crust of genius will be your portion," he added meaningly. "As I
remarked--the 'Goddess' has her eye upon you."

"And why do you so distinguish the lady?" asked the artist, quietly
amused--with just a hint of well-bred condescension. "Has Mrs. Taine such
powerful influence in the world of art?"

If Conrad Lagrange noticed his companion's manner he passed it by. "I
perceive," he said, "that you are still somewhat lacking in the rudiments
of your profession. The statement of faith adhered to by modern climbers
on the ladder of fame--such as I have been, and you aspire to be--is that
'Pull' wins. Our creed is 'Graft.' By 'Influence' we stand, by
'Influence' we fall. It pleases Mrs. Taine to be, in the world of art, a
lobbyist. She knows the insides of the inside rings and cliques and
committees that say what is, and what is not, art; that declare who shall
be, and who shall not be, artists. She has power with those who, in their
might, grant position and place in the halls of fame; as their kinsmen in
the political world pass the plums to those who court their favor. The
great critics who thunder anathemas at the poor devils who are outside,
eat out of her hand. Jim Rutlidge and his unholy crew are at her beck and
call. Jim, you see, needing all he can get of the Taine millions, hopes to
marry Louise. You can scarcely blame the young and beautiful Mrs. Taine
for not being interested in her husband--who is going to die so soon. The
poor girl must have some amusement, so she interests herself in art, don't
you know. She gives more dinners to artists and critics; buys more
pictures and causes more pictures to be bought; mothers more art-culture
clubs; discovers more new and startling geniuses; in short, has a larger
and better trained company of lions than any one else in the business. She
deals in lions. It's her fad to collect them--same as others collect
butterflies or postage stamps. She has one other fad that is less harmful