"Well, really, Mr. Ludolph," said one of the gentlemen, "you deal in wonders, mysteries, and all sorts of astonishing things yere. We have an unknown artist in Chicago deserving an ovation; you have in your employ a prince of critics, and if I mistake not he is the same who sang at Brown's some little time ago. Miss Brown told me that he was your porter." "Yes, I took him as a stranger out of work and knew nothing of him. But he proved to be an educated and accomplished man, who will doubtless be of great use to me in time. Of course I promoted him when I found him out." These last remarks were made for Mr. French's benefit rather than for any one's else. He intended that his rival should knowingly violate all courtesy if he sought to lure Dennis away. After admiring the paintings and other things recently received, the gentlemen bowed themselves out. On leaving the store Mr. Winthrop--feeling awkward in the presence of the disappointed girl--had pleaded business, and bidden her adieu with a warm grasp of the hand and many assurances that she had succeeded beyond his belief. "I know you mean kindly in what you say," said Christine, while not the slightest gleam lighted up her pale, sad face. "Good-by." She, too, was relieved, and wished to be alone. Miss Winthrop sought to comfort her friend as they walked homeward. "Christine, you look really ill. I don't see why you take this matter so to heart. You have achieved a success that would turn any head but yours. I could not believe it possible had I not seen it. Your ambition and ideal are so lofty that you will always make yourself miserable by aiming at the impossible. As Mr. Fleet said, I do not believe there is another in the city who could have done so well, and if you can do that now, what may you not accomplish by a few years more of work?" "That's the terrible part of it," said Christine, with a long sigh. "Susie, I have attained my growth. I can never be a real artist and no one living can ever know the bitterness of my disappointment. I do not believe in the immortality that you do, and this was my only chance to live beyond the brief hour of my life. If I could only have won for myself a place among the great names that the world will ever honor, I might with more content let the candle of my existence flicker out when it must. But I have learned to-day what I have often feared--that Christine Ludolph must soon end in a forgotten handful of dust." "Oh, Christine, if you could only believe!" "I cannot. I tried in my last sickness, but vainly. I am more convinced than ever of the correctness of my father's views." Miss Winthrop sighed deeply. "Why are you so despondent?" she at last asked.