ssary.

'Neither black nor white,'--she said oracularly, 'neither
yellow nor blue; neither pea-green nor delicate mouse grey.'

'I?' said Stuart. 'Or what?'

'Either. Both.'

The janissary laughed somewhat uneasily. Just then a knight,
extremely well got up in the habiliments of the 13th century,
stepped near and accosted the witch in a confidential tone.

'Everybody here, I suppose, is known to you. Pray who is that
very handsome, very _decolletee_, lady from the court of Charles
the Second? Upon my word! she does it well.'

'That is Miss Fisher.'

'Well, if women knew!'--said the knight slowly. It was evident
he thought himself speaking to safe ears, probably not
handsome enough to be displayed. 'If they knew!' he repeated.
'Does she not do it well?'

'Does she?' said the witch. 'I was not in England just then.'

'Don't you wish you had been! It's a very fair show,'--
continued the knight as he looked. 'We ought to be much
obliged to the lady. Really, she leaves--nothing--to be desired!
If you please, merely as a subject of curiosity, from what
part of the world and time does yonder figure come? the broad-
brimmed hat?'

The figure was a very fine one, by the way. His dress was a
quaintly-cut suit of dark blue cloth, the edges bound with
crimson, and fastened with silver buttons. White fine thread
stockings were tied at the knee with crimson riband, and
silver buckles were in his shoes.

'You must know,' said the witch, 'that there are several parts
of the world from which I have been banished.'

'In an aesthetic point of view, I should say the edict was
justified,' returned the knight, surveying the bale of brown
serge before him. He passed on, and the man in the blue cloth
presently took his place.

'They tell me you are a witch,' said he, speaking in rather a
low tone; 'and as you see, I am a countryman. Will you have
the goodness to explain to me--I suppose you understand it--what
all the these people are?'

'They are people who for the present find their happiness in
being other people,' said the witch, with a grave voice, in
which however a laugh was somewhat imperfectly muffled. 'Like
yourself, sir.'

'Like me? Quite the contrary. I was never more myself, I
assure you. For that very reason I find myself not at home.
Excuse my curiosity. Why, if you please, do they seek their
happiness out of themselves, as it were, in this way?'

'Well,' said the witch confidentially, 'to tell you the t