The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1914-12-04
CHAPTER Discontinued.

Madonna, I beg that we talk Of
something else than myself" he con-
tinued. These pictures Of De Bush
par example. You must go to them.
He Is wonderful as an interpreter
either Of character or personality"
VERY WELL" said she. not looking at
him, for she was piqued at the purely
friendly unsentimental glance with
which he had returned her somewhat
languishing one.
How he avoided the personal! 1t
seemed as though he feared it above
everything. and detecting the approach
of an intimate note, changed the
theme at once.
II have a curious sketch of Leigh's
with me-" he said, changing the sub
5ect determinedly; would you care to
see it,"
"Oh, yes, like that man Leigh-al-
though he never pays the slightest at
tention to me-nor indeed to any wom-
an, for that matter. He looks as If he
could be intensely interesting IL he
would only talk. But though l have
known him, en- PEASANT, for years, l
never seem to get at him at all"
"You are certainly right In suppos-
ing him to be interesting!" exclaimed
Pedro, his eyes lighting up at this ap-
probation Of his friend. "He is a man
among men! A great mind; sincere
artist. One night not long ago we
we're talking about form In music, and
he told me that he had caught nature
herself demonstrating their intimate
kinship. Listen-he saw the Pocantico
hills against the sunset, and suddenly
It occurred to him that If five parallel
lines were drawn behind them in a
given space Gas the foundations of a
music score are drawn) the outlines Of
the hills against them would form a
melody where the extreme height and
depths of outline occurred. He made
a drawing of the hills, cut it out, laid
1t upon the five black lines, and behold
"a melody resulted, which he showed
me upon the piano. He afterward gave
me the drawing; 1t Is in this pocket, l
think"
He fumbled in the depths of the old
green coat, while Iris waited with
bated breath.
How good he was to look at; q
trifle slight, possibly; but what won
derful hair he had, that curled a little.
All, he had found the paper!
Together they were leaning over it
M ha eprood II upop Tho tahlaoIotl,
when a sharp exclamation from across
the room caused them to look up
hastily. In the doorway stood Reginald
Vanderpool, his aristocratic clean
Bhaven face for the instant blanched,
his eyes fixed upon Pedro as though
In fascinated unbelief. Iris covered
the odd situation quickly.
"Signor Pedro" she said, this Is
my father"
On the moment the mans face be-
came impressive, and with courteous
grace he advanced to greet the guest
at his table.
Are you the painter of whom the
morning paper speaks?" he inquired Of
Pedro. Pardon my not knowing"
4 suppose am" replied Pedro
composedly.
"Ah! shall be interested In seeing
your work." said Vanderpool. But his
tone was perfunctory, except for a
note Of what might have been disap-
pointment. After this he spoke very
little, but whenever the conversation
between his daughter and Pedro be-
came most animated he would steal a
covert look at the youth-a look full
of interest and something else, too,
which would have been difficult for an
observer to define.
A servant, entering with a note.
caused a diversion, and as he put the
envelope into his pocket, Vanderpool
arose, although he had scarcely eaten
anything.
Sorry, but ] must run along" he
said, and went out as abruptly as he
had come.
Iris suggested the gray room, and
they climbed the stair to 1t and sat
themselves upon the sofa where Hill
and she had quarreled. But no ghost
ola former love haunted her now. In
stead. her infatuation for Pedro burned
higher every moment. She must find
some method of attaching him and Of
assuring their meeting frequently, so
that she might have opportunity grad