"If I may be permitted to be so bold as to speak--express an opinion--I should beg leave to say that Miss Ludolph favors herself--more favored--is better-looking," he blurted out at last, backing out of the door at the same time, with his brow bathed in perspiration from the throes of this great and unwonted effort at gallantry. "Bah!" said Dennis to himself, "the old mole left out the very chief thing in tracing the likeness--the expression! See her now as she listens to his awkward attempt at compliment. She is looking at him with the same scornful, laughing face that the girl in the picture wears toward the bungling admirer at her feet. He is right in one thing though, she is better-looking." But the moment Mr. Schwartz's bulky figure vanished from the doorway, Miss Ludolph caught the critical, intelligent gaze of Dennis Fleet, and the expression of her face changed instantly to a frown. But, to do her justice, it was more in vexation with herself than with him. Her innate delicacy of feeling showed her that it looked like small vanity to be standing there while comparisons like the above were instituted. Her manner at once became cold, observant, and thoroughly self-possessed. She stepped out into the store, and by a few keen, critical glances seemed to take in its whole effect. Again disapprobation clouded her fair brow, and she pronounced audibly but one word--"Stiff." Then she passed into her father's private office. CHAPTER XII BLUE BLOOD Dennis's mind was a chaos of conflicting feelings. The picture had deeply interested him, and so did the beautiful girl that it by strange coincidence so strongly resembled. It could not be otherwise with one of his beauty-loving nature. And yet the impression made by the face in the painting--of something wrong, discordant--was felt more decidedly in respect to the living face. But before he had time to realize what had just passed the lady and her father appeared at the door of the office, and he heard the latter say: "I know you are right, my dear. It's all wrong. The arrangement of the store is as stiff and methodical as if we were engaged in selling mathematical instruments. But I have not time to attend to the matter, and there is not one in the store that has the least idea of artistic combination, unless it is Fleet. I have noticed some encouraging symptoms in him." "What! he of the duster and mop? I fear our case is desperate, then, if he is our best hope." Dennis's cheeks were burning again; but, turning his back, he rubbed away harder than ever at a Greek god that he was polishing. But they gave him no thought. Speaking with a sudden animation the young lady said, "Father, I have a great mind to try it myself--that is, if you are willing." "But, my daughter, I could not permit you to be engaged in any such employment before our customers."