, I should like to see them with you."

He could see that her aesthetic taste had been absorbed by music, and
that pictures meant nothing to her, but they meant a great deal to him,
and, unable to resist the temptation, he said--"Let us go in for a
little while, though it does seem a pity to waste this beautiful Spring
day."

There was an official who took her parasol and his cane, and they were
impressed by the fact of having to write their names side by side in the
book--Sir Owen Asher, Evelyn Innes.

On pushing through the swing-door, they found themselves in a small room
hung with the Dutch school. There were other rooms, some four or five,
opening one into the other, and lighted so that the light fell sideways
on to the pictures. Owen praised the architecture. It was, he said, the
most perfectly-constructed little gallery he had ever seen, and he ought
to know, for he had seen every gallery in Europe. But he had not been
here for many years and had quite forgotten it. "A veritable radiation
of masterpieces," he said, stepping aside to see one. But the girl was
the greater attraction, and only half satisfied he returned to her, and
when the attraction of the pictures grew irresistible he tried to engage
her attention in their beauties, so that he might be allowed to enjoy
them. To his surprise and pleasure the remarks he had hazarded provoked
an extraordinary interest in her, and she begged of him to tell her more
about the paintings. He was not without suspicion that the pictures were
a secondary interest; but as it was clear that to hear him talk excited
her admiration, he favoured her with all he knew regarding the Dutch
school. She followed attentive as a peahen, he spreading a gorgeous tail
of accumulated information. He asked if the dark background in Cuyp's
picture, "The White Horse and the Riding School," was not admirable? And
that old woman peeling onions in her little kitchen, painted by a modern
would be realistic and vulgar; but the Dutchman knew that by light and
shade the meanest subject could be made as romantic as a fairy tale. As
dreamers and thinkers they did not compare with the Italians, but as
painters they were equal to any. They were the first to introduce the
trivialities of daily life into Art--the toil of the field, the gross
pleasures of the tavern. "Look at these boors drinking; they are by
Ostade. Are they not admirably drawn and painted? "Brick-making in a
Landscape, by Teniers the y