a little while before, angela blue at eugene's earnest solicitation had paid her first fall visit to chicago. she had made a special effort to come, lured by a certain poignancy of expression which he could give to any thought, particularly when it concerned his desires. in addition to the art of drawing he had the gift of writing—very slow in its development from a structural and interpretative point of view, but powerful already on its descriptive side. he could describe anything, people, houses, horses, dogs, landscapes, much as he could draw them and give a sense of tenderness and pathos in the bargain which was moving. he could describe city scenes and the personal atmosphere which surrounded him in the most alluring fashion. he had little time to write, but he took it in this instance to tell this girl what he was doing and how he was doing it. she was captivated by the quality of the world in which he was moving, and the distinction of his own personality, which he indicated rather indirectly than otherwise. by contrast her own little world began to look very shabby indeed.

she came shortly after his art school opened, and at her invitation he went out to the residence of her aunt on the north side, a nice, pleasant brick house in a quiet side street, which had all the airs of middle class peace and comfort. he was impressed with what seemed to him a sweet, conservative atmosphere—a fitting domicile for a girl so dainty and refined as angela. he paid his respects early saturday morning because her neighborhood happened to be in the direction of his work.

she played for him—better than anyone he had ever known. it seemed to him a great accomplishment. her temperament attracted her to music of a high emotional order and to songs and instrumental compositions of indefinable sweetness. in the half hour he stayed she played several things, and he noted with a new pleasure her small shapely body in a dress of a very simple, close fitting design; her hair hung in two great braids far below her waist. she reminded him the least bit of marguerite in "faust."