“Spinster,” he thought; “iron-bound sense of duty; starving for proper soil to grow in. What miracle was it that let her do these amazing things?” And aloud he said, “How did you happen to wait until now?” She looked as if she thought the question a little stupid. “I never had time, or a place to work in where I could do as I liked.” “You have ties, obligations?” She smiled without bitterness. “I have to make a living; and I have a mother with a weak heart, who can’t realize I’ve grown up.” “You know you have genius?” Her face became gay with a touch of impish humour. “I know. It’s God’s little joke with me.” Purcell chuckled grimly. “You’re not giving anything away, young lady.” He offered his hand. “I’m going to leave you with Ybarra and John. They’ll tell you what I want you to do. And I hope, for the sake of an old man who treasures beauty wherever he can find it, you will accept their advice.” Without another glance or word he walked briskly out. The instant the door closed on him, Ybarra seized her hands with an exuberant Latin gesture. “Congratulations, my dear young woman! I’ve never known old George Jean to go so far for native talent.” She looked past him appealingly at John Richmond, her face white. “What does he mean?” John Richmond detached Ybarra, and himself took her hands and looked into her eyes. “Judith Todd, it means the end of the long road; it means a fair chance at last. You know, don’t you, that when George Jean Purcell puts in an order for an artist’s work, he’s got a pretty canny idea that that artist has a future? Isn’t that so, Ybarra?” “It has meant just that several times in the past.” “Very well, that’s that,” said John Richmond. “Now you’re to finish up a certain number of those figures--yes, yes, we know you can’t afford to have them cast, but Mr. Purcell will attend to that. In return you will sell him six that he chooses. I believe he gave you a check, Ybarra? Perhaps if she sees that she’ll believe us.” But though they put in her hands the slip of pale-green paper with its figure which exceeded her earnings for a year in the novelty shop, she did not look at it. Instead, her burning gaze clung desperately to John Richmond’s face. “You’re not fooling, are you? You wouldn’t be so cruel as that, would you?” Richmond’s eyes blurred. He made a signal to Ybarra, and the dealer slipped out of the room, murmuring something about an engagement. “Remember,” he said as he went out, “one of my galleries will be ready for your exhibition in the autumn.”