nd wood the story of sanctuary that has meant so
much to the ages.

He did not foresee that. He did not think of it as a possibility. He
was thinking only of the great discovery he had made: that a man may
find sanctuary, as he may give worship, in a task well loved and well
done. Life was a pretty good thing after all, since it could not take
from him eyes to perceive or heart to rejoice in the beauty he could
create, though none else cared to see. The days of his whimpering,
even to himself, were ended.

"I should have been doing this all along."

Nor did he notice that the music had ceased. He did not know even that
he was no longer alone, until a voice broke in on his reverie.

"He doesn't look very hospitable, does he?"

"Maybe," said another, "he doesn't feel that way."

David jumped to his feet and peered over the easel at Jonathan and
Esther.

"But he does, indeed. Visitors," he announced, "are requested to stay
on this side of the door."

They stepped within. "Since you wouldn't come down," Jonathan
explained, "of course we had to come up. Though Miss Summers almost
lost her courage on the way. She said we were taking a liberty."

"But I didn't," she protested in some confusion. "I only said--"

"That you don't seem to care much for company," Jonathan completed her
sentence. "She was mistaken, I trust?"

"Woefully," smiled David. "And I've had company all evening. They
played and sang and helped me to work." He waved a hand toward the
easel.

"Do you think," Jonathan inquired of Esther, "we may take that as a
compliment?"

"I'm not quite sure," she answered.

"She means," chuckled Jonathan, who seemed to be enjoying himself
hugely, "she must see the work before she commits herself. Is it
allowed--?"

"Of course, if you care to," David said. "And you'll find these chairs
comfortable, I think. Over here, where you get the light." When they
had sat down, he turned the easel toward them. "Now, ladies and
gentlemen," he burlesqued, "if you will look upon my right--"

They looked. And their sudden surprised interest made his heart skip a
beat.

"Why, I--I didn't know--" Esther began, in the words he had once
stammered to her. She gave him a quick questioning glance, then looked
again at the sketch.

Jonathan had become very grave. "You have a gift for drawing."

"Only a knack," said David.

"A very pretty knack then. Is that a copy?"

"Just a sketch of an idea I've