He was a frequent visitor, and as he had not called for some days it was likely he would come that evening.

Rowland, left alone, examined the statuette at his leisure, and returned more than once during the day to take another look at it.

He discovered its weak points, but it wore well.

It had the stamp of genius.

Rowland envied the happy youth who, in a New England village, without aid or encouragement, without models or resources, had found it so easy to produce a lovely work.
In the evening, as he was smoking his cigar on the veranda, a light, quick step pressed the gravel of the garden path, and in a moment a young man made his bow to Cecilia.