ompressed his lips. He began to hate his own talent.

"I think the best thing to do," he said, "would be for me to look for a
studio somewhere. I could easily find one, put a piano and a few chairs
in, and go there every day to work. Lots of men do that sort of thing.
It's like going to an office."

"Capital!" she said. "Then you'll be quite isolated, and you'll get on
ever so fast. Won't you?"

"I think probably I could work."

"And you will. Before we married you worked so hard. I want"--she got
up, came to him, and put her hand in his--"I want to feel that marriage
has helped you, not hindered you, in your career. I want to feel that I
urge you on, don't hold you back."

Claude longed to tell her to leave him alone. But he thought of coming
isolation in the studio, and refrained. Bending down, he kissed her.

"It will be all right," he said, "when I've got a place where I can be
quite alone for some hours each day."

CHAPTER XVI

With an energy that was almost feverish, Charmian threw herself into the
search for a studio. The little room had been a failure, through no
fault of hers. She must make a success of the studio. She and Claude set
forth together, and soon bent their steps toward Chelsea. There were
studios to be had in Kensington, of course. But Claude happened to
mention Chelsea, and at once Charmian took up the idea. The right
atmosphere--that was the object of this new quest, the end and aim of
their wanderings. If it were to be found in Chelsea, then in Chelsea
Claude must make his daily habitation. Charmian seconded the Chelsea
proposition with an enthusiasm that was almost a little anxious. Chelsea
was so picturesque, so near the river, that somber and wonderful heart
of London. Such interesting and famous people lived in Chelsea now, and
had lived there in the past. She wondered they had not decided to live
in Chelsea instead of in Kensington. But Claude was right, unerring in
his judgment. Of course the studio must be in Chelsea.

One was found not far from Glebe Place, in a large red building with an
arched entrance, handsome steps, and several artistic-looking windows,
with leaded panes and soda-water bottle grass. It was on the ground
floor, but it was quiet, large but not enormous, and well-planned. It
contained however, one unnecessary, though not unattractive, feature. At
one end, on the left of the door, there was a platform reached by a
flight of steps, and screened off with