is national
accuracy. "But Signor Reanda will not quarrel with me on that account, I
am sure."

"But I did not except Raphael, nor any one," persisted Gloria, before
Reanda could speak.

"Really, Signorina, though I am mortal and susceptible, you go a little
too far. Flattery is not appreciation, you know."

"It is not flattery," she answered, and the colour rose in her face. "I
am quite in earnest. Nobody ever painted anything better than your Cupid
and Psyche. Raphael's is dull and uninteresting compared with it."

"I blush, but I cannot accept so much," said the Italian, smiling
politely, but still trying to discover whether she meant what she said
or not.

In spite of himself, as before, he continued to believe her, though his
judgment told him that hers could not be worth much. But he was pleased
to have made such an impression, and by quick degrees his prejudice
against her began to disappear. What had seemed like boldness in her no
longer shocked him, and he described it to himself as the innocent
frankness of a foreign girl. It was not possible that any one so like
the dead Maria Braccio could be vulgar or bold. From that moment he
began to rank Gloria as belonging to the higher sphere from which his
birth excluded him. It was a curious and quick transition, and he would
not have admitted that it was due to her exaggerated praise of his work.
Strange as it must seem to those not familiar with the almost impassable
barriers of old Italian society, Reanda had that evening, for the first
time in his life, the sensation of being liked, admired, and talked with
by a woman of Francesca Campodonico's class; stranger still, it was one
of the most delicious sensations he had ever experienced. Yet the woman
in question was but a girl not yet seventeen years old. Before he rose
to go home, he unconsciously resented Griggs's silent admiration for
Gloria. To the average Italian, such silence is a sign that a man is in
love, and Reanda was the more attracted to Gloria because she treated
Griggs with such perfect indifference.

It was nearly one o'clock when he lighted his taper to descend the
stairs. Griggs was also ready to go. It was a relief to know that he was
not going to stay behind and talk with Gloria. They went down in
silence.

"I wanted to ask you a question," said the American, as they came out
upon the street, and blew out their tapers. "We live in opposite
directions, so I must ask it now. Should you mi