anything so
conventional. This was against him in Nan's eyes, for she was a
stickler for the formalities. But as he threw back his topcoat, and
she saw his voluminous soft silk tie of magenta with vermilion dots,
his low rolling collar, and his longish mane of hair, she felt an
instinctive dislike to the man. Her sense of justice, however, made
her reserve judgment until she knew more of him, and she invited him to
tarry a few moments.

Blaney sat down, gracefully enough, and chatted casually, but Patty
realised that Nan was looking him over and resented it. And, somehow,
Blaney didn't appear to advantage in the Fairfield drawing-room, as he
did in his own surroundings. His attitude, while polite, was the least
bit careless, and his courtesy was indolent rather than alert. In
fact, he conducted himself as an old friend might have done, but in a
way which was not permissible in a stranger.

Nan led the conversation to the recent work of some comparatively new
and very worthwhile poets. She asked Blaney his opinion of a certain
poem.

"Oh, that," and the man hesitated, "well, you see,--I--ah,--that is,
I'm reserving my opinion as to that man's work,--yes, reserving my
opinion."

"And a good idea, too," agreed Nan. "One shouldn't judge, hastily.
But you've doubtless made up your mind regarding this poet," and she
picked up a book from the table, containing the poems of another modern
and much discussed writer.

"Oh, yes," said Blaney, "oh, yes, of course. But, if you'll excuse me,
Mrs. Fairfield, I'd rather not announce my views. You see, I--er--that
is,--I might be quoted wrongly,--misquoted, you know, and it would
militate against my influence,--yes,--militate against my standing.
One must be so careful."

"Indeed you are right," Nan said, smiling at him; "a poet yourself, you
must be careful of what you say about others."

"Yes, just that. How quickly you understand."

Patty and her escort went away, and after a short silence, Blaney said,
"You didn't show Mrs. Fairfield the verses I wrote for you, did you?"

"No," said Patty, "I promised you I wouldn't."

"And I didn't mean to doubt your word, but I thought you might think
that your mother--or stepmother, didn't count."

"No, I haven't shown them to any one. But I wish you weren't so
sensitive about your beautiful work."

"I wish so, too," and Blaney sighed. "But it's the penalty of----"

"Of genius, why not say it?"

"Yes, why not say i