The next time he met Peter, he said, "I am really immensely indebted to you, old fellow. My uncle has come down handsome, and if the monkey now would be conv----" "By Gad, yes!" said Peter. He took it in crisp notes, and carefully pocketed them. "And is Miss Dora kind?" he asked. "She's an angel." "And you are generally prosperous?" "Thanks to you, my dear old friend." "Then," said Peter, producing a piece of paper from his pocket, "you might persuade your publishers to withdraw this beastly thing." It was a writ, and it claimed an injunction to restrain Peter from claiming the authorship of "To Lalage." "Then you've been publicly claiming it?" "I had to keep up the illusion, Adrian. Do me justice." "But," said Adrian, "how, Peter--how does it happen that the writ is dated the day _before_ we went to Clapham?" He paused. Peter grinned uneasily. A light broke in on Adrian. "Why," he exclaimed, "you're the villain who----" "Exactly. Wonderfully provident of me, wasn't it? What, you're not going?" "Never let me see your face again," said Adrian. "I have done with you." He rushed out. Peter whistled gently, and said to himself, "Not a bad deal! He must stop the action, or the old man will twig." Then he whistled again, and added, "Glad I got it in notes. He'd have stopped a check." A third time he whistled, and chuckled and said, "Now, I wonder if old Adrian'll make five hundred and fifty out of it! Not a bad deal, Peter, my boy!" MIDDLETON'S MODEL. Middleton was doing very well; everybody admitted that--some patronizingly, others enviously. And yet Middleton aimed high. He eschewed pot-boilers, and devoted himself to important subject pictures, often of an allegorical description. Nevertheless, his works sold, and that so well that Middleton thought himself justified in taking a wife. Here, again, good fortune attended him. Miss Angela Dove was fair to see, possessed of a nice little income, and, finally, a lady of taste, for she accepted Middleton's addresses. Decidedly a lucky fellow all round was Middleton. But, in spite of all his luck, his face was clouded with care as he sat in his studio one summer evening. Three months before he had been the recipient of a most flattering commission from that wealthy and esteemed connoisseur the Earl of Moneyton. The earl desired two panels for his hall. "I want," he wrote, "two full-length female figures--the one representing Heavenly Love, the other Earthly Love. Not a very new subject, you will say; but I have a fancy for it, and I can rely on your talent to impart freshness even to a well-worn theme."