The Indianapolis journal., 1885-01-03

when she was called an earth -clogged soul 1t
was very odd, too that her suitor should have hit
upon the very same phrase in protesting against
her frankness that she had employed in shield
ing herself against Greifenstetts unconvention-
al candor. She could scarcely explain it to her
self, but Romilys displeasure (which formerly
would have ruffled her considerably seemed at
present rather amusing than formidable He
seemed to have undergone some queer trans
formation, and his social Importance, which had
formerly impaired to him certain dignity. had
become a matter Of no moment He seemed to
become dimly aware that the wind was blow
ing from an unpropitious quarter, and he made
haste to bow himself out before he had actually
lost his temper. He had never been SO NAL
treated in all his lfe and he trembed under
sense of outrage which slowly imbedded Itself
In his soul like some restless, burrowing insect
He was one of those men who grow angry by
degrees, and reach white heat after hours OF
indignant reflection. All sorts of deiciously
cutting things that he might have said kept oc-
curing to him, and if it had not beeIsso
them. He was keenly conscious, however
radiantly lovely as she did to-day, and he
knew that in case he should feel tempted toun-
load the quiver of his sarcasms, her beauty
would promptly disarm him. There was an ami
nation in her face and gesture which he had
never witnessed there before. as if the music
somehow, had lent its rhythm to her pulses and
mixed some stirring notes into the cadence of
her voice. His vaguely patronizing feeling to-
ward her vanished, and, odd as it may seem, her
Indifference made her supremely desirable
Instead of boasting of his anonymous conquests
(which had been one Of Romillys favorite diver
sions at his club, he took up copy of the North
American Review for the purpose of improving
himself intellectually, SO as to be match for
her at their next meeting. Since she had taken
a fancy to that sort of thing, why, he would show
her that he was the man to beat her on her own
ground
Max stood in Miss Van Tassells drawing room.
The light was dim, but not too dim to show him
that he was quite shabby He stood and regard
ed himself seriously in the looking glass; which
showed his whole figure to cruel disadvantage.
1t had never occurred to him before that he was
addressed. Music was of such vastly greater
Importance than dress that it seemed undignifed
in man who devoted his life to the former
to have any concern about the latter. 1t was
only the subdued splendor of the Van Tassell
mansion which, in general way, impressed him
with the fact that he was not exactly CONNIE il
faut But he was quite unable to fix upon any
detail of his attire which might invite criticism.
He was not aware that his trousers were baggy
at the knees; that his coat was shiny and made
no pretense to adapt itself to his figure; that his
necktie faunted its originality in the face of an
astonished world. When ne strode along the
street. with his shabby cape flung over his
shoulders, and broad brmmed sombrero hang
ing on the back of his head, people who met him
smiled and stepped out of his way for fear of be-
ing run down; for his large dark eyes always
stared with a self absorbed look straight before
him, and he seemed always on the point of catch
ing some Elusive object that appeared to be fee
ing at great speed few yards in advance of
him. He had a powerfully modelled face, high,
spacious forehead, beetling brow, large nose,
mouth and chin, all with decided picturesque
curve in them, which emphasized his alenism.
His hands were long and white, with prominent
joints and knuckles Nothing about him was
beautiful, unless il were his eyes. which had
deep and luminous gaze; but everything was
emphatic and interesting. His hair, perhaps,
might have been trimmed into something bor-
dering on beauty; Cor, though it was coarse, it
had dense, vigorous curl in it, and formed all
sorts of striking lines about his face in its un-
studied disorder.
Max Greifenstett as / have intimated was
quite unconscious of his ''points" either good or
bad; and what was far more incredible, when
Catharine rustled into his presence with the
breath of fresh wintry air in her cheeks and in
her garments, he could not have told whether
she was plain handsome woman. Per
haps, if somebody had raised the question, he
would have felt impelled to decdeit But there
were so many matters in this world which were
of greater Importance than the looks of girls,
that Max very properly felt that he could not
afford to waste his time on things of no conse-
quence
II am ever so sorry, Mr.. Greifenstett" ex-
claimed Catharine. as she threw off her wraps
and shook hands with him with frank cordialty;
II had not meant to keep you waiting But
Isman kicked off one of his shoes, and flung it
against the window of another carriage. had
to give my address, and offer to hold papa re-
sponsbe for the damages"
She spoke with brisk animation which seemed
in keeping with the weather
II understand. 1t is well" said Max, as he
opened the grand piano and propped up the lid.
He would not give the customary assurance that
the delay made no difference; for every minute
which his teaching stole from his legitimate oc-
cupation as composer seemed an irreparable
loss She felt little piqued at his lack of breed
ing, as she deemed it. and sat down and played
in rapid, mechanical fashion an '.impromptu'
by Schubert, which he had given her for les
son. When she had finished he arose and walked
to the other end of the piano. where he turned
and faced her.
''Well," she queried: ''what do you think of