n clay and in marble, the work of Sir Quentin
himself when a very young man. Only one of these efforts had an abiding
interest; it was a marble bust representing a girl, or young woman, of
remarkable beauty, the head proudly poised, the eyes disdainfully
direct, on the lips a smile which seemed to challenge the world's
opinion. Not a refined or nobly suggestive face, but stamped with
character, alive with vehement self-consciousness; a face to admire at
a distance, not without misgiving as one pictured the flesh and blood
original. Young Quentin had made a fine portrait. The model was his
mistress, and, soon after the bust was finished, she became his wife.

Naturally, Sir Spencer and Lady Ogram were not bidden to the wedding;
in fact, they knew nothing about it until a couple of years after,
when, on the birth to him of a son and heir, Quentin took his courage
in both hands and went down to Rivenoak to make the confession. He
avowed somewhat less than the truth, finding it quite task enough to
mitigate the circumstances of Mrs. Ogram's birth and breeding. The
exhibition of a portrait paved his way. This superbly handsome
creature, adorned as became her present and prospective station,
assuredly gave no shock at the first glance. By some freak of fate she
had for parents a plumber and a washerwoman--"poor but very honest
people," was Quentin's periphrase; their poverty of late considerably
relieved by the thoughtful son-in-law, and their honesty perhaps
fortified at the same time. Arabella (the beauty's baptismal name)
unfortunately had two brothers; sisters, most happily, none. The
brothers, however, were of a roaming disposition, and probably would
tend to a colonial life; Quentin had counselled it, with persuasions
which touched their sense of the fitting. So here was the case stated;
Sir Spencer and his lady had but to reflect upon it, with what private
conjectures might chance to enter their minds. Quentin was an only
child; he had provided already for the continuance of the house; being
of mild disposition, the baronet bowed his head to destiny, and, after
a moderate interval, Arabella crossed the threshold of Rivenoak.

Of course there were one or two friends of Quentin's who knew all the
facts of the case; these comrades he saw no more, having promised his
wife never again to acknowledge or hold any intercourse with them. With
his bachelor life had ended the artistic aspirations to which he had
been wont to dec