So now she was tripping lightly along and, turning the twist by the great chestnut tree, her heart gave a sudden flop, for just ahead she saw her quarry. He was propped against the fence, using his knees for an easel, while he made a rapid water-color sketch. He was good at those little impressions of an artistic bit, that nearly always show forth in youth a great artist struggling to grow. Emily started, for she was very close to him before she saw him, and her rampant thoughts led her to blush, apologize, and stammer precisely as she might have done, had her sex never advanced at all but merely remained the dominant note that they have always been. "Why, Mr. Rath," and then she paused. Lorenzo--who wanted to finish his sketch--nodded pleasantly without looking up. "Grand day for walking," he said, as a supremely polite hint, and continued to work rapidly. Emily went close beside him and looked downward upon the canvas. "How pretty! I wish I knew more about pictures. What is that brown hill? You can't see a hill from here." "That's a cow," said Lorenzo, painting very fast indeed, "but don't ask me to explain things, for I can't work and talk at the same time." Emily sank down beside him with a pleasant sense of proprietorship now that she could get him by will power alone. "I've just come from Mrs. Ralston's. They're in such distress over old Mrs. Croft." "Is she worse?" The artist forgot to paint all of a sudden, and turned quickly towards her. "Oh, no,--she was asleep when I left. Jane didn't seem a bit troubled, but Mrs. Ralston is almost wild over not knowing what to say to her sister when she comes back and finds that awful old woman there. It's a terrible situation. Everybody knows that young Mrs. Croft has run away. She just hated to stay and now she's gone. Isn't it awful?" "Oh, I don't know," said Lorenzo, suddenly regaining his deep interest in work, "I have a distinct feeling that Miss Grey will bring things out all right for most people always. It's her way." "Yes, she's a dear girl," said Emily, and paused to have time to consider things a little while, feeling that the conversation should be continued by the man. The man didn't continue the conversation, however, merely wielding his brush and looking completely absorbed. Then she remembered her mission. "Mr. Rath, do you believe in frankness always?" "I wish that I did." "But don't you?" "Civilization wouldn't stand for it." "Perhaps not every one could bear it, but some could. I could, I'm sure." "Are you so sure?" "Yes, I am sure. I was talking with Jane alone just at the gate before I left, and she believes that frankness is best always." "It's easiest, certainly." Lorenzo raised his eyebrows a little impatiently, but she paid no attention. "Do you think so?" "Why, of course. When one wants to be let alone and blurts out, 'Let me alone,' why, one gets let alone."