The Roll-Call

sk was far advanced. Mounting the steps quickly Marguerite rang the bell. There

ot come home-his hat's not hanging up. He promised me certain that he would b

vely judging her father, as his equal, possibly even as somewhat his superior. And George admired the force of her individuali

ce opened he would lose her-he would have to go forth and seek his dinner and she would remain in the house; whereas, barred out of the ho

n ledging the portfolio against a step and fumbling in both waistco

d a very exciting sense of risk and of romance and of rapture

y acquiescent, and without the lea

e of the wet glistening of her eyes in the cathedral she had somehow become mystically his! He. permitted himself the suspicion: "Perhaps she guesses that I'm only pretending about the latchkey." The suspicion which made her an accessory

re in a grey suit and silk hat, and both arms filled wi

gham Smith, we're locked out till father comes." She completed the

tenant of the studio at the back of No. 8. He rais

he studio, then," h

don't you?" said Mar

defiance and mistrust, and the acquaintance had not progressed. Nor, by the way, had George's dreams been realized of entering deeply into the artistic life of Chelsea. Chelsea had been no more welcoming than

gh in the gable, which door communicated by a covered bridge with the second floor of No. 8, where the artists had bedrooms. The arrangement was a characteristic example of the manner in which building was added to building in London

omplex disorder of the studio. It was obviously very dirty-even in the lamplight the dust could be seen in drifts on the moveless folds of the curtains-it was a pigsty; but it was romantic with shadowed spaces, and gleams of copper and of the pale arms of the etching-press, and glimpses of pi

packages and setting a table. "Brawn, Miss Haim! And beer, Miss Haim! Tha

ought by Vienna. Mr. Buckingham Smith did not say that the etching had been bought by any particular gallery in Vienna. He said 'by Vienna,' giving the idea that all Vienna, every man, woman, and child in that distant and enlightened city where etchings were truly understood, had combined for the possession of a work by Mr.

he wore indescribable slippers. He said little, in an extremely quiet, weak voice. His eyes, however, were lively and attractive. He was old, probably at least thirty-five. Mr. Buckingham Smith made a marked contrast to him. Tall, with newish clothes, a powerful voice and decisive gestures, Mr. Buckingham

a glass with an up-and-down motion of the bo

d George decidedly.

've got to," he said. It was as if he had said: "I am generous. I love to be hospit

d joined in the toasting of

s chum, and then to George and Marguerite,

Prince, massed in a portfolio. He extolled them with his mouth half-full of brawn, or betwee

ly, and with the air of stating the obvious. And George thought that Mr. Prince was. The etchings were not signed '

ted. This single remark convinced him that she knew all about etching, where

ou can only get that peculiar

ancing subject, and he determined to lear

Smith.' George much admired them, though less than he admired the etchings. They were very striking and ingenious, in particular the portraits and the still-life su

any idea of them by this light-though," he added warningly, "it's t

e, and Mr. Princ

up to the Promenades to-n

t once. "The Glazo

ce uncertainly. "No. I rather

from Mr. Enwright positive opinions about th

en?" he

pologetically. "And I thought to-night--" Despite appearances, he was not indifferent after all

f conversation, and he moved towards the press. The reception given to the wonderful name of Glazounov

the blanketed steel bed slid smoothly under the glittering cylinder. Although George had often been in his stepfather's printing works he now felt for the first time the

am Smith, picking up a dusty print off

e, who had no idea what a mono

to do. You just use a match

eorge. "D'you know, it re

ting. Equally of course it was Mr. Enwright who had inducted him into the esoteric cult of Cézanne, and

ured Buck,

ou think o

utally reproving this conversational delinquency of George's. "Rule it out, young man!

and was angry with himself. Then he heard Mr. Prince saying calmly and easil

ouldn't come wit

ant Mr. Prince's astounding proposal. He felt that he simply could not endure them marching off together for the evening.

he said. "Father's su

uerite's portfolio of designs, and glancing round at her f

! No!... Mr. Cannon, please tak

Mr. Buckingham Smith rose

tones of Buckingham Smith, who had always to be convincing not only others but himself that he was a strong man whose views were unassailable, the eyes of Buckingham Smith like black holes in his handsome face, the stylish gestures and coarse petulance of Buckingham Smith, the shy assurance of little old Prince. He envied the pair. Their existence had a cloistral quality which appealed to something in him. They were continually in the studio, morning, afternoon, evening. They were independent. They had not to go forth to catch omnibuses and trains, to sit in offices, to utilize the services of clerks, to take orders, to 'Con

erite Haim, and new, intensified sensations th

had not

: "What a funny little man Mr. Prince i

cting Mr. Alfred Prince, "anyhow, I'm gla

parent simplicity. "I ado

"We shan't be very late, and w

porch, silent, reflective. She would never go. For sundry p

meditated decision. He could scarcely believe

portfolio under t