CHAPTER XXVI.
AN EVENING CALL.
But Peter's social gadding did not end with these bread-and-butter calls.

One afternoon in March, he went into the shop of a famous picture-dealer, to look over an exhibition then advertised, and had nearly finished his patient examination of each picture, which always involved quite as much mental gymnastics as aesthetic pleasure to Peter, when he heard a pleasant: "How do you do, Mr.Stirling ?" Turning, he found Miss De Voe and a well-dressed man at his elbow.
Peter's face lighted up in a way which made the lady say to herself: "I wonder why he wouldn't buy another ticket ?" Aloud she said, "I want you to know another of my cousins.

Mr.Ogden, Mr.Stirling." "Charmed," said Mr.Ogden genially.

Any expression which Peter had thought of using seemed so absolutely lame, beside this passive participle, that he merely bowed.
"I did not know you cared for pictures," said Miss De Voe.
"I see most of the public exhibitions," Peter told her.

"I try to like them." Miss De Voe looked puzzled.
"Don't," said Mr.Ogden.