the strange forms of these vegetable
simulacra of the insect world, she replaced the sheathing of tissue
paper around the gorgeous mosaic of color; and just then, Sister Joanna
threw open the door, and ushered in a party of visitors, consisting of
two gentlemen and a lady. One was Mr. Kendall, a member of the Chapter
of Trustees.

"Good evening, Sister. Bishop Douglass, of our State, and Miss Gordon,
from the South. I have been boasting to them of the perfect success of
the 'Anchorage', as an industrial institution. Will you show us some of
the work done in this department?"

As on a swiftly revolving wheel, Beryl saw the black eyes and
gold-rimmed spectacles of Leighton Douglass; the shield-shaped amethyst
ring on his broad, white hand; the slender figure by his side, draped
in some soft brown tint of surah silk, the blond hair, the wide,
startled hazel eyes of Leo, who made a step forward, then paused
irresolute.

The gaze of the visitors was fastened upon the superb form wearing the
gray garb of flannel, with snowy fluted frills at the rounded wrists
and throat, and a ruffled white muslin mob cap crowning rich waves of
bronze hair, that framed a beautiful pale face, whose gray eyes kept
always the soft shadow of their long jet lashes.

Only half a minute sufficed to gird Beryl, and with no hint of
recognition in her tranquil countenance, she moved forward, opened the
drawers, and spread out for inspection various specimens of drawing and
painting, in all stages of advancement.

A crimson tide overflowed Leo's cheeks, but accepting the cue of
silence, she refrained from any manifestation of previous acquaintance;
and bending over the pictures, listened to the grave, sweet voice that
briefly, though courteously answered all inquiries concerning the
school, hours of classes, tuition fees, remunerative rates paid for
designs for carpets, wall papers and decorative upholstering. Unrolling
from a wooden cylinder a strip of thick paper, two yards long and
twenty inches wide, she displayed an elaborate arabesque pattern done
in sepia for a sgraffito frieze, sixteenth century, which had been
ordered by the architect of the new "Museum of Art".

"A bit of your favorite Florentine facade," said the Bishop, addressing
his cousin, and peering closely at the scroll work.

"In this corner of the world, one scarcely expects a glimpse of Andrea
Feltrini," answered Leo, avoiding the necessity of looking at Beryl, by
glancing