When it was weary of moping and mowing and sobbing and wailing and gibbering, she could curl up at the foot of your bed and sleep; as Czar, here, curls up and sleeps at the foot of mine.

A good ghost, you know--if he becomes really attached to you--is as constant and faithful and affectionate and companionable as a good dog." "B-r-r-r," said the artist.

And Czar turned to look at him, questioningly.
"All the same"-- the painter continued--"when I was out there in the studio, I could feel some one watching me--you know the feeling." Conrad Lagrange returned mockingly, "I trust your over-sensitive, artistic temperament is not to be so influenced by our ghostly visitor that you will be unfitted for your work." The other laughed.

Then he said seriously, "Joking aside, Lagrange, I feel a presentiment--I can't put it into words--but--I feel that I _am_ going to begin the real work of my life right here.

I"-- he hesitated--"it seems to me that I can sense some influence that I can't define--it's the mystery of the rose garden, perhaps," he finished with another short laugh.
The man, who, in the eyes of the world, had won so large a measure of the success that his friend desired; and whose life was so embittered by the things for which he was envied by many; made no reply other than his slow, twisted smile.
Silently, they watched the purple shadows of the mountains deepen; and saw the outlines of the tawny foothills grow vague and dim, until they were lost in the dusky monotone of the evening.