The little beast had the assurance of the devil. He praised, blamed,
patronized, puffed his pipe, and dwelt with superiority on topics which
are best left alone, until Wilmot wanted to kick him downstairs.
Scupper, aware of Wilmot's dislike for him, and thoroughly cognizant of
its causes, did his best to goad the "young prude" (as he chose to
consider him) into open hostility. He strutted, boasted, puffed, and
talked loosely without avail. Wilmot maintained a beautiful calm, and
the more he raged internally the more Chesterfieldian and gorgeously at
ease his manners became. Barbara enjoyed the contest between the terrier
and the Newfoundland hugely. Personally she disliked Scupper almost as
much as she liked Wilmot, but artistically she admired him tremendously
and felt that his judgments and criticisms were the most valuable things
to be had in the whole city.

Wilmot not only kept his temper, but outstayed his antagonist. The
latter gone, he turned upon Barbara, and she in mock terror held up her
hands for mercy; but Wilmot was not in a merciful mood.

"When you imagine that you are uplifting the cause of art, Barbs, are
you sure that you aren't debasing it? You won't marry a man who has
always loved you. _Art._ You put marble and bronze higher than little
children. _Art._ You allow disreputable, unwashed men to talk in your
presence as that man talked. _Art._ You hire people of bad character to
sit for you, and people of no character. All art. You treat them in a
spirit of friendliness and camaraderie. You affect to place art above
all considerations; above character, above morals; worse, you place it
above cleanliness.

"A man--yes, take him for all and all, a man--eats out his heart for