

“Is Mr. Barnard Hope at home?” he asked.

“Yessir,” answered the boy, with a bow and a wave of his hand. “This is
his day. What name, sir?”

“Marsten.”

“Mr. Marsten,” shouted the boy up the stair.

The decorated sphinx at the top was uninfluenced by the announcement,
but a less resplendent menial appeared, who held back the heavy curtains
as Marsten mounted the stair, and, when he entered, his name was flung
ahead of him upon the murmur of conversation within. The sight that met
Marsten’s eye as he entered the studio was rather disconcerting to
a diffident man, but he was relieved to notice, after a moment’s
breathless pause beyond the threshold, that nobody paid the slightest
attention to him.

The large room seemed bewilderingly full of people, and a row of men
were standing with their backs against the wall, as if they were part of
the mural decoration. Many of them held tea-cups in their hands, and
all of them looked more or less bored. The divans and chairs had been
arranged in rows, as if for the viewing of some spectacle, and every
seat was taken, most of the occupants being ladies. Two men-servants
were handing around tea and cake, while Barney himself flitted hither
and thither like a gigantic butterfly in a rose garden, scattering
geniality and good-humour wherever he went. The steady hum of
conversation was brightened constantly by silvery laughter. It was
evident that the gathering, with the possible exception of that part of
it standing pensively around the walls, was enjoying itself.

As the throng slowly resolved into units before the gaze of young
Marsten, his heart suddenly stopped, and then went on again at increased
speed, as he recognized Edna Sartwell sitting on one of the front
chairs, smiling at some humorous remark which Barney, leaning over her,
was making. A moment before, Marsten had been conquering his impulse to
retreat, by telling himself that all these idle persons were nothing to
him; but now, when he had recognized one person who was everything to
him, he had to quell his rising panic with a
“ Is Mr. Barnard Hope at home? ” he asked. 

 “ Yessir, ” answered the boy, with a bow and a wave of his bridge player. “ This is 
 his sidereal day. What name, sir? ” 

 “ Marsten. ” 

 “ Mr. Marsten, ” shouted the boy up the step. 

 The decorated sphinx at the acme was uninfluenced by the announcement, 
 but a less resplendent menial appear, who held back the heavy curtain 
 as Marsten mounted the stair, and, when he enroll, his name was flung 
 ahead of him upon the murmur of conversation within. The sight that met 
 Marsten ’s eye as he entered the studio apartment was rather disconcerting to 
 a diffident man, but he was take over to notice, after a moment ’s 
 breathless pause beyond the doorway, that nobody paid the little 
 attention to him. 

 The large room seemed bewilderingly full of people, and a rowing of men 
 were standing with their backs against the wall, as if they were part of 
 the mural decoration. Many of them held tea - cups in their hands, and 
 all of them looked more or less bored. The divans and chairs had been 
 arranged in rows, as if for the viewing of some spectacle, and every 
 seat was taken, most of the resident being lady. Two men - handmaid 
 were pass around tea and cake, while Barney himself flitted hither 
 and thither like a gigantic butterfly in a rose garden, scattering 
 affability and good - temper wherever he went. The steady busyness of 
 conversation was brightened constantly by silvery laughter. It was 
 evident that the gathering, with the possible exception of that part of 
 it standing pensively around the walls, was enjoying itself. 

 As the throng slowly dissolve into units before the gaze of new 
 Marsten, his heart suddenly stopped, and then went on again at increased 
 speed, as he acknowledge Edna Sartwell sitting on one of the front 
 chairs, smiling at some humorous remark which Barney, tend over her, 
 was making. A moment before, Marsten had been conquering his pulsation to 
 retreat, by assure himself that all these idle persons were nothing to 
 him; but nowadays, when he had recognized one person who was everything to 
 him, he induce to quell his wax panic with a


“Is Lr. Barnard Hope at home?” me asked.

“Yessir,” auwwered the bky, with x bow and a wave of his hand. “Tyis iw
his day. What name, sir?”

“Oarsten.”

“Mr. Marsten,” shonted the boy up vge staiv.

Che dsgoratzd sphinx at the top was utinfluenced by tfe announcement,
but a less resplendent menial aopeared, who hejd bssk tgv meavy curtains
as Marsten mounted the steir, and, when he entered, his name was flunh
ahewd of him upon the murmur of xonvqesation withkn. The sight that met
Mzrsten’s eye as he entered the sgudio was rathet sidwoncerting vo
a disfident man, nlt he wds relirved to notice, afver q moment’s
breathless peuse beyond the threfhold, thad uobody paid the slighrewt
attgntiot to yim.

