Stella Rosevelt — page 147: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“LET ME DEPICT YOUR FUTURE.” 141 ‘“Vou did not need to do that, Starling. Iam as eager asa schoolboy for my day of pleasure,” he returned, with a fond smile, adding: ‘‘But how dainty you are this morning. I shouldn’t wonder if our artist friend would be wanting to paint the picture of a ‘star’ one of thesé days, eh?” Star blushed and laughed lightly. She could have told him, had she chosen, that it was already painted. But she only charged him playfully to make himself look as young and charming as possible if he intended to be her escort to Coney Island; then waving him a farewell, she tripped away with a smile on ker lips, a song in her heart. He stood and watched her out of sight, murmuring, with something like regretful fondness : ‘‘My bright Star, somebcdy will want something more sub- stantial than a painting if you are one-half as attractive in his_ eyes aS you are in mine.” The little German professor of whom Star took music lessons rubbed his small fat hands with delight, his face dimpling all over with smiles, when she came like a ray of light into his room. ‘Ach! but der fraulein should have been called Miss Glad- heart,” he said, regarding her admiringly. ‘‘She is as bright as der day, as fair as der morn; she is like a flower dot is newly bloomed.” Star laughed merrily. It seemed ludicrous enough to her to hear this fat little man, with his bald pate, his red face, dumpy legs, and his broken. _English—who scarce ever was known to express a thought that was not connected with music before—bubble over thus unex- pectedly with sentiment. ‘‘Qh, Professor Schwab, you overwhelm me!” she cried, gavly; ‘‘and I’m almost certain that your compliments will degenerate into a yeritable scolding before I have been here =) (€(0) (El ooo) KS,(E00)