yes, which met the
gazer calmly; and there was about him that air of self-reliance which
does not irritate in a large strong man, any more than imperiousness in
a beautiful woman.

The person with brown eyes proved to be Mr. Heathcote. He seemed
indolent, and contributed but few words to the general treasury of
conversation.

Mr. Blum was present also; but on this occasion he wore the peculiarly
new, shining, patent-leather boots dear to the hearts of his countrymen
on festal occasions, and Miss Teller's anxieties were quiescent. Helen
liked artists; she said that their ways were a "proud assertion that a
ray of beauty outvalued all the mere utilities of the world."

"Are bad boots rays of beauty?" inquired Miss Margaretta.

"Yes. That is, a man whose soul is uplifted by art may not always
remember his boots; to himself, no doubt, his feet seem winged."

"Very far from winged are Blum's feet," responded Miss Margaretta,
shaking her head gravely. "Very, very far."

Late in the evening, when almost all the guests had departed, Helen
seemed seized with a sudden determination to bring Anne into
prominence. Mr. Dexter still lingered, and the artist. Also Ward
Heathcote.

"Anne, will you sing now? First with me, then alone?" she said, going to
the piano.

A bright flush rose in Anne's face; the prominent blue eyes of the
German artist were fixed upon her; Gregory Dexter had turned toward her
with his usual prompt attention. Even the indolent Heathcote looked up
as Helen spoke. But having once decided to do a thing, Anne knew no way
save to do it; having accepted Helen's generous kindness, she must now
do what Helen asked in return. She rose in silence, and crossed the
brightly lighted room on her way to the piano. Few women walk well; by
well, is meant naturally. Helen was graceful; she had the lithe shape
and long step which give a peculiar swaying grace, like that of elm
branches. Yet Helen's walk belonged to the drawing-room, or at best the
city pavement; one could not imagine her on a country road. Anne's gait
was different. As she crossed the room alone, it drew upon her for the
first time the full attention of the three gentlemen who were present.
Blum stared gravely. Dexter's eyes moved up to her face, as if he saw it
now with new interest. Heathcote leaned back on the sofa with an amused
expression, glancing from Anne to Helen, as if saying, "I understand."

Anne wore one of Helen's gifts, a soft silk of pa