nexpected
call from a newspaper reporter. He had learned from an art dealer that
we had some remarkable old paintings, and humbly begged the privilege of
looking at them. We made him welcome, of course, but I explained to him
that the collection was wholly the work of my cousin, who was not yet
old himself. In answer to his questions I assured him that the paintings
would not be exhibited in the National Academy, and that my cousin's
work had never appeared in any art exhibition whatever, at which he
seemed greatly surprised. Rayel was still shy of strangers, and, as
he was evidently a little annoyed at the presence of our visitor, I
shielded him from the need of taking any part in our conversation.

The next morning an article appeared in one of the leading dailies,
which subjected us to a glare of publicity not at all to our taste.

It went on to say that Signor Lanion, a young Spanish artist, had
just arrived in New York and had taken apartments at No. Fifth
Avenue. "Lanion" was the name which had appeared on our bill for
picture-framing, the clerk who had waited on us having taken it down
incorrectly. "Unfortunately," the article continued, "Signor Lanion
does not speak English, and for that reason the reporter was unable to
interview him."

The paper described Rayel's personal charms at much length, and claimed
the credit of having discovered a genius who, although still a youth,
had done work worthy of an acknowledged master.

We had deep respect for the influence of that newspaper before another
week ended. Art managers, tailors, advertising agents, auctioneers
and numerous men and women prompted by no motive but idle curiosity,
besieged us until we bolted our doors in dismay against all comers. The
mail, too, brought us missives of varying import from persons who
had read the article, one of which was a polite letter from Francis
Paddington, a Wall Street broker, whose name I had heard frequently
during my American travels.

"It was not stated," said he, referring to the newspaper article,
"whether or not any of Signor Lanion's paintings are for sale. If
they are, I would be glad to look at them with a view to making some
purchases for my art collection."

The letter suggested an idea worth considering. Rayel worked rapidly and
had already painted more pictures than we could hang to advantage in any
but the most liberal quarters. He was at a loss to understand just what
was meant by selling the pictures,