left him to his work.

He met a number of his last winter's friends again, and called upon
Madame Grandoni, upon Miss Blanchard, and upon Gloriani, shortly after
their return. The ladies gave an excellent account of themselves.
Madame Grandoni had been taking sea-baths at Rimini, and Miss Blanchard
painting wild flowers in the Tyrol. Her complexion was somewhat browned,
which was very becoming, and her flowers were uncommonly pretty.
Gloriani had been in Paris and had come away in high good-humor, finding
no one there, in the artist-world, cleverer than himself. He came in a
few days to Roderick's studio, one afternoon when Rowland was present.
He examined the new statue with great deference, said it was very
promising, and abstained, considerately, from irritating prophecies. But
Rowland fancied he observed certain signs of inward jubilation on the
clever sculptor's part, and walked away with him to learn his private
opinion.

"Certainly; I liked it as well as I said," Gloriani declared in answer
to Rowland's anxious query; "or rather I liked it a great deal better. I
did n't say how much, for fear of making your friend angry. But one can
leave him alone now, for he 's coming round. I told you he could n't
keep up the transcendental style, and he has already broken down. Don't
you see it yourself, man?"

"I don't particularly like this new statue," said Rowland.

"That 's because you 're a purist. It 's deuced clever, it 's deuced
knowing, it 's deuced pretty, but it is n't the topping high art of
three months ago. He has taken his turn sooner than I supposed. What has
happened to him? Has he been disappointed in love? But that 's none of