He told me about his life as an art student--Paris, Rome, all that; and it was my ideal of romance.

He was very poor, sometimes so poor that he hardly had enough to eat, and this made me proud of him, for I felt sure he could have got money if he would have condescended to do inferior work.

Of course, as I too was poor, we could not think of marrying before his position improved.

At last he painted 'Sanctuary.' He told me nothing about it.

I came and saw it on the easel, nearly finished.