world he
dreaded nothing so much, at this time, as a look of displeasure in a
girl's face.

He had left off the threadbare clothes in which he usually went begging,
and had attired himself in clean linen and immaculate gray broadcloth.
His face was exquisitely shaved; his nails trimmed and clean. And there
hung about him a faint odor of violets. In short, the male of the
species had begun to change his plumage, as is customary in the spring
of the year.

His mouth full of apology, he hurried up the stairs to the studio, only
to find that Barbara herself had not yet arrived. Upon the seat of the
chair in which he always posed, the legless man perceived an envelope
addressed to himself. This contained a short note:

DEAR MR. BLIZZARD:

I can't be at the studio till eleven. Please find somewhere
about you the kindness to wait, or at least to come again at
that time. You will greatly oblige,

Yours sincerely,

BARBARA FERRIS.

Blizzard read his note three times; it was very friendly. The "Yours
sincerely" touched his imagination. Especially the "Yours."

"Yours," he said, "mine," and with a sudden idiocy of passion he crushed
the note to his lips. And then, as if with remorse at having been rough
with a helpless thing, he smoothed out the crumpled sheet, and placed
it, together with its envelope, in that pocket which was nearest to his
heart. Then he seated himself on the edge of the model's platform, laid
his crutches aside, closed his eyes, and for perhaps five minutes slept,
motionless as a statue, except that now and then his ears twitched. At
the end of five minutes, he waked, greatly refreshed, and ready, if the
need should arise, to sit up the whole of the following night.

There was a sound of a man's steps mounting the stairs. And then a brisk
knocking on the studio door.

"Come in," said Blizzard.

Dr. Ferris entered, hesitated, and then closed the door behind him.

"You'll pardon me," said Blizzard coolly, "if I don't get up?"

"Yes--yes," said Dr. Ferris, and in his handsome eyes was a look of
pain and pity.

"It isn't easy for me to get up," Blizzard continued in the same cool,
emotionless voice, "you can see for yourself. I can't spring to my
feet--like other men. Do you know who I am?"

"Yes," said Dr. Ferris, "I'm afraid I do. But they told me the name of
the man who has been posing for Miss Ferris was Blizzard. Your name--"

"My name," said Blizzard, "is f