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caught frequent glimpses of her； now whirling through a waltz in
the parlor； now talking and laughing in a rather pronounced way from
the midst of a group of gentlemen； and again coquettishly stealing
off with one of them through the moonlit walks。 Her manner； whether
assumed or real； was that of extravagant gaiety。 Occasionally she
seemed to glance towards their obscure corner； but neither she nor
her mother came to seek the man who had been toiling all the week
to maintain their idle luxury。
As Mrs。 Mayhew and her daughter were preparing for dinner on the
following day； Mr。 Mayhew entered with a brisker step than usual。
〃Why； father； where have you been？〃 Ida asked； surprised by the
fact that he had not been drinking and dozing in his room all the
morning。
〃I have been shown a glimpse of something that I have not seen for
many years。〃
〃Indeed； and what is that？〃
〃Beauty that seemed beautiful。〃
〃That's a compliment to us；〃 remarked Mrs。 Mayhew； acidly。
〃I mean the kind of beauty which does one good and makes a man wish
that he were a man。〃
〃Do you mean an unmarried man？〃 said his wife with a discordant
laugh。
〃Probably your own wishes suggested that speech； madam；〃 replied
the husband； bitterly。
〃And pray； where did you find so much beauty？〃 said Mrs。 Mayhew；
ignoring his last remark。
〃On a breezy hill…side。 It's a kind of beauty； too； that one can
enjoy without paying numberless bills for its enhancement。 I refer
to that of the scenery。〃
〃Oh；〃 remarked Mrs。 Mayhew； indifferently； 〃it would have been
more to your credit if you had gone to church instead of tramping
around the fields。〃
〃I think the fields have done more for me than church for you。〃
〃Why so？〃 was the sharp response。
〃They have at least kept me from indulging in one bad habit。 I am
sober。〃
〃They do not keep you from making ill…natured remarks；〃 said Mrs。
Mayhew； sailing out of the room fully bedizened for the solemnity
of dinner。
〃You say you were 'shown' all this beauty；〃 remarked Ida； who was
giving the finishing touches to her toilet before a large mirror；
and by whom the frequent bickerings of her parents were scarcely
noted。 〃Who officiated as showman？〃
〃A man who understands the beauties of a landscape so well that he
could make them visible even to my dim eyes； and attractive to my
deadened and besotted nature。 I'd give all the world if I could
be young； strong； and hopeful like him； again。 It was good of
himyes； good of him； to try to cheer a stranger with pleasant
thoughts and sights。 I suppose you are acquainted with Mr。 Van
Berg； since he is a friend of Ik's？〃
〃No； I'm not；〃 was the sharp reply； 〃nor do I wish to be。〃
〃Why not？〃 asked Mr。 Mayhew in some surprise。
〃It's sufficient that I don't like him。〃
〃He's not your style； I suppose you mean to say？〃
〃Indeed he is not。〃
〃So much worse for your style； Ida。〃
She was sweeping petulantly from the room when her father added
with a depth of feeling very unlike his wonted apathy： 〃O； Ida； it
were better that all three of us had never been born than to live
as we do！ Your life and your mother's is froth； and mine is mud。
How I hated it all this bright June morning； as Mr。 Van Berg gave
me a glimpse into another and better world！〃
〃Do you mean to say that Mr。 Van Berg presumed to criticise my mode
of life？〃 Ida asked with a darkening face。
〃Oh； no； no！ How small and egotistical all your ideas are！ He
never mentioned you； and probably never thought of you。 He only
took a little pains that a tired and dispirited man might see and
feel the eternal beauty and freshness of nature； as one might give；
in passing； a cup of water to a traveller。〃
〃I don't see what reason you have for feeling and appearing so
forlornly； thus asking for sympathy from strangers； as it were；
and causing it to seem as if we were making a martyr of you。 As
for this artist； with his superior airs； I detest him。 He never
loses a chance to annoy and mortify me。 I've no doubt he hoped
you would come home and tell us； as you have； how much better he
was than…〃
〃There； there； quit that kind of talk or I'll be drunk in half
an hour。〃 said her father； harshly。 〃If you had the heart of a
woman； let alone that of a daughter； you would thank the man who
had unwittingly kept me from making a beast of myself for one day
at least。 Go down to your dinner； I'm in no mood for eating。〃
She went without a word； but with a more severe compunction of
conscience than she had ever felt before in her life。 Her father's
face and words smote her with a keen reproach； piercing the thick
armor of her vanity and selfishness。 She saw； for a moment； how
unnatural and unlovely she must appear to him； in spite of her
beauty； and the thought crossed her mind：
〃Mr。 Van Berg despises me because he sees me in the same light。
How I hate his cold； critical eyes！〃
Even at his far remove Van Berg could see that she was ill at
ease during the dinner hour。 There would be times of forced and
unnatural gayety； followed by a sudden cloud upon the brow and
an abstracted air； as if her thoughts had naught to do with the
chattering group around her。 It would also appear that her appetite
was flagging unusually； and once or twice he thought she darted an
angry look towards him。
As if something were burdening her mind； she at last left the table
hastily； before the others were through with their dessert。
As may be surmised； she sought her father's room。 Receiving no response
to her knock； she entered and saw at a glance the confirmation of
her fears。 Her father sat in an arm…chair with his head upon his
breast。 A brandy bottle stood on the table beside him。 At the
sound of her step he looked up for a moment with heavy eyes； and
mumbled：
〃He ain't of your style； is he？ Nor of mine； either。 Froth and
mud！〃
Ida gave a sudden stamp of rage and disgust； and whirled from the
room。
Van Berg happened to see her as she descended to the main hall…way；
and her face was so repulsive as to suggest to him the lines from
Shakespeare：
〃In nature there's no blemish； but the mind；
None can be called deformed； but the unkind；
Virtue is beauty； but the beauteousevil
Are empty trunks； o'er flourished by the devil。〃
That afternoon and evening her reckless levity and open coquetry
secured unfavorable comment not only from the artist； but from
others far more indifferent； whose attention she half compelled by
a manner that did not suggest spring violets。
Van Berg was disgusted。 He was less versed in human nature than
art； and did not recognize in the forced and obtrusive gayety the
effort to stifle the voice of an aroused conscience。 Even to her
blunted sense of right it seemed a hateful and disgraceful truth
that a stranger had helped her father towards