The Spectator., 1914-12-11
CHAPTER Ix-Contlnued.

A1li sees ftCWe uueXpeCteuly dtlACkeo Oy Old Nita, and rescues her.
 CHAPTER Ix-Contlnued.
 Madonna, beg that we talk of something else than myself" he con- tinued. These pictures of De Bush's g 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! It seemed as though he feared 1t above everything. and detecting the approach of an intimate note. changed the theme at once.
 T have . curious sketch of Leigh's with me-" he said, changing the sub ject 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 if he would only talk. But though I have known him. en passant, for years, 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- frt1 ;c among men! great mind; sincere artist. One night not long ago we were talking about form in music, and he told me that he had caught nature herself demonstrating their intimate kinship. Listen-he saw the Pocantico 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; a trifie slight. possibly; but what won- derful hair he had. that curled little. An. he had found the paper!
 Together they were leaning over 1t as he spread it upon the tablecloth. when sharp exclamation from across the room caused them to look up hastily. In the doorway stood Reginald Vanderpool. his aristocratic clean shaven 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 impassive, 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"
 T suppose l 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 note, caused diversion, and as he put the envelope into his pocket. Vanderpool arose. although he had scarcely eaten anything.
 Sorry, but I 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 it and sat themselves upon the sofa where Hill and she had quarreled. But no ghost of 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. 50 that she might have opportunity grad.