"I have nothing to say to you"--returned Mrs. Taine, coldly--"stand aside please."
But Conrad Lagrange quietly closed the door. "I think, Mrs. Taine," he remarked dryly, "than you will be interested in what Miss Willard has to say."
"Oh, very well," returned the other, making the best of the situation. "Evidently, you heard what I just said to your protege."
The novelist answered, "We did. Accept my compliments madam; you did it very nicely."
"Thanks," she retorted, "I see you still play your role of protector. You might tell your charge whether or not I am mistaken as to the probable result of his--ah--artistic conscientiousness."
"Mr. King knows that you are not. You have, indeed, put the situation rather mildly. It is a sad fact, but, never-the-less, a fact, that the noblest work is often forced to remain unrecognized and unknown to the world by the same methods that are used to exalt the unworthy. You undoubtedly have the power of which you boast, Mrs. Taine, but--"
"But what?" she said triumphantly. "You think I will hesitate to use my influence?"
"I know you will not use it--in this case," came the unexpected answer.
She laughed mockingly, "And why not? What will prevent?"
"The one thing on earth, that you fear, madam"--answered Conrad Lagrange--"the eyes of the world."