vortex, from which she occasionally glanced down at an open manual.
As Lansing's step sounded on the pavement, the young lady, turning, revealed herself as Miss Hicks.
"Ah—you like this too? It's several centuries out of your line, though, isn't it!" Nick asked as they shook hands.
She gazed at him gravely. "Why shouldn't one like things that are out of one's line?" she answered; and he agreed, with a laugh, that it was often an incentive.
She continued to fix her grave eyes on him, and after one or two remarks about the Tiepolos he perceived that she was feeling her way toward a subject of more personal interest.
"I'm glad to see you alone," she said at length, with an abruptness that might have seemed awkward had it not been so completely unconscious. She turned toward a cluster of straw chairs, and signed to Nick to seat himself beside her.
"I seldom do," she added, with the serious smile that made her heavy face almost handsome; and she went on, giving him no time to protest: "I wanted to speak to you—to explain about father's invitation to go with us to Persia and Turkestan."
"To explain?"
"Yes. You found the letter when you arrived here just after your marriage, didn't you? You must have thought it odd, our asking you just
