drecall　a　waiting　promise　made　to　me　years　and　years　ago。　And　the　wedding！　Surely　you　have　not　forgotten　that。　I　was　there；　you　rememberbut　not　as　the　groom。
  On　one　particular　evening　in　Junean　evening　that　marked　an　important　stage　in　the　development　of　Oliver's　fortunesthe　front　porch；　owing　to　Malachi's　attentions；　was　in　spotless　conditionsteps；　knocker；　and　round　silver　knobs。
  Sue　and　Oliver　sat　on　the　top　step；　they　had　stolen　across　from　the　Clayton　porch　on　some　pretended　errand。　Sue's　chin　was　in　her　hand；　and　Oliver　sat　beside　her　pouring　out　his　heart　as　he　had　never　done　before。　He　had　realized　long　ago　that　she　could　never　understand　his　wanting　to　be　a　painter　as　Miss　Clendenning　had　done；　and　so　he　had　never　referred　to　it　since　the　night　of　the　musicale；　when　he　had　raced　across　the　Square　to　tell　her　of　his　talk　with　the　little　lady。　Sue；　as　he　remembered　afterward；　　had　listened　abstractedly。　She　would　have　preferred　at　the　time　his　running　in　to　talk　about　herself　rather　than　about　his　queer　ambitions。　She　was　no　more　interested　now。
  〃Ollie；　what　does　your　father　say　about　all　this？〃　she　finally　asked　in　a　perfunctory　way。　〃Would　he　be　willing　for　you　to　be　a　painter？〃　It　bored　her　to　listen　to　Oliver's　enthusiastic　talk　about　light　and　shade；　and　color　and　perspective；　and　what　Mr。　Crocker　had　said　and　what　Mr。　Crocker　was　doing；　and　what　Mr。　Crocker's　last　portrait　was　like。　She　was　sure　that　nobody　else　around　Kennedy　Square　talked　of　such　things　or　had　such　curious　ambitions。　They　shocked　her　as　much　as　Oliver's　wearing　some　outlandish　clothes　would　have　donemaking　him　conspicuous　and；　perhaps；　an　object　of　ridicule。
  〃Father's　all　right；　Sue。　He's　always　right；〃　Oliver　　answered。　〃He　believes　in　Mr。　Crocker；　just　as　he　believes　in　a　lot　of　things　that　a　good　many　people　　around　here　don't　understand。　He　believes　the　time　will　come　when　they　will　value　his　pictures；　and　be　proud　to　own　them。　But　I　don't　care　who　owns　mine；　I　just　want　the　fun　of　painting　them。　Just　think　of　what　a　man　can　do　with　a　few　tubes　of　color；　a　brush；　and　a　bit　of　canvas。　So　I　don't　care　if　they　never　buy　what　I　paint。　I　can　get　along　somehow；　just　as　Mr。　Crocker　does。　He's　poor；　but　just　see　how　happy　he　is。　Why；　when　he　does　a　good　thing　he's　nothing　but　a　boy；　he's　so　glad　about　it。　I　always　know　how　his　work　has　gone　when　I　see　his　face。〃
  〃But；　Ollie；　he's　so　shabby；　and　his　daughter　gives　music…lessons。　Nobody　THINKS　of　inviting　her　anywhere。〃　　Sue's　eyes　were　shut　tight；　with　an　expression　　of　assumed　contempt；　and　her　little　nose　was　straight　up。
  〃Yesbut　that　doesn't　hurt　his　pictures；　Sue。〃　There　was　a　slight　trace　of　impatience　in　Oliver's　tone。
  〃Well；　perhaps　it　doesn'tbut　you　don't　want　to　be　like　him。　I　wouldn't　like　to　see　you；　Ollie；　going　about　with　a　picture　under　your　arm　that　everybody　knew　you　had　painted　yourself。　And　suppose　that　they　would　want　to　buy　your　pictures？　How　would　you　feel　now　to　be　taking　other　people's　money　for　things　you　had　painted？〃