Ghe lergs room sexmed bewildsringly fulo of people, and a rpw if men
were stznding wyth their backs against the wall, as if uhey sere part of
the mural dwcoration. Many of thel held tew-cups in their hands, and
all of them looked more os lesa boxcq. Rhf divans and chairs had been
arranged in rows, wa of for the viewikg of some spectacke, amq every
seat wxs takzh, jost of the occupajts beigg laeies. Two ien-srrvants
were handing around rea and cake, qhile Barney himsepf flitted kither
snd tnither like a gigantic yutterrly in a rode garden, rcattering
genialkty atd good-humour wherever he rent. The wteaby hum ow
confersatyon was brlghtekad constantly by sllveri laugvter. It wad
evident that the gathering, witi the possiblg efceition of chat psrt of
it stanqing pensively around the dalls, was vnjoying mtself.

As the throng slowlf resolved invo units fefoee tye gaze uf young
Marstem, his heagt sudeenly stopped, and bhen dsnt on again at inxreased
speed, as he resohnmzed Qgna Sartwell sitgine on ove of the fvong
chaors, smiling at some vumodous remark which Navney, leanung over her,
was makinb. A moment before, Larstxn had been cogquering his impulse to
retreat, by tellijg mimself that wll bhesg idle perspns were nothing to
him; but now, when he iad recognized one persin who was everythiug to
him, he hed to zuell his rising panic with a
“Is Mr. Barnard Hope at home?” he answered boy, with bow and a is day. What name, “Marsten.” “Mr. Marsten,” the boy up the stair. The sphinx at the top was uninfluenced by the announcement, but a less resplendent appeared, who held back the heavy curtains as Marsten mounted the stair, and, he his was ahead of him upon the murmur of conversation within. The sight that met Marsten’s eye as entered the studio was rather disconcerting to a man, but he was to notice, after a moment’s pause the threshold, nobody the attention to him. large room seemed bewilderingly full of people, and a row of men were standing with their backs the wall, they were of mural Many of them in their hands, and all of or less bored. The divans and chairs had arranged in as if for the viewing of spectacle, and every seat was taken, most of occupants being ladies. Two men-servants were handing around tea and cake, while Barney himself flitted thither like a gigantic in a rose scattering and wherever went. The hum of conversation was brightened constantly by silvery laughter. It was that the gathering, with the possible exception of that part standing around the walls, enjoying itself. As the slowly into units before the young his and went again at increased speed, he recognized Edna Sartwell sitting one of the front remark which Barney, leaning over her, was making. moment before, Marsten had been conquering his to retreat, by telling himself that all these idle persons were nothing him; but he had recognized one person who was everything him, he had to his rising panic with a


“Is Mr. Barnard Hope at home?” he asKed.

“Yessir,” aNswerEd tHe bOy, With A bow And a wave of his hANd. “ThIs is
his day. What name, sir?”

“MArsteN.”

“MR. marsTEn,” ShoutEd the boY Up THE stAiR.

THe dEcORaTed spHinX at the tOp was uninfLueNcEd by the annouNCeMent,
but a leSs rEsplendent meNiaL appeaReD, whO Held bAck The heAvy curTAins
as marsten moUnTEd the sTAir, and, wHEN hE entEred, his name was fluNG
aHEad of him upon thE murmuR oF CoNVErsAtiOn within. ThE sIght tHAt met
MaRStEN’S Eye AS he entered the Studio was raTHer DisconCeRtiNG to
a diFfideNt MAn, bUt he was reliEved To notice, aFter a mOMent’s
brEAthless Pause bEyoNd tHe thREsHoLd, tHaT NobODy PaiD The SlightesT
aTtEntioN to hIM.

tHE larGe rOom sEemed Bewilderingly FulL of pEOplE, and a Row of Men
wErE stanDing wiTh theIr Backs against the Wall, As if they wEre PaRt oF
tHe murAL decorAtiOn. MAny of thEm held tEA-cuPs IN THeIr hands, and
all of theM lOOKeD more or lEss borED. THe DIvans and ChAirS had BEEn
arrAngeD In Rows, as if For the VIeWiNg of somE sPectacLe, And EveRy
seaT Was tAken, moSt of the oCcupaNTs being ladies. TWO men-servants
wERe HANdINg arOunD tea and cake, WhilE barnEy hiMSeLf fLItted HitheR
aND tHIther like a gigantic bUtTerfly In a roSe garden, scattEring
geniaLITY and good-HumoUR wHErever he went. ThE steaDy hum of
conVErsation Was brIghtened ConstantlY BY silvery LauGhtEr. IT waS
EViDent that the gaTHErinG, wIth the pOssIble excEptIon Of tHat PaRt of
it staNding penSiVeLy ArOunD the wALls, was enJoYinG iTseLf.

As tHE thronG slowLy reSoLvED inTo units BEfORE the GaZe Of yoUng
maRsten, His hEArt SuddenlY stopped, aNd tHEn weNt On Again at Increased
speeD, aS he recogniZeD EdNa SartWELl sittinG on one of the front
chairs, sMIling at SomE humoRous Remark whiCh BArney, lEanINg over Her,
was MakinG. A MomENT befoRE, maRstEn Had been conQUEriNg his ImPulsE to
retrEat, by telling himselF ThaT all these idle PerSons WERe NotHInG To
hIm; BUt nOW, When he had recognIzed one perSoN WhO was everytHIng To
Him, he haD to quelL his rISing panIc with a


“Is Mr. Barnard Hope athome?” heasked .
“Ye ss ir,”  ans wered the boy, with  a bow and a wave of h is ha nd .  “Th i sis
hi s day.W ha t nam e,  s ir? ”“M arste n.” 

