"I admire you for being able to make time serve you instead of serving
time like the rest of us," Mrs. Frostwinch said.
"I shouldn't hear another call you a time server without taking up the
cudgels to defend you," responded Edith.
Mrs. Frostwinch smiled in reply to this. Then she turned again to
Helen.
"To tell the truth, Mrs. Greyson," she observed, "I am glad you are not
concerned in this statue, for I am myself one of a band of conspirators
who are pushing the claims of a new man."
"Is there a new sculptor?" Helen asked, smiling. "That is wonderful
news."
"Yes; we think he is the coming man. His name is Stanton; Orin
Stanton."
"Oh," responded Helen, with involuntary frankness in her accent.
Mrs. Frostwinch laughed with perfect good nature.
"You don't admire him?" she commented. "Well, many don't. To say the
truth, I do not think anybody alive, if you will pardon me, Mrs.
Greyson, knows the truth about sculpture. Perhaps the Greeks did, but
we don't, even when we are told. I know the Soldiers' Monument on the
Common is hideous beyond words, because everybody says so; but they
didn't when it was put up. Only a few artists objected then."
"And the fact that a few artists have brought everybody to their
opinion," Edith asked, "doesn't make you feel that they must be right;
must have the truth behind them?"
"No; frankly, I can't say that it does," Mrs.
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