"Come," she called; and Grant Herman entered in response to the
invitation.

He carried in his arms a large vase, about whose sides green and golden
dragons coiled themselves in fantastic relief.

"Your vase came from the kiln," he said, "and I knew you would want to
see it at once. It is the most successful firing they have done here."

"Oh, I am so glad," she returned, laying down her modeling tools, and
approaching him eagerly. "I was sure there wouldn't be a head or a tail
left by the time the poor monsters came out of the fiery furnace. What
a splendid color that back is! And that golden fin is gorgeous."

"Yes, Mrs. Greyson," Herman said, "you have produced a veritable
dragon's brood this time. I can almost hear them hiss."

"Do you know," she responded, smoothing the glittering shapes with half
chary touches. "I should not be wholly willing to have the vase in my
room at night. They might, you know, come to life and go gliding about
in a ghastly way."

"I always wondered," the sculptor observed, "that Eve had the courage
to talk with the serpent. Do you suppose she squealed when she saw
him?"

"Oh, no, she probably divined that mischief was brewing, and that
contented her."