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 had been corrected by a characteristic attitude, and the whole absurdly beautiful effect was saved from any element of pretentiousness by the generous, frank, half tender, half vulgar smile that illuminated the features.

Grover congratulated Floss and the painter. The latter turned to Olga with a curious smile. "I suspect you of not liking it," he said.

"You are right, Monsieur."

"May one ask why?"

"Because you have painted the princess that all Paris knows,—the princess whom all the newspapers celebrate. At the Grand Salon Paris will recognize her and crow with delight. But if I had been the painter I would have painted the real princess or nothing. I would have put in less silk and gaiety and more of the good heart and good judgment that in real life make that particular smile possible. All you've done, the beauty shops and dressmakers could have done."

This intrepid girl, laconically putting her finger on what they all had failed to formulate!

Peñaverde was laughing blandly. "Et vous, Monsieur?" he inquired of the prince.

"I think it very clever. It's bound to make a sensation in Chicago!"

Another score, reflected Grover in triumph.

"Show us some more pictures," Floss was saying, a little disturbed by something they were all leaving unsaid.

Don Armando subtly made it apparent that he was