"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?" asked Evelyn, coming suddenly behind
us. "Papa and Mr. Bainrothe are carrying on a little quiet flirtation,
as usual, and have quite turned their backs on me, so I came hither,
asking charity. I declare, Miriam's face is scarlet! What mischief are
you two hatching?"

"I have been running on at a most unconscionable rate," I replied,
"covering up my ignorance with many questions that have bored, rather
than proved, Mr. Bainrothe, I fear. Take up the dialogue, dear Evelyn,
for a few moments, while I go to superintend that elderly flirtation
you speak of, and keep papa in order," and I left them abruptly.

"It will all be paid in before then," I heard Mr. Bainrothe say, as I
approached them, "and you could not have a safer investment. It is as
sound as the Federal Government itself. Indestructible as the solar