An Engagement of Convenience

hbourhood and would look in for a cup of tea. But, though it was distasteful to dwell on these unending demands on her earnings, he was anything but profligate

ever that he had not been able to pull himself together sooner: in these past pr

irect for them. He walked straight in through the large front door that stood perennially open, and followed the trail of muddy footmarks up the worn stone stairway. On the third landing he came to a stop, and pulled

o see you, dear." Her earnest face brig

of books, the escritoire, the few prints, and the little trinkets and photographs she valued, she had contrived to make a dainty little nes

journey," she said, a

ut just for one moment. I believe I was the only person in London that noticed it

am just back f

ten," he laughed. "How

e were a big, merry party, and everybody made a great fuss of your little si

was good

tainly not used to the sort of thing, and I really found it restful

f old people whom everybody else shuns like the plague." He sho

'm sadly afraid I'm a sham and a fraud. I'm not really a worker-in the same sense

e tea and gav

me?" he asked, as the uncomfor

they suppose you wish to be quit of them all. And so, no doubt, they feel it the proper thing not to appear to wish to discuss you wi

uperate from several points of view. I daresay a bit of luck will be coming my way presently, and I'm keen on getting back to Italy again. I've often planned

!" He did not surprise her quick fla

id at last. "You see I take more int

gh. After all, Hertf

eyes: he had almost the sensation of being restored to a sphere which it had been more painful to abandon than he had ever admitted. The minutes passed, bringing him a warm, happy sense of social comradeship with his sister. The little fire burned brightly, and the feeling of the well-o

u to come to, Mary," he broke in on he

breathed. Her eye

But abruptly, as with a courage and firmness long

up, darling? This art

gh such a suggestion had never before fallen from her lips. He took her

an easy question to ask. The answer is diffic

o impossible

n to? I am fitt

bour on the soil-or wor

in life. But, Mary-the confession of failure-you

ou are a failure. They talk about it openly. They spa

blow. "They despis

nched together, the cor

despis

istines misjudge me. They will yet regret it. I shall yet show them that I am not so self-deceived as they imagine. I am an artist-art w

present position seems to me a hopeless one to start from. You have no means behind you now, so what is there before you save to go on in the same miserable way as you have lived the last year or t

athy!" he exclaimed. He sta

the man who had failed would never face cle

that," she pleaded. "Don't you see I want to be a real friend

or the big accomplishment, but now I offer my labour in the market. Pretty designs, prettily coloured-Cupids and pear

ly. "Better to give it up alto

have stood by me so long that I can't be

. I have been against you all this long, unhappy time. To-day I am your friend for the first time. Listen, darling. When

sure you will be the last to think I have ever considered the few pounds I have been able to put aside for you-my heart's best affecti

down; he was to

elp to continue this unhappy state of affairs. Sell off your studio, try yo

I am an artist. Art is my life. Outside that there is nothing fo

Perhaps you will

ing and stumbling on the bare stone. He was conscious that Mary was standing in the doorway a moment, but he did not see the convulsive working of he