He stopped to look at the girl, whom he had almost forgotten. Her face startled him with its eagerness. Her eyes were shining and he found himself commenting, subconsciously: "Why, she isn't so plain." "Yes, please go on," she begged. "Well, granted that you have learned something of the motives, the passions, the sorrows that rack us humans, then you must also have your medium in control. Have you ever thought about words, how wonderful they are, how precious?" She shook her head. "Most people fail to. We think of the hackneyed old phrases we use in the mechanics of living, but words are like little creatures that march and fight and sing. They are like extra hands, and brains. Think of the power of them! All the passions wait on them; they bring despair, hope, courage, love; they are the golden exchange granted to man. Until you get this sense of the choiceness, the fragility, the power of words, you are not ready to transcribe your thoughts." "But how can I learn about words?" "Read the best books, get the feel of them. Study style, add words to your possession as a miser adds coins. Have you ever studied composition?" "A little in High School." "Frankly, I doubt if you can ever write. I see no gleam of a gift in these things you have brought me. They are sentimental and silly. But if you should want to learn something about this great art----" "Oh, I do," said Jane earnestly. "Very well, I will give you a list of books to begin with. You must get a position so that you can support yourself, then study when you can. Write all the time; get facility with words, then tear it up. Don't try to sell things. Begin to watch people; get abreast of events. Read the papers and the magazines in the library. Read Shakespeare, Fielding, Dickens, Thackeray, Bunyan, Meredith, Barrie, and Galsworthy. You might even try Shaw." "Oh, I will!" cried Jane. He laughed. "I don't often inflict an hour's lecture upon unprotected young women, Miss Judd." "I can't tell you how grateful I am. This is just what I needed." "You get to work. When you are absolutely confident that you have got something good, come and see me again." "Thank you, I will." She went out in a daze. This talk was to change the whole course of her life, and she knew it. It was characteristic of her that she began at once. She answered an advertisement in the paper, inserted by a man named Jerome Paxton, who wanted a reliable woman to mend his clothes and do light work about the studio. She applied and he engaged her. That was six years ago. From that small beginning she had worked up a clientele among the artists of the district, which kept her busy every day. She mended their clothes, cleaned their studios, cooked a meal if necessary, became, in short, an institution in the colony. As Jerry Paxton said; "Jane Judd can mend anything from a leak in a pipe to a broken heart."