school, where she
had worked hard and no one had been sufficiently ill-natured or had
cared enough for her to tell her to give it up, and then the misguided
judgment which had led her to take a studio for herself. He had
tactfully said nothing when he had looked over the sketches; but he
knew that they were bad, and his sharp eyes had not missed the traces
of tears on her face; so he easily made two, by the old process of
putting one and one together, and formed a pretty accurate guess as to
what had happened.

Elizabeth was all smiles when she joined him, and they went down the
long stairs together. The dinner was a delight to her; the well-cooked
and daintily served food, the pretty table appointments, and the music
from the balcony, all seemed like a breath from the past--from the
time before she became absorbed in what she called her "life work."

"It is so long since I have been in such a delightful place as this,
with the prospect of such a dinner, that you must not expect me to
talk," she said, when he had given the order, after due consultation
with her over the menu. "But I am a good listener, and you can tell me
about what you have been doing."

"It is neither a very long nor a very exciting narration," he replied,
laughing. "You gave me such a very decided answer, three years ago,
that I haven't had the courage to look at a woman since, and if you
can't find a woman in three years of a man's life, it is safe to say
that it has been uneventful." She looked at him apprehensively, for
there was one topic which she had determined to avoid, and here he was
rushing into it before the oysters were served.

"No, no. It isn't that which I wish to know about," she said, hastily.
"But tell me what you have been doing; what you are doing now."

"This evening I am dining with some one whom I have thought of every
day since I saw her last," he answered, gallantly. "During the day I
spend most of my time in a disagreeable office, working for money
which I do not need, because that seems to be the custom of American
men. That has been my life for half of each of these three years; the
alternate six months I have spent in Florence with my mother."

"I envy you the Florentine portion of the year," she said, looking at
him a little wistfully. "Some day, when my ship comes in, I hope to
spend a long time there."

"I go back in two months," he said, eagerly. "My mother would be
delighted to see you, if you would come ove