"Helen is painting a picture," said the artist, the corners of her mouth twitching. "She calls it symbolic. It is the rich young man of the Gospels going back to his own selfish life. There's a group of ragged people in the foreground. One model posed for them all. The young man is turning away. Only, the perspective is queer, and the canvas is so crowded with the poor that there isn't going to be much room for the rich young man."
"Can the child draw?"
"No, but she can feel," said Anne slowly. "She has too much ambition in her heart, and not enough in her fingers. We women are all like that. We'd rather think how glorious our work is than do it."
"Helen is one of those whom the gods send far off to find that which lies nearest at hand," responded Mrs. Kent.
From the interesting people who had become her friends, Helen turned wistfully to those whom she wished to help. Her serious purpose had not been forgotten. She watched her fellow-Bohemians with
