she said.

They sat down near a bank of gardenias, and Amaldi fanned her with her
fan of white peacock feathers.

"You're not afraid to use peacock's feathers?" he asked, smiling. "In
Italy we are superstitious about them."

She answered, smiling also: "I have my full share of superstition, but
not about things like that. Are you really afraid of peacock's
feathers?"

"No; but my mother wouldn't have one near her for worlds. She says that
she has added all the Italian superstitions to the American ones."

"Is your mother an American?" said Sophy, surprised and pleased at this
idea. If Amaldi's mother was an American, that would account in a great
measure, she thought, for her feeling towards him--that odd feeling of
having known him before.

"Yes," Amaldi was saying. "I am half American through my mother. She was
a Miss Brainton."

"I am an American," said Sophy; "a Virginian. My name was Sophy
Taliaferro. And that's odd"--she broke off, realising that her maiden
name was probably of Italian origin--"because, though it's pronounced
'Tolliver,' it's spelt 'Taliaferro.' I never really thought of it
before--but the first Taliaferro must have been an Italian!"

"Why, yes," said Amaldi eagerly, "There is a Tagliaferro family in
Italy."

"So you're half American and I'm half Italian," she went on, looking at
him pleasedly out of her candid eyes. "Such coincidences _are_ strange,
aren't they?"

"They're very delightful," said Amaldi, in a voice as frank as her look.
He was thinking: "You are the woman I have imagined all my life. It
seems very wonderful that you should have Italian blood."

Sophy liked this frank voice of his and the clear look in his eyes so
much that she gave way to impulse.

"It seems to me," she said with the smile that he was beginning to watch
for, "that Fate means us to become friends."

Amaldi thought: "And there is something of the child in you that makes
me worship."

He said a little formally, but with feeling:

"I should consider that the greatest honour that could come to me." Then
he added, also under impulse: "Since you're so kind, I'd like to confess
something. May I?"

"Yes--do!" said Sophy, still smiling.

"It is this: When Varesca introduced me to you this evening, I had the
feeling of having known you before. Strange, wasn't it?"

She was looking at him, her lips parted. She hesitated an instant, then
said:

"It was even stranger than you know--because I, too, had