ve tried to explain that the
something within him which was really valuable could not brook bridle or
spur, that unless it were left to range where it would in untrammelled
liberty, it was worth very little to the world. He knew this. But a man
may deny his knowledge even to himself, deny it persistently through
long periods of time. And there was the weakness in Claude which
instinctively wished to give to others what they expected of him, or
strongly desired from him. On that evening in the studio Charmian's
definiteness gained a point for her. She was encouraged by this fact to
become more definite.

They were in Kensington by ten o'clock that night. Charmian was in high
spirits. A strong hope was dawning in her. Already she felt almost like
a collaborator with Claude.

"Don't let us go to bed!" she exclaimed. "Let us dress and go to
Adelaide Shiffney's."

"Very well," replied Claude. "By the way, what were you going to tell me
about her?"

"Oh, nothing!" she said.

And they went up to dress.

There was a crowd in Grosvenor Square. A good many people were still
abroad, but there were enough in London to fill Mrs. Shiffney's
drawing-rooms. And notorieties, beauties, and those mysterious nobodies
who "go everywhere" until they almost succeed in becoming somebodies,
were to be seen on every side. Charmian perceived at once that this was
one of Adelaide's non-exclusive parties. Mrs. Shiffney seldom
entertained on a very large scale.

"One bore, or one frump, can ruin a party," was a favorite saying of
hers. But even she, now and then, condescended to "clear people off."
Charmian realized that Adelaide was making a clearance to-night.

Since her marriage with Claude she had not been invited to No. 14
B--Mrs. Shiffney's number in the Square--before.

As she came in to the first drawing-room and looked quickly round she
thought:

"She is clearing off me and Claude."

And for a moment she wished they had not come. Her old horror of being
numbered with the great crowd of the undistinguished came upon her once
more. Then she thought of the conversation in the studio, and she
hardened herself in resolve.

"He shall be famous. I will make him famous, whether he wishes it, cares
for it, or not."

Mrs. Shiffney was not standing close to the first door to "receive"
solemnly. She could not "be bothered" to do that. The Heaths presently
came upon her, looking very large and Roman, in the middle of the second
drawin