Transcriber’s Note:
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
John Campton, the American portrait-painter,stood in his bare studio in Montmartre at the endof a summer afternoon contemplating a battered calendarthat hung against the wall.
The calendar marked July 30, 1914.
Campton looked at this date with a gaze of unmixedsatisfaction. His son, his only boy, who was comingfrom America, must have landed in England that morning,and after a brief halt in London would join himthe next evening in Paris. To bring the moment nearer,Campton, smiling at his weakness, tore off the leafand uncovered the 31. Then, leaning in the window,he looked out over his untidy scrap of garden at thesilver-grey sea of Paris spreading mistily below him.
A number of visitors had passed through the studiothat day. After years of obscurity Campton had beenprojected into the light—or perhaps only into the limelight—byhis portrait of his