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24. A little less than a minute, and I W'1S in a large parlor where, seated before a grand piano, were a young lady and a child, teacher- and pupil. r thought, with what patience did the lady direct the little fingers over the keyboard. Her pose seemed familiar to me, and going up to her, I touched her on the arm. Yes,as I lived, it was Marie Senseney, the same Marie, not a bit changed. I told her to finish the lesson and I would wait. She did so, and we left house together. I told her I was a little surprised to see her in the capacity of music teacher. Although a splendid performer, I had not thought of Maric in that way. She said she had, after having left the instruction of Professor Sampat», rather stormy some- times, gone to the Peabody Institute. She had graduated frOI11that institution and was now teaching for pleasure rather than for support. She seemed thoroughly in love with her work, and she even tried to make me believe, 1110rein love with it than with-which one was it now? I asked her. She looked awfully conscious, and telling her to be sure to send me a "come to the church," 1 was carried by Mer- pheus across the sea 25. To Paris, at the Louvre, which, as everyone knows, is the finest art gallery in the world. A great exhi- bition was going on there, ancl the ar-tist who had presented the finest work was to receivea prize of a thousand dollars. I, of course, was more interested in the paintings than in the artists, and they were, indeed, mag. nificent. It would be impossible to describe the many pictures which T saw; but one especially caught my attention and held it. A picture similar to that of Raphael's, which now hangs in the Vatican Art Gallery, the "Tr-ansfigurn.tiou." An old theme, certainly, but so handsomely done that one forgot its oldness. The picture having been decided upon, the number was called, and it seemed that my judg- ment had been also that of the judges. for this picture was called out as that v..rhich had WOI1, and the artist was told to step up. Did my eyes see aright? There, life.likeenough, walked Mr. John Edwards. He gravely received his prize, and as gravely turned to go. This opportunity was too excellent to be missed, and so eagerly I stepped up to him and with difficulty, after a few minutes, made myself known (artists have exasperatingly bad memories). After a few strenuous efforts I got the information I desired. - - 92 - -