  The　boy　caught　his　breath。　It　seemed　useless　to　pursue　the　talk　with　Sue。　She　evidently　had　no　sympathy　with　his　aspirations。
  〃Nobut　I　wish　I　could　paint　as　he　does；〃　he　answered；　mechanically。
  Sue　saw　the　change　in　his　manner。　She　realized；　too；　that　she　had　hurt　him　in　some　way。　She　drew　nearer　and　put　her　hand　on　his　arm。
  〃Why；　you　can；　Ollie。　You　can　do　anything　you　want　to；　Miss　Lavinia　told　me　so。〃　The　little　witch　was　mistress　of　one　artthat　of　holding　her　lover　but　that　was　an　art　of　which　all　the　girls　about　Kennedy　　Square　approved。
  〃No；　I　can't；〃　he　replied；　forgetting　in　the　caressing　　touch　of　her　hand　the　tribute　to　his　ability；　and　delighted　that　she　was　once　more　in　sympathy　with　him。　〃Mother　wouldn't　think　of　my　being　an　artist。　She　doesn't　understand　how　I　feel　about　it；　and　Miss　Lavinia；　somehow；　doesn't　seem　to　be　favorable　　to　it　either。　I've　talked　to　her　lots　of　times　she　was　more　encouraging　at　first；　but　she　doesn't　seem　to　like　the　idea　now。　I've　been　hoping　she'd　fix　it　so　I　could　speak　to　mother　about　it。　Now　she　tells　me　I　had　better　wait。　I　can't　see　why　Miss　Lavinia　knows　what　an　artist's　life　can　be；　for　she　knew　plenty　of　painters　when　she　was　in　London　with　her　father；　and　she　loves　pictures；　too；　and　is　a　good　judgenobody　here　any　better。　She　told　me　only　a　week　ago　how　much　one　of　these　Englishmen　was　paid　for　a　little　thing　as　big　as　your　hand；　but　I've　forgotten　the　amount。　I　don't　see　why　I　can't　paint　as　well　as　those　fellows。　Do　you　know；　Sue；　I'm　beginning　　to　think　that　about　half　the　people　in　Kennedy　　Square　are　asleep？　They　really　don't　seem　to　think　there　is　anything　respectable　but　the　law。　If　they　are　right；　how　about　all　the　men　who　painted　the　great　pictures　and　built　all　the　cathedrals；　or　the　men　who　wrote　all　the　poems　and　histories？　Mother；　of　course；　wants　me　to　be　a　lawyer。　Because　I'm　fitted　for　it？not　a　bit　of　it！　Simply　because　father　was　one　before　me　and　his　father　before　him；　and　Uncle　John　Tilghman　another；　and　so　on　back　to　the　deluge。〃
  Sue　drew　away　a　little　and　turned　her　head　toward　the　Square　as　if　in　search　of　someone。　Oliver　noticed　　the　movement　and　his　heart　sank　again。　He　saw　but　too　clearly　how　little　impression　the　story　of　his　ambitions　had　made　upon　her。　Then　the　thought　flashed　into　his　mind　that　he　might　have　offended　her　in　some　way；　clashing　against　her　traditions　and　her　prejudices　as　he　had　done。　He　bent　toward　her　and　laid　his　hand　in　hers。
  〃Little　girl；〃　he　said；　in　a　softened　tone；　〃I　can't　make　you　unhappy；　too。　Mother　is　enough　for　me　to　worry　aboutI　haven't　talked　it　all　out　to　you　before；　but　don't　you　get　a　wrong　idea　of　what　I'm　going　to　do〃　and　he　looked　up　into　her　face　and　tightened　his　hold　upon　her　fingers；　his　eyes　never　wavering　from　her　own。
  The　girl　allowed　his　hand　to　remain　an　instant；　then　quickly　withdrew　her　own　and　started　up。　Coyness　is　sometimes　fear　in　the　timid　heart　that　is　stepping　into　the　charmed　circle　for　the　first　time。
  〃There　goes　Ella　Dorsey　and　Jack〃　she　cried；　springing　down　the　steps。　〃Ella！　Ella！〃　and　an　answering　halloo　came　back；　and　the　two　started　from　Malachi's　steps　and　raced　up　the　street　to　join　their　young　friends。
