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place her nearer to the time when 'Adam delved and Eve span' than
to the classic age。〃
〃My dear Ik；〃 responded the artist； 〃I am often at a loss to know
whether I love or despise you most。 If a little of the whirr of
our great grandam's spinning wheel would only get into your brain
the world might hear from you。 You are a man of unbounded stomach
and unbounded heart； and so you have won all there is of me except
my head； and that disapproves of you。〃
〃A fig for the world！ what good will it do me or it to have it hear
from me？ you ambitious fellows are already making such a din that
the poor old world is half ready for Bedlam； and would go stark mad
were it not for us quiet； easy…going people； who have time for a
good dinner and a snack between meals。 You've got a genius that's
like a windmill in a trade wind； always in motion； you are worth
more money than I shall ever have； but you are the greatest drudge
in the studio building； and work as many hours as a house…painter。〃
〃When your brain once gets in motion； Ik； fiction will be its natural
product。 You must admit that I have not painted many pictures。〃
〃That is one of the things I complain of； I； your bosom friend and
familiar； your； I might add； guardian angelI； who have so often
saved your life by quenching the flame of your consuming genius
with a hearty dinner； have been able to obtain one picture only
from you； and as one might draw a tooth。 Your pictures are like
old maid's childrenthey must be so perfect that they can't exist
at all。 But come； the ten minutes are up。 Here's the programme
for the eveninga drive in the Park and a little dinner at a cool
restaurant near Thomas's Garden； and then the concert。 That prince
of musical caterers has made a fine selection for to…night； and；
with the cigar stand on one side of us and the orchestra on the
other； we are certain to kill a couple of hours that will die like
swans。〃
〃You mention the cigar…stand first。〃
〃Why not？ Smoke is more real than empty sound。〃
〃Are you not equally empty； Ik； save after dinner？ How have the
preceding hours of this long day been killed？〃
〃Like boas。 They have enfolded me with a weary weight。〃
〃The snakes in your comparison are larger than your pun； and the
pun； rather than yourself； suggests a constrictor's squeeze。〃
〃Come； you are only abusing me to gain time； and you may gain too
much。 My horses have more mettle than their master； and may carry
off my trap and groom to parts unknown； while you are wasting
paint and words。 You are like the animals at the Park； that are
good…natured only after they are fed。 So shut up your old paint
shop； and come along； we will shorten our ride and lengthen our
dinner。〃
With mutual chaffing and laughter the young men at last went down
to where a liveried coachman and a pair of handsome bays were in
waiting。 Taking the high front seat and gathering up the reins； Ik
Stanton； with his friend Harold Van Berg at his side； bowled away
towards the Park at a rapid pace。
Harold Van Berg was； in truth； something of a paradox。 He was an
artist； and yet was rich； he had inherited large wealth； and yet
had formed habits of careful industry。 The majority of his young
acquaintances； who had been launched from homes like his own； were
known only as sons of their fathers； and degenerate sons at that。
Van Berg was already winning a place among men on the ground of
what he was and could do himself。
It were hard to say which was the stronger motive； his ambition or
the love of his art； but it seemed certain that between the two；
such talent as he had been endowed with would be developed quite
thoroughly。 And he did possess decided talent； if not genius。 But
his artistic gift accorded with his character； and was controlled
by judgement； correct taste； and intellectuality rather than by
strong and erratic impulses。 His aims were definite and decided
rather than vague and diffusive； but his standards were so high
that； thus far； he had scarcely attempted more than studies that
were like the musician's scales by which he seeks to acquire a
skill in touch that shall enable him to render justly the works of
the great composers。
His family had praised his work unstintedly； and honestly thought
it wonderful； he had also been deluged with that kind of flattery
which relaxes the rules of criticism in favor of the wealthy。 Thus
it was not strange that the young fellow； at one time； believed
that he was born to greatness by a kindly decree of fate。 But as
his horizon widened he was taught better。 His mind； fortunately；
grew faster than his vanity； and as he compared his crude but
promising work with that of mature genius； he was not stricken
with that most helpless phase of blindnessthe inability to see
the superiority of others to one's self。 Every day； therefore；
of study and observation was now chastening Harold Van Berg and
preparing him to build his future success on the solid ground of
positive merit as compared with that of other and gifted artists。
Van Berg's taste and talent led him to select； as his specialty；
the human form and countenance； and he chiefly delighted in those
faces which were expressive of some striking or subtle characteristic
of the indwelling mind。 He would never be content to paint surfaces
correctly； giving to features merely their exact proportions。 Whether
the face were historical； ideal； or a portrait； the controlling
trait or traits of the spirit within must shine through； or else
he regarded the picture as scarcely half finished。
A more sincere idolator than Van Berg； in his worship of beauty；
never existed； but it was the beauty of a complete man or a complete
woman。 Even in his early youth he had not been so sensuous as to
be captivated by that opaque fragment of a womanan attractive
form devoid of a mind。 Indeed with the exception of a few boyish
follies； his art had been his mistress thus far； and it was beginning
to absorb both heart and brain。
With what a quiet pulsewith what a complacent sense of security
we often meet those seemingly trivial events which may change the
whole character of our lives！ The ride had been taken； the dinner
enjoyed； and the two friends were seated in the large cool hallway
off the concert garden； where they could smoke without offence。 The
unrivalled leader； Thomas； had just lifted his batonthat magic
wand whose graceful yet mysterious motion evokes with equal ease；
seemingly； the thunder of a storm； the song of a bird； the horrid
din of an inferno； or a harmony so pure and lofty as to suggest
heavenly strains。 One of Beethoven's exquisite symphonies was to
be rendered； and Van Berg threw away his half…burned cigar； settled
himself in his chair and glanced around with a congratulatory air；
as if to say； 〃Now we are to have one of those pleasures which
fills the cup of life to overflowing。〃
Oh； that