Her lack of judgment vexed him, for he knew the value of his work, and every day his fellow-painters trooped in to see it, and were loud in their praises. It would certainly be the _clou_ of any exhibition in which it might be placed. During one sitting Cora ventured to remark that she thought it a pity he did not intend to make the portrait more complete, and suggested the addition of various accessories which in her opinion would very much improve it. "It's by far the most complete thing I have ever done," he said. "I sha'n't touch it again," and he flung down his brushes in a fit of temper. She looked at him contemptuously, and putting on her hat, left the studio without another word; and for several weeks he did not see her again. Then he met her in the street, and begged her to come and pose for a head in his big picture, which he had taken up once more. His apologies were so abject that she consented, but she ceased to be punctual, and he never could feel quite sure that she would keep her appointments. Sometimes he would wait a whole afternoon in vain, and one day when she failed to appear at the promised hour he shut up his office and strolled down to the Seine. There he caught sight of her with a gay party who were about to embark on one of the little steamers that ply up and down the river. He shook his fist at her from the quay where he stood, and watched her and her party step into the boat from the pier. "She thinks little enough of the Lynxville Prize Fund when she wants an outing," he said to himself, scornfully. After fretting a little over his wasted afternoon, he forgot all about her, and set to work with other models. Then he left Paris for the summer. * * * * * A few hours after his return, early in the fall, there came a knock at his door. He had been admiring Cora's portrait, which to his fresh eye looked exceptionally good. Miss Snell, with eyes red and tearful, stood on his door-mat when he answered the tap. "Poor dear Cora," she said, had received a notice from the Lynxville committee that they did not consider her work sufficiently promising to continue the fund another year. "She will have to go home," sobbed Miss Snell, but said: "I am forced to admit that Cora has wasted a good deal of time this summer. She is so young, and needs a little distraction, now and then," and she appealed to the Painter for confirmation of this undoubted fact. He was absent-minded, but assented to all she said. In his heart he thought it a fortunate thing that the prize fund should be withdrawn. One female art student the less: he grew pleased with the idea. Cora had ceased to interest him as an individual, and he considered her only as one of an obnoxious class. "I thought you ought to be the first to know about it," said Miss Snell, confidentially, "because you might have some plan for keeping her over here." Miss Snell looked unutterable things that she did not dare to put into words.