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 often. But this picture was of three tired little shop-girls who, after working all day, couldn't sleep in their hot garret and went swimming in the river."

"All Paris," said Mrs. Ludlow, "is saying that it is one of the loveliest pictures ever painted."

"The tough part was the stars and the mist," said Edward. "I worked my head off over that."

"But what a subject!" exclaimed Mrs. Eaton.

"A subject comes into your head, mother dear," said Edward, "and you have to paint it. There is no way out."

"What is the other painting?"

"Just an old house in Corsica—with a green tile roof, and a fig tree, and a tremendous wine-colored shadow on one side."

"That," said Mrs. Eaton, "I should conceive to be a far more suitable subject for a painting."

"Maybe it is," said Edward, "but I love to paint figures. And it is not so easy as you might think."

"The Pirate's House," said Mrs. Ludlow, "is being considered by the Luxembourg."

"What!" exclaimed Edward.

Mrs. Ludlow nodded. And then, feeling sure that she had thrown a net around her lion, she rose and said her good-bys. She invited Edward, quite casually, to call upon her. He promised that he would do so. He escorted her to her carriage,