THE AMERICAN
gratitude for his liberality in the neatest of little speeches. It annoyed him to have so charming a girl stand there thanking him, and it made him feel uncomfortable to think that this perfect young lady, with her excellent manners and her finished intonation, was literally in his pay. He assured her, in such French as he could muster, that the thing was not worth mentioning and that he regarded her services as a particular favour.
"Whenever you please then," she said, "we'll pass the review."
They walked slowly round the room and then into the others; they strolled about with high dignity for half an hour. His companion evidently relished her situation and had no desire to bring to a close her public interview with a patron of such striking type. Newman perceived that prosperity agreed with her and that the little firm-lipped, peremptory air with which she had addressed her father on the occasion of their former meeting had given place to the prettiest, easiest prattle.
"What sort of pictures have you in mind?" she asked. "Sacred or profane?"
"Oh, a few of each. But I want something bright and gay."
"Something gay? There's nothing very gay in this solemn old Louvre. But we'll see what we can find. You speak French to-day like a charm. My father has done wonders."
"Oh, I'm a thankless subject," said Newman. "I'm too old to learn a language."
"Too old? Quelle folie!" she cried with a clear,
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