The next evening but one found him ready for the call, but very nervous. He felt that he was taking a step into the world in which he might not be fit to hold a place; a world which would stare curiously at him as a gifted plebeian, and shut its doors upon him when the novelty had died. He dressed himself laboriously for the event. It was to be his introduction into select society, and he must not let that be the occasion for the faintest twinkle of mirth in the eyes of those to the manner born. At the Athletic Club he met Converse, who looked him over admiringly. If Converse had purposed exhibiting him to Miss Wood as a matter of entertainment for one night, the plan was not feasible. Instead of the careless artist or the unsophisticated youth, there appeared a straight, strong figure, a clean-cut face, keen and handsome. Indeed, Converse found himself envying Jud's dignity of manner. He did not know that the apathy of the person who rode beside him was the composure of extreme dread. Almost before Jud was aware of it, he was inside the Wood drawing-room, awaiting the appearance of its mistress. Through the maze he could barely remember passing an august personage who opened the doors to them and who said that Miss Wood was expecting Mr. Converse. Then he found himself sitting in a gorgeous apartment, blankly listening to the undertones of his friend, and responding with mechanical calmness, so that Converse marveled again at his conventional bearing. That young man was delighted with the surprise he had in store for the girl he loved. She came into the room suddenly and unexpectedly, and the two men arose--one with a laugh, the other with serious, questioning eyes. Miss Wood gave Converse her hand and turned to Jud with the smile which precedes an introduction. He detected the instantaneous gleam of inquiry, strengthened presently to perplexity and wonder. "Let me present----" began Converse, but she restrained him quickly. There was now an intentness in her gaze that brought the blood to Jud's face. "I know your face--don't speak, Douglass. Will you let me guess--let me think? Pardon my extraordinary behavior, but I am so sure I know you. I have seen you often, very often, I know. You are--oh, dear, how embarrassing! Yes, yes, I know now!" Her eyes fairly danced with the joy of discovery and she impulsively came to him with hand outstretched. "You are the artist--the boy who drew the picture!" "Yes, you have guessed," said Jud. "I knew your face. I am so glad to see you. And you are living out my prophecy, too. Where is the country boy now? What did I tell you?" She stood before him, her eyes looking squarely up into his face, bright with smiles. "I am trying to merit the recommendation you gave me, but I am afraid I'll fail," said he.