  CHAPTER　IV
  AN　OLD…FASHIONED　MORTGAGE
  Pretty　Sue　Clayton　with　her　ringlets　and　rosy　cheeks　had　not　been　Oliver's　only　listener。
  His　mother　had　been　sitting　inside　the　drawing…　room；　just　beside　the　open　window。　She　had　spoken　to　Sue　and　Oliver　when　they　first　mounted　the　steps；　and　had　begged　them　both　to　come　in；　but　they　had　forgotten　her　presence。　Unintentionally；　therefore；　she　had　heard　every　word　of　the　conversation。　Her　old　fears　rushed　over　her　again　with　renewed　force。　She　had　never　for　a　moment　supposed　that　Oliver　wanted　to　be　a　painterlike　Mr。　Crocker！　Now　at　last　she　understood　his　real　object　in　talking　to　Lavinia　the　night　of　the　musical。
  〃Richard；〃　she　called　softly　to　her　husband　sitting　　in　the　adjoining　room；　in　the　chair　that　Malachi；　in　accordance　with　the　old　custom；　had　with　his　sweeping　bow　made　ready　for　him。　The　inventor　had　been　there　since　tea　was　over；　lying　back　in　his　seat；　his　head　resting　on　his　hand。　He　had　had　one　of　his　thoughtful　days；　worrying　over　some　detail　of　his　machine；　still　incomplete。　The　new　device　of　which　he　had　told　her　with　such　glee　had　failed；　as　had　the　others。　The　motor　was　still　incomplete。
  〃Richard；〃　she　repeated。
  〃Yes；　my　dear；〃　he　answered；　in　his　gentle　voice。　He　had　not　heard　her　at　first。
  〃Bring　your　chair　over　here。〃
  The　inventor　rose　instantly　and；　crossing　the　room；　took　a　seat　beside　her；　his　hand　finding　hers　in　the　dark。
  〃What　is　this　you　have　been　saying　to　Oliver　about　artists　being　great　men？〃　she　asked。　〃He's　got　a　new　idea　in　his　head　nowhe　wants　to　be　a　painter。　I've　thought　for　some　time　that　Mr。　Crocker　was　not　a　proper　person　for　him　to　be　so　much　with。　He　has　evidently　worked　on　the　boy's　imagination　until　he　has　determined　to　give　up　the　law　and　study　art。〃
  〃How　do　you　know？〃
  〃I've　just　heard　him　tell　Sue　Clayton　so。　All　he　wants　now　is　my　consenthe　says　he　has　yours。〃
  The　inventor　paused；　and　gently　smoothed　his　wife's　fingers　with　his　own。
  〃And　you　would　not　give　it？〃　he　inquired。
  〃How　could　I？　It　would　ruin　himdon't　you　know　it？〃　There　was　a　slight　tinge　of　annoyance　in　her　voicenot　one　of　fault…finding；　but　rather　of　anxiety。
  〃That　depends；　my　dear；　on　how　well　he　could　succeed；〃　he　answered；　gently。
  〃Why；　Richard！〃　She　withdrew　her　hand　quickly　　from　his　caressing　touch；　and　looked　at　him　in　undisguised　　astonishment。　〃What　has　his　SUCCEEDING　to　do　with　it？　Surely　you　cannot　be　in　earnest？　I　am　willing　he　should　do　anything　to　make　his　living；　　but　not　that。　No　one　we　know　has　ever　been　a　painter。　It　is　neither　respectable　nor　profitable。　You　see　what　a　dreadful　existence　Mr。　Crocker　leads　hardly　an　associate　in　town；　and　no　acquaintances　for　his　daughter；　and　he's　been　painting　ever　since　he　was　a　boy。　Oliver　could　not　earn　a　penny　at　such　work。〃
  〃Money　is　not　everything；　my　dear；　nor　social　recognition。　There　are　many　things　I　would　value　more。〃
  〃What　are　they？〃　She　was　facing　him　now；　her　brows　knit；　a　marked　antagonism　in　her　voic