"But--nothing!" laughed Henry Bliss impulsively. "Here--sit down!" He
sat down himself on the boat's gunwale, and turned to his daughter.
"Myrna, we're going to talk business--are you going to stay?"

"Of course, I'm going to stay!" she declared merrily, perching herself
beside her father and smiling up at Jean, who still remained standing.
"It will take both of us to convince him. Jean, father wants to take
you to Paris."

"To Paris!"--the words came from Jean with a sort of startled jerk.
His eyes searched the two faces for an instant uncertainly, and then he
smiled incredulously. "Mademoiselle is pleased to have a little joke
with me--yes?" he said quietly.

It was Henry Bliss who answered.

"Indeed, she is not!" he asserted, with brisk emphasis. "That is
exactly what I have to propose, my boy. My daughter tells me she
cannot make you believe that the superb little statue you have made
amounts to anything more than a gouged-out piece of mud. I'm not so
much surprised that you have not sensed its actual worth, for I think
that almost invariably the really big men in art, the men of real
genius, are the last to appreciate themselves; but the astounding thing
is that you have seen nothing in it at all. As a matter of fact, I
can't believe it. It is impossible! It is simply that you have given
it no thought. Think a little about it, Jean. How did you come to
make it? How did you conceive it? Where did you get your model?"

"But I do not know," said Jean a little absently--something, the fire,
the enthusiasm, the earnestness in the other's voice was kindling a
strange response within him. "I do not know. I think it was the
bronze statue in the great square of the city."

"The--what?" demanded Henry Bliss quickly. "What city? I know them
all--and I do not recall anything that could have served as a model for
you."

"And you told me, Jean," Myrna added, wagging her finger at him in
pretty reproach, "that you had never been away from Bernay-sur-Mer."

Jean laughed uncomfortably, self-consciously.

"It is nothing!" he said. "You do not understand. It is foolish! The
statue and the square and the city are only in the dream that comes
sometimes."

"Ah--a dream!" ejaculated Henry Bliss, with a quick nod of his head.

"Oh, Jean!" Myrna clapped her hands delightedly. "Tell us about it."

"There is nothing to tell, mademoiselle," he replied, colouring. "It
is just a dream that comes sometimes