Van Berg's sympathies and interest at last became so strong that he determined to speak to her at once,but before he could take a step towards her the orchestra began playing Beethoven's Fifth Symphony,the very music she ignored for the sake of Mr.Minty's compliments when first she had so exasperated him by her marvellously perfect features,but disagreeable face.He had not looked at the programme,and that this symphony should now be repeated seemed such a fortunate coincidence that he could not resist the temptation of contrasting the woman before him with the silly and undeveloped girl he first had seen.Moreover,he knew that the music must remind her of him,and he might gain a hint of her present feelings toward him.Either the beauty or something familiar in the exquisite strains soon caught her attention,and she took up her programme,which hitherto had lain neglected on her lap.She crimsoned instantly,and her brow contracted into a frown;a moment later an expression of intense disgust passed over her face.
"Now I know what she thinks of me,"he thought with a sinking heart."I doubt whether I had better speak to her this evening,and at this place.""What's the matter,Ida?"asked her father."Don't you like the music?""I have disagreeable associations connected with it.The fault is wholly in me,and not the music.""Ida,darling,you are making me so happy that I wish I could do as much for you.""Don't worry,father,"she said,trying to smile."I'm happier than I deserve.Listen!"As the last exquisite cadences died away,Van Berg saw that there were tears in her eyes.What did they mean?"Stanton repeated my harsh words and she recalls them,"was the best explanation he could think of."By the fates!"he exclaimed,"if there isn't Sibley with a toilet as spotless as he is himself smirched and blackened.
Curse him!he actually has the impudence to speak to Miss Mayhew,"and the artist started up threateningly,but before discovering himself,he remembered that Ida's natural protector was at her side.And yet he fairly trembled with rage and protest,that this fellow should be so near her again.He also saw that Mr.Mayhew rose and looked very menacing.But Ida was equal to the emergency,and extricated herself with womanly dignity,for while she blushed scarlet with shame,she was quiet and self-possessed,and paid no heed to his eagerly proffered hand.
"I was not myself that hateful day,Miss Ida,"he said hastily.
"I fear you were,sir,"she coldly replied."At any rate,I am not my old self,and until you win and maintain the character of a gentleman,we must be strangers.Good evening,sir;"and she turned her back upon him.
His face became fairly livid with rage,but on encountering the stern and threatening eyes of Mr.Mayhew he slunk away and left the building.
"That's my peerless,noble Ida,"whispered her father."Oh thank God!thank God!I could not have survived if you had realized the fears I once had about that low scoundrel."Ida's lip quivered as she said,"Father,please take me home.Idon't enjoy myself here."They had taken but a few steps toward the door when the artist confronted them with eyes aglow with admiration and sympathy.
Poor Ida had no time to mask her feelings or check her impulses,and she took his extended hand as if she were sinking,while the color and light of welcome flashed brightly into her face.Then her beautiful confusion suggested that she felt her greeting had been too cordial,and she sought with indifferent success to regain her dignity.
"Please don't go just yet,"said Van Berg eagerly."The concert is but half over,and there are some pretty things still to come."Ida hesitated and looked doubtfully at her father.
"I shall be very glad to stay,"he said with a smile,"if you feel able to.My daughter is not very well,I fear,"he added in explanation to the artist.
"Perhaps it has been a little close here in the lobby,"suggested Van Berg,"and a walk in the open air will be agreeable.If you will trust your daughter to me,sir,I promise to bring her back before she is tired.I have much to tell her about her old friend,Mr.Eltinge,whom I visited yesterday,and the pictures.Perhaps you will go with us,for I know what I have to say will interest you also.""I think I'll light another cigar and wait for you here,"Mr.Mayhew answered quietly."Old people like to sit still after their day's work,and if Ida feels strong enough I would enjoy hearing the rest of the concert.""It would be hard to resist the temptation to hear anything about dear old Mr.Eltinge,"said Ida,taking the artist's arm,and feeling as if she were being swept away on a shining tide.
"You WERE glad to see me,Miss Mayhew,and you can't deny it,"Van Berg began exultantly.
"You almost crushed my hand,and it aches still,"was her demure reply.
"Well,that was surely the wound of a friend.""You are very good to speak to me at all,after all that's happened,"she said in a low tone and with downcast face.
"What a strange coincidence!That is exactly what I was thinking of you.I almost feared you would treat me as you did Sibley.How much good it did me to see him slinking away like a whipped cur!Inever realized before how perfectly helpless even brazen villainy is in the presence of womanly dignity.""Why,were you present then?"she asked,with a quick blush.
