y opinion," with ill-concealed
derision.

"You are laughing at me now, of course, but I don't regard good-natured
raillery. I am sure I should not enjoy poetry as I do were I a better
critic. I love flowers far more than many who understand botany as a
science, and pull them to pieces scientifically and analytically."

"And paintings; do you love them?"

"Oh, passionately!"

"I confess I am _blase_ with art," he said, quietly; "I have seen so
much of it, I like nature far better;" adding, after a pause, "now, that
is your chief charm. Miss Monfort."

"What, being natural?"

"How well you divine my meaning!" with a little irony in the voice and
eye. The tendency of his mind was evidently sarcastic.

"Ah! true. Papa thinks me _too_ natural; he often checks my impulses.
Your father, too, coincides with him, I believe, in this opinion; but
don't talk about me. Tell me of your sojourn in Germany. How delightful
it must have been to have lived in Heidelberg, and felt the very
atmosphere you breathed filled with wisdom! Did you ever go to
Frankfort? Did you see the statue of Goethe there? Can you read 'Faust'
in the original? Oh, I should like to so much, but I know nothing of
German. I never could learn the character, I am convinced. French and
Italian only. There was such a beautiful picture of 'Margaret' in the
Academy of Fine Arts last year, I wanted papa to purchase it, but Evelyn
and he did not fancy it as much as I did. They prefer copies from the
old masters. I don't care a cent for Magdalenes and Madonnas and little
fat cherubs. I prefer illustrations of poetry or fiction; don't you, Mr.
Bainrothe?"

"Very frankly, Miss Monfort, I don't care for pictures at all, unless
for good landscapes. I am cloyed with them. And as to German books, I
never want to see another. The old 'Deer-Stealer' was worth all they
have ever written put together, in my opinion. I love the vernacular."

"Oh, of course, Shakespeare and the Bible; there is nothing like them
for truth and power. But to leave poetry for its sister art, you must
have enjoyed the music in Germany. Do you love music, Mr. Bainrothe?"

"Not very much, except in opera; then the scenery and lights and people
are half the charm. I don't care for science. Such an adventure as I had
last night," he murmured low, "was worth a dozen operas to me;" and
again I met his admiring, steady gaze, almost embarrassing, fixed upon
me.

"What are you two talking about?" aske