"It is unusual for a great heiress, like Miss Carew, to paint portraits."
"She is not a great heiress; Mr. Carew lost all his money two years ago. I think Miss Carew is almost quite poor."
A radiant look came over Antony's face. "Thank you very much indeed," he said. "I count on you to take care of this little commission for me," and he went out of the room in ecstasy, closing the door behind him.
CHAPTER V
He left his hansom at the entrance of the park, at 72nd Street.
There, on the corner, stood his uncle's house, a monument, to him, of the past. His heart beat hard as he looked at the unfriendly dwelling from whose doors he had rushed on the night of the winter blizzard, when, as it had seemed to him then, little Gardiner's spirit rushed with him out into the storm. From those windows Bella had waved her hand.
How his spirits had risen high with hope, the night on which he had first gone up those steps. It was on that night Bella had said to him, "Why, you have got a light step and a heavy step, Cousin Antony. I never heard any one walk like that before."
He tramped into Central Park, taking his way to the Metropolitan Museum. At the door he was informed that the museum was closed. He gave his card, and, after a few words with the man in charge, Thomas Rainsford the sculptor was let in and found himself, to all intents and purposes, alone. He wandered about the sculptures, wondering where the statue of little "Bella" would be placed.