began between him and Strong, who declared that he had a better piece.

"Mine was given me by a Daimio, in Kiusiu," said Strong. "It is the best
old bit you ever saw. Come round to my rooms a week from to-morrow at
five o'clock in the afternoon, and I will show you all my new japs. The
Dudleys are coming to see them, and my aunt Mrs. Murray, and Hazard has
promised to come."

"I saw you had Miss Dudley with you at church this morning," said
Wharton, still absorbed in study of his enamel, and quite unconscious of
his host's evident restlessness.

"Ah! then you could see Miss Dudley!" cried the clergyman, who could not
forgive the abrupt dismissal of his own affairs by the two men, and was
eager to bring the talk back to his church.

"I can always see Miss Dudley," said Wharton quietly.

"Why?" asked Hazard.

"She is interesting," replied the painter. "She has a style of her own,
and I never can quite make up my mind whether to like it or not."

"It is the first time I ever knew you to hesitate before a style," said
Hazard.

"I hesitate before every thing American," replied Wharton, beginning to
show a shade of interest in what he was talking of. "I don't know--you
don't know--and I never yet met any man who could tell me, whether
American types are going to supplant the old ones, or whether they are