things to the Salon d'Automne—little pictures analysing a thought of Verlaine's about windows; that was all. When I found the Parisian critics were taking them seriously, I almost fainted away!" And the glance of the painter immediately imitated the glance of the poet, darting sidelong to the lady at the card table.
The appearance of the two adults, Albert Jones and George Wilmer Macklyn, bore no resemblance to that of little children; and yet, somewhat to the irritation of the gentlemen observing them, each of them was so ingenuous as to wear precisely the air of a child who hopes he has said something important and looks quickly to Mamma to see how favourably it has affected her. Unmistakably, they were offering little exhibitions before the unknown lady; and Ogle was annoyed to think that she might perceive that they were doing so and associate him in her mind with blunderers so naïve. She looked clever enough to comprehend performances for her benefit much more subtle than these; and he decided to detach himself in her thoughts from the two performers.
"Oh, I don't know," he said, and, without realizing that he might himself be performing a little, he
