But it is always difficult to tell to what an action may lead; and most of all is it hard to foresee the consequences which will follow from the violation of principle. Perhaps the air of secrecy with which Ninitta found it necessary to invest her coming, had an intoxicating effect upon the artist; perhaps it was simply that his persistent egotism moved him to test his power. Men often feel the keenest curiosity in regard to the extent of their ability to commit crimes into which they have yet not the remotest intention of being betrayed; and especially is this true in their relations to women. Men of a certain vanity are always eager to discover how great an influence for evil they could exercise over women, even when they have not the nerve or the wickedness to exert it. A man must be morally great to be above finding pleasure in the belief that he could be a Don Juan if he chose; and moral grandeur was not for Arthur Fenton. From whatever cause, the fact was, that as he painted this morning and reflected, with a complacency of which he was too keen an analyst not to know he should have been ashamed, how he had secured the model he desired despite her husband, the speculation came into his mind how far he could push his influence over Ninitta. At first a mere impersonal idea, the thought was instantly, by his habit of mental definiteness, realized so clearly that his cheek flushed, partly, it is to be said to his credit, with genuine shame. He looked at the beautiful model, and turned away his eyes. Then, hardly conscious of what he was doing, he laid down his palette, and took a step forward. At that instant the studio bell rang sharply. He started with so terrible a sense of being discovered in a crime, that his jaw trembled and his knees almost failed under him. Then instantly he recovered his self-possession, although his heart was beating painfully, and looked up at the clock. "Heavens!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea how late it was! It is that beastly Irons for his last sitting. I'd forgotten all about him." Ninitta rose from her position and hurried toward the screen behind which she dressed. "Don't let him in," she said. "He knows me." The bell rang again, as they stood looking at each other. "I will try to send him off," Arthur said. "Dress as quickly as you can." She retreated behind the screen while he went to the door and unlocked it. Instantly Irons stepped inside. "You must excuse me," the artist said. "I'll be ready for you in fifteen minutes. I have a model here, and got to painting so busily that I forgot the time. Come back in a quarter of an hour." "Oh, I don't mind," Irons said, advancing into the studio. "I'll look round until you are ready." "But I never admit sitters when I have a model," Fenton protested, standing before him. "I shall have to ask you to go." The other stopped and looked at the artist with suspicion in his eyes. "What a fuss you make," he commented coarsely. "No intrigue, I suppose?"