“The romance of race, yes, that’s what it is.” Then he came nearer to them, and told his love story.
“Ruth is to me not only my love, she is the ideal in my life. I am going to take her out of that beautiful dark house with its old portraits. I am going to make her soul young again.”
The artist went with him down the path to the bend of the road.
“Where shall I send the sketch?”
“To the College in Geneva. Would you mind if I gave it to my mother?”
“Oh, no! I will try to make it beautiful.”
Joseph lingered, looking again into the artist’s face with a touch of sadness.
“I feel as if I had known you a very long time.”
“You have—”
He drew the boy to him and kissed him and stood watching the young figure until it disappeared.