'The master had an idle fit on him this morning, signor,' said Gaetano; 'but recently he has been wonderfully attentive to his work. Will not the signor walk in and see what progress has been made with the Aspasie?' 'Well,' said Spiridion, 'I have nothing to do just now, and I am a little tired with my walk. I may just as well rest myself for a few minutes. Mr. Eardley did not say at what time he would return, did he, Gaetano?' 'No, signor,' replied the valet; 'it is seldom that the master gives any hint of his movements; he likes to come and go without the knowledge of his people.' 'He is quite right,' muttered Spiridion to himself as he entered the house, and, followed by the servant, made his way to the studio, which was in the rear of the premises. A splendid room, the walls hung with deep maroon-coloured cloth; on one side a huge oaken press, with its open doors showing an _omnium gatherum_ of all kinds of costumes, some of which had overflowed their receptacle, and were lying on the floor; on the other side a second oaken cabinet, almost equally huge, and devoted to the reception of tobacco and cigars: an artistic pipe-rack, consisting of a number of heads cast in plaster-of-paris, was nailed against the wall, and pipes of all kinds, from the narghile of the Turk and the painted porcelain of the German to the humble cutty of the Irish labourer, were to be found about the room. At the end opposite to that by which Spiridion Pratt had entered was an open glass door leading into a lovely circular conservatory, where in the midst of a tesselated pavement a fountain was plashing, and where sweet singing birds were hanging amidst the ferns and flowers. In various parts of the room were three easels of different sizes, on one of which was a half-finished picture of a woman of great beauty and intellectual expression, but of a large size and commanding type. The colours on this picture were still wet, and on the ledge of the easel were the unclean palette and the sheaf of brushes. 'There is the Aspasie,' said the valet, pointing to the picture; 'and here,' producing them, 'are the cigarettes. Will not the signor take something to drink after his walk--a cup of coffee, or some Rhine wine and seltzer-water? It is here, close at hand.' 'No, thanks, Gaetano,' said Spiridion. 'I have a poor head, you know, and should never be able to do anything if I drank in the morning, but I will smoke a cigarette or two with pleasure, and will wait here, at all events, for half an hour to see if Mr. Eardley returns.' Then the valet bowed and left the room.