e effect was a peculiarly deep, rich tone and Judy declared that she
liked it.

"It looks like the shadows in some of Monet's landscapes, dark, but
clear, with light all through them. Some day I am going to make a press
just like this one if I have to clean my palette a hundred times a day
to get scrapings."

The apartment was on the ground floor and one entered across a very
pretty paved court which had green tubs of evergreens here and there
along the wall. The indoor studio balcony, where Judy and Molly were to
sleep, had a long casement that opened on a tiny iron balcony which
overhung the court. There were four similar balconies belonging to the
neighboring studios and all had porch boxes filled with ivy or
chrysanthemums, making a wonderful effect of color.

Judy was Judy-like, entranced. She stepped upon the balcony and holding
out her arms to the tubbed spruce trees, exclaimed in a melodramatic
voice:

"'O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name:
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.'"

Suddenly what should she see, from the open door of the opposite studio,
but the faun-like face of Pierce Kinsella, grinning delightedly at the
unexpected encounter. He proved himself equal to the occasion and said
in a low and feeling voice:

"'Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?'"

And Judy came back with:

"'How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.'"

And Pierce answered:

"'With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls;
For stony limits cannot hold love out,
And what love can do that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.'"

By this time Mr. Kinsella had come out into the court and Molly, hearing
the spouting of so much poetry, joined Judy on the balcony to see what
was going on. She and Mr. Kinsella applauded loudly until the windows of
the two other balconies opened, and from one the head of a long-haired
man and from the other that of a short-haired woman were poked out.

"Poetry aside, Mr. Kinsella, what are you and Pierce doing here in the
Rue Brea?" called Judy.

"We are looking at a studio that is for rent. And what are you doing
here, please?"

"Sitting under our own vine and fig tree, sir! At least, it