of Hardy had been an expensive undertaking for Katherine in
more ways than one. And naturally the more successful her efforts were
the more time they consumed. She had been so busy all summer finishing
off old work that she had not been able to take up anything fresh. She
had even been obliged to send away sitters, and they had betaken
themselves elsewhere. The "Witch" had not sold, though she had won a big
paragraph all to herself in "Modern Art." In her first enthusiasm over
Ted's success Katherine had encouraged him to give up his pot-boilers.
She had taken over some of his black-and-white work herself. And in the
midst of it all she was engaged on a portrait of Vincent. They were so
dependent on what they earned that these serious interruptions to work
threatened an inroad on their small capital. Now, they might any day
have applied to Mr. Pigott for a loan, and rejoiced that worthy
gentleman's heart; but such a step was the last indignity, not even to
be contemplated by Ted and Katherine. And even if their pride had not
stood in their way, that source of revenue seemed closed to them now.
Ted and his uncle had had an unfortunate encounter in the New Gallery.
The fact that he was indebted to Katherine for an invitation to the
private view had not prevented Mr. Pigott from speaking his mind freely
to her brother on the subject of the Witch. He said he could have
forgiven Ted for painting such a picture. He could have forgiven
Katherine too, if it had not been for her ability--that made her doubly
responsible. Ted tried to soothe him; he led him gently away from the
spot; he promised to do all he could to induce Katherine to cultivate
the grace of stupidity; but it was useless. The old gentleman stood to
his ground, and Ted left him there. He received a letter from him the
next morning:--

"DEAR EDWARD,--I parted from you yesterday more in sorrow than in
anger. I need not tell you how deeply shocked and grieved I was to
learn from a literary young friend that the subject of your sister's
picture is taken from the works of the atheist Shelley--a man whose
unprincipled life, I am told, is an all-sufficient commentary on his
opinions.

"Your cousin Nettie is earning a modest competence by poker-work,
and the painting of flowers, birds, and other innocent and beautiful
objects. Why cannot Katherine do the same?

"When she is willing to give up her present pursuits for some
be