maneuvering in such a manner as to imperceptibly
draw nearer to the easel.

"And this," said he, suddenly extending his hand toward the cover, "is,
I presume, the gem of your studio?"

But Andre was by no means dull, and had divined Paul's intention,
and grasped the young man's outstretched hand just as it touched the
curtain.

"If I veil this picture," said he, "it is because I do not wish it to be
seen."

"Excuse me," answered Paul, trying to pass over the matter as a jest,
though in reality he was boiling over with rage at the manner and tone
of the painter, and considered his caution utterly ridiculous.

"At any rate," said he to himself, "I will lengthen out my visit, and
have a glimpse of the original instead of her picture;" and, with this
amiable resolution, he sat down by the artist's table, and commenced an
apparently interminable story, resolved not to attend to any hints his
friend might throw out, who was glancing at the clock with the utmost
anxiety, comparing it every now and then with his watch.

As Paul talked on, he saw close to him on the table the photograph of a
young lady, and, taking advantage of the artist's preoccupation, looked
at it.

"Pretty, very pretty!" remarked he.

At these words the painter flushed crimson, and snatching away the
photograph with some little degree of violence, thrust it between the
leaves of a book.

Andre was so evidently in a patina, that Paul rose to his feet, and for
a second or two the men looked into each other's eyes as two adversaries
do when about to engage in a mortal duel. They knew but little of
each other, and the same chance which had brought them together
might separate them again at any moment, but each felt that the other
exercised some influence over his life.

Andre was the first to recover himself.

"You must excuse me; but I was wrong to leave so precious an article
about."

Paul bowed with the air of a man who accepts an apology which he
considers his due; and Andre went on,--

"I very rarely receive any one except my friends; but to-day I have
broken through my rule."

Paul interrupted him with a magniloquent wave of the hand.

"Believe me, sir," said he, in a voice which he endeavoured to render
cutting and sarcastic, "had it not been for the imperative duty I before
alluded to, I should not have intruded."

And with these words he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

"The deuce take the impudent fool!" muttered A