In Friendship's Guise

that overlooked Ravenscourt Park. The lord and master of it was writing business letters, a task in which he was assisted by frequent cigarett

meeting at Strand-on-the-Green, to say that he was coming out at eight o'clock that night to ha

his letter writing. "I'll keep him here a couple of hours, and then take him to dine in town. H

ped leather hid three sides of the French stove. The eye met a picturesque confusion of inlaid cabinets with innumerable drawers, oak chests and benches, easy chairs of every sort, Chippendale trays and escritoires, Spanish lanterns dangling from overhead, old tables worn hollow on top with age, countless weapons and pieces of armor, and shelves stacked with blue delf china and rows of pewt

f coals in the grate-he used his stove only in wintry weather. He pulled a big chair to the blaze, stretched his legs against the fende

elieve that she cares for me, and yet-and yet-By Jove, I would marry her in a minute. She is the most winsome girl I ever saw. It is not like the passion I had for Diane-I was a foolish, hot-headed boy then. Madge would be my good a

d the fire. He, the impregnable and boastful one, the woman-hater, had fallen a victim when he believed himsel

-on-the-Green, confident that the girl would not be far away, that she would welcome him shyly and blushingly, with that radiant light in her eyes which he hoped

ck, his conscience gave him few twinges in regard to these surreptitious meetings. It would be different, he told himself, had Stephen Foster chosen to receive him as a visitor. But he had gathered, from what Madge told him, that her father was eccentric, and detested visitors-that he would permit nothing to

or life is well enough in its way, but it can't compare with a snug house, and one's own dining-table, and a charming wife to drive away

rupted Jack's train of though

ried, expecting

ring the familiar brown envelope. Jack s

l wired. "Sorry I can't get o

of minutes. "I hope nothing serious is the matter with Nevill," he reflected. "He's not the sort of a chap to go to bed unless

out in the passage, followed by the

at be?" Jac

fact. He was very tall and well-built, with a handsome face, so deeply tanned as to suggest a recent residence in a tropical country. His mustaches were twisted into waxed points, and there was a good deal of gray in his beard, which was parted German fashio

the artist?" he asked in good

that's

Monsieur J

ith a start of surprise; he was ill-p

earing the name of M. Felix M

u," said Jack. "Wil

light-I confess myself a humble patron of art-and a few years ago I purchased several water-color sketches signed by your name. They appealed to me es

ack. "They, with others, were sol

I went again to seek more-that was eighteen months later, when I returned to Paris after a long absence. Imagine my dis

Italy," said Jack. "But perhaps-pardon me-you wou

ll understand that I desire, while in England, to imp

u speak it already like a nati

d that the English spring was mild; in Paris I found the weather too cold for my chest complaint. So I said to myself, 'I will make endeavor to find the artist, John Clare.' But how? I had an idea. I went to the school of the great Julian, and there my inquiries met with success. 'M

Who at Julian's can have known

sired to explain clearly. I have come on business, monsieur, hoping that I ma

e nothing whatever to sell at present. I am ind

ur has

hook h

plained. "The half-finished water-colors on the easels are orders

the studio, and his eyes still wandered from wall to wall. "Ah, monsieur, I have a thought," he added suddenly. "It is of the finished pictures, of your la

ches. But he was growing uncomfortably hungry, and felt disposed to m

my collection," h

exhibiting a number of large water-color drawings on bristol-board, most of them belonging to his student days in Paris, some made in Holla

an unstiffened canvas which he had found. It was the duplicate Rembrandt painted for Martin Von Wh

ccount," he said. "It is

. "This is repulsive-it is a frightful face. Were it in my colle

d finally chose a couple of water-colors,

e," he said, "if monsieur i

ack announced reluctantly. "Can

l take the

operation that was closely watched by his visitor. Then he wr

hment?" he said, politely. "

hisky of England," p

ith a handkerchief. As he returned it to his pocket Jack saw on the

easure of seeing him again. Then he bowed ceremoniously, and was gone, carrying the parcel under

lp feeling a bit puzzled. Fancy his taking a craze for my studies of Paris! I remember that they gathered dust for months in old Cambon's window, until one day I missed them. It's a funny thing about that brown mark which c

ed, winter and summer. He had come home the night before by the last train, after din

e rolls and coffee, eggs and bacon. The sun was shining brightly outside. The postman came while he was at breakfast, and he read his batch of letters; from some of which dropped checks. One he purposely saved for the last, and the contents-only a f

r that poster; and a messenger may come from the Piccadilly Magazine-the drawings are in

mber," assur

iving in a big house in the Parc

eur is

eman by the name of Marc

lphonse answered, "but I do no

resided there then, and the Parc M

nd the beauty of the trees and flowers, told him that it was a glorious thing to be alive. He waited a few moments at a nearby livery stable, while

never looked more cheerful as Jack drove rapidly westward. He crossed Kew Bridge, rattled on briskly, and finally en

e up the steps to the street. Jack had eyes for one only, a radiant vision of loveliness, as sweet and fresh and blushing as a June rose. The vision was Madge Foster, her gra

think of me after this,"

ith envy if they could see you now," Jack answered evasively, as he flicked the hors