CHAPTER V.

For love lay lurking in the clouds and mist, I heard him singing sweetly on the mountain side: "'Tis all in vain you fly, for everywhere am I-- In every quiet valley, on every mountain side!" In the clear, bird-like tones of Stella's voice the musical words floated from the open window of her room above and through the open French windows of the old man's studio. With a little start he turned his head away from the easel and looked toward the door. Stella had only been in the house three days, b…