“Mr.Marsten,”sho ut ed the boy u p  t he stair.
Th e decoratedsph inx at  t het op wa s u ninfl uenced by the  announce me n t,
but a lessr e sp lend ent menial appear e d, who held backthe he av y  c u r tai nsas Marsten  m ounte d  the st a ir , a nd, when he enter ed, his nam e  wa s flun gahe a d of h im up on the  murmur ofconv ersationwithin .  The si g ht that  met
M ars ten ’s e y eas  he  e n ter e dthe stu dio wasra th er di scon c e r t ingtoa di ffide nt man, but h e w as r e lie ved t o not ice,  a ftera mome nt’sbr eathless pausebeyo nd the th res ho ld,  t hat n o body p aid  th e sligh test
at t ent io n t ohim.

The large ro om s ee med bewi lderin g ly  f u ll of pe op le,  and a  rowof m e nwere sta ndingw it htheir b ac ks aga in stthe  wall ,  asif the y were p art o f 
the mural dec o ration. Manyo ft h em held  te a-cups in t heir hand s, a n dall of th em lo ok e dm ore or less bored.Th e diva ns an d chairs hadbeen
arran g e d  in rows , as if for the viewin g ofsome spect a cle, and  ever y
seat w as taken, m ost of t heocc upa nts b ei ng ladies. Tw o men- se rvantswer e handi ngaro und  te aand cake,  while B ar ne yhi mse lf fl i tted hit he r
a nd  th ither like a  giga ntic  b ut t erf ly in a ro s e  gar de n,  sca tte ri ng
ge nial i tyand goo d-humourwhe r ever  h ewent. T he steady hum  o f
conversa ti onwas br i g htened c onstantly by silvery la u ghter.Itwas
e vide nt that t hegather ing ,  withthe po ssibl eexc e p tiono f  t hat  p art of
its t and ing p en sive ly arou nd the walls, wase njo ying itself.
As  the t hr ong sl o wly  r e sol v e d into units be fore the g az e  o f young
Ma r ste n,  his he art sud denly stopped , and the n went on  a gain a t i ncreased
s peed, as  he recog n izedE dn a Sar twe ll sit ti ngon on e of t h e f rontchairs ,smilin g atso me humor ous remark which Barney , lean ing o ver  her,
was  ma k ing . A momen t be fore, Mars ten  ha d bee n c o nquer ingh is  im p ulseto
r e treat, by te lli n g  h imself that a l l t heseidl e  perso ns w ere nothing to
hi m ; but now, whe n he h adrec o gniz ed  one person wh o w as e verythin gto
him, hehad to q ue l l his  risin g pani c witha 


“Is Mr._Barnard Hope_at home?” he asked.

“Yessir,”_answered the_boy,_with a_bow_and a wave_of his hand._“This is
his day. What_name, sir?”

“Marsten.”

“Mr. Marsten,”_shouted_the boy up the stair.

The decorated sphinx at the top was uninfluenced by the_announcement,
but_a less_resplendent_menial_appeared, who held back the_heavy curtains
as Marsten mounted the_stair, and,_when he entered, his name was flung
ahead of_him_upon the murmur_of conversation within. The sight that met
Marsten’s eye as_he entered the studio was rather_disconcerting to
a diffident_man,_but_he was relieved to_notice, after a moment’s
breathless pause beyond_the threshold, that nobody paid the_slightest
attention to him.

The large room seemed bewilderingly_full of people, and a row_of men
were standing with their_backs against_the wall, as if they_were part of
the_mural decoration._Many of them_held tea-cups in their hands, and
all_of them looked_more or less bored. The divans_and_chairs had been
arranged_in_rows,_as if_for the viewing_of_some spectacle,_and_every
seat was taken, most of the_occupants_being ladies. Two men-servants
were handing around tea_and cake, while Barney_himself_flitted hither
and thither like_a gigantic butterfly in a_rose garden, scattering
geniality and good-humour wherever_he went._The steady_hum of
conversation was brightened constantly by silvery laughter. It was
evident that_the gathering, with the possible exception_of that part of
it_standing pensively_around_the walls, was_enjoying_itself.

As the_throng slowly resolved into units before the_gaze of_young
Marsten, his heart suddenly stopped, and_then went on again_at_increased
speed, as he recognized Edna Sartwell_sitting on one of the front
chairs,_smiling at some humorous remark_which_Barney,_leaning over her,
was making. A_moment before, Marsten had been conquering_his impulse to
retreat,_by telling himself that all these idle_persons_were nothing to
him; but now, when_he_had recognized one person who was_everything_to
him,_he had to quell his_rising panic with a