch.

But she felt a proud woman. When she met well-dressed ladies going home
to the Park, she thought to herself:

"Yes, you look very well--but I wonder if YOUR son has two first prizes
in the Castle."

And she walked on, as proud a little woman as any in Nottingham. And
Paul felt he had done something for her, if only a trifle. All his work
was hers.

One day, as he was going up Castle Gate, he met Miriam. He had seen her
on the Sunday, and had not expected to meet her in town. She was walking
with a rather striking woman, blonde, with a sullen expression, and a
defiant carriage. It was strange how Miriam, in her bowed, meditative
bearing, looked dwarfed beside this woman with the handsome shoulders.
Miriam watched Paul searchingly. His gaze was on the stranger, who
ignored him. The girl saw his masculine spirit rear its head.

"Hello!" he said, "you didn't tell me you were coming to town."

"No," replied Miriam, half apologetically. "I drove in to Cattle Market
with father."

He looked at her companion.

"I've told you about Mrs. Dawes," said Miriam huskily; she was nervous.
"Clara, do you know Paul?"

"I think I've seen him before," replied Mrs. Dawes indifferently, as
she shook hands with him. She had scornful grey eyes, a skin like white
honey, and a full mouth, with a slightly lifted upper lip that did not
know whether it was raised in scorn of all men or out of eagerness to be
kissed, but which believed the former. She carried her head back, as if
she had drawn away in contempt, perhaps from men also. She wore a large,
dowdy hat of black beaver, and a sort of slightly affected simple dress
that made her look rather sack-like. She was evidently poor, and had not
much taste. Miriam usually looked nice.

"Where have you seen me?" Paul asked of the woman.

She looked at him as if she would not trouble to answer. Then:

"Walking with Louie Travers," she said.

Louie was one of the "Spiral" girls.