Bertram Cope's Year

by Henry Blake Fuller

"And here he is again? And here? And here?"—shuffling still another picture into view.

"Yes."

"He's fond of costume, isn't he?"

"Very versatile," returned Cope, lightly and briefly. "Clothes to correspond."

Mrs. Phillips began to peer again at the picture of the choir-group.
"Isn't he here too?"

"Yes. With the first tenors. There you have him,—third from the left, just behind that row of little devils in surplices."

"You and he sing together?"

"Sometimes—when we are together."

"'Larboard Watch' and 'Suona la Tromba' and——?"

"Oh, heavens!" said Cope. He threw up his head quite spiritedly. There was now more color in his cheeks, more sparkle in his eyes, more vibration in his voice. Amy looked at him with a vanishing pity and a growing admiration.