Kate was wondering what Mrs. Hayden did every day with her leisure. She should think she would be tired always going to parties and lunches and operas, or receiving calls. "But then, I am thankful to know her," she concluded, casting a last glance at the stately mansion before turning the corner. "After all, life might be worse for me, and I can be a happy nobody if not a famous somebody," she said to herself, as she ran upstairs, after stopping at the baker's for a loaf of bread and a pot of jam. "Well, Gracious, what noble message have you given to the world through your work to-day?" she cried, a moment later, gaily peering into the studio through the _portieres_ that separated their parlor from the work room. "Is that you, Kate? Well, I've been trying the whole afternoon to make this Hebe look like a modern Hypatia, but----" "In other words," interrupted Kate, "you would change innocence into intellect. Now, look here, Grace, just leave this dainty girl alone. She would never do to serve the gods if you gave her the aspect and bearing of a goddess. Let her alone, or the world would not recognize her as a representative woman," laughed Kate, inspecting the picture with critical eyes. "Kate, stop laughing, and tell me truly if you think it would not do to give her a little more independence." "You know it's the worst thing in the world to give a woman even an inkling that such a thing exists," said the mischievous Kate, with a total abandonment to consequences as she gave the artist an impetuous hug. "Well, let us have tea, and we'll discuss the subject later," said Grace, somewhat mollified. "I am afraid, Gracious, you are something in the same mood I was when I started home to-night, but I concluded to let 'dull care' take care of itself, and be merry while the sun shines, which means as long as we have enough to pay our rent, and the prospect of a little more next month," continued Kate as she brought a tiny oil stove from the depths of a closet and proceeded to "put the kettle on." "I have been so full of thoughts of the nineteenth century that I found it hard to go back to the Pagan ages, but here this picture is ordered, and I must finish it by next week, so I guess this one will have to go without my message," said Grace, a little gloomily, for above all things she loved to put her own individuality into her pictures, which she generally did with rare success. "You mustn't have just one ideal of woman, or you'll lose the art of painting the sweetest phases of womanhood," replied the busy housemaid from the sepulchral closet. "Oh! if I have such excellent models as you make in that checked apron and dusting cap, I can do nobly." Grace laughed good humoredly as she cleaned her palette and set Hebe in one corner. "Now, my dear, isn't there something I can do to help arrange the feast?" as she went into the little back room they used for a kitchen.