since it strikes you, perhaps it 's true. It 's a great happiness; I
would not exchange it for a great deal of money."

"Yes, I suppose it 's a great happiness," said Rowland. "I shall really
think of you as living here in a state of scandalous bliss. I don't
believe it 's good for an artist to be in such brutally high spirits."

Singleton stared for a moment, as if he thought Rowland was in earnest;
then suddenly fathoming the kindly jest, he walked about the room,
scratching his head and laughing intensely to himself. "And Mr. Hudson?"
he said, as Rowland was going; "I hope he is well and happy."

"He is very well," said Rowland. "He is back at work again."

"Ah, there 's a man," cried Singleton, "who has taken his start once
for all, and does n't need to stop and ask himself in fear and trembling
every month or two whether he is advancing or not. When he stops, it 's
to rest! And where did he spend his summer?"

"The greater part of it at Baden-Baden."

"Ah, that 's in the Black Forest," cried Singleton, with profound
simplicity. "They say you can make capital studies of trees there."

"No doubt," said Rowland, with a smile, laying an almost paternal
hand on the little painter's yellow head. "Unfortunately trees are not
Roderick's line. Nevertheless, he tells me that at Baden he made some
studies. Come when you can, by the way," he added after a moment,
"to his studio, and tell me what you think of something he has lately
begun." Singleton declared that he would come delightedly, and Rowland