a mind to be easily
disturbed by such things, and she was not naturally of a superstitious
nature. She tried to shake off the feeling, but all in vain. What was
the cause of it? she asked herself over and over again.

That waltz was the longest she had ever experienced; and most thankful
was she when Sammie at last led her off the floor. As she was about to
sit down she happened to glance to her right, and as she did so her
eyes met those of a man standing not far away. Intuitively she
realised that there was the source of her strange agitation. It was
only for an instant that their eyes met, but it was long enough for
Lois to realise that some subtle influence had come upon her which
would affect her whole life.

With as much composure as possible she resumed her seat. She longed to
be alone that she might think it all over, and endeavour to cast off
the spell which was depressing her. She tried to reason it out, but
her thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Dingle who stood suddenly before
her.

"Lois, dear," she heard her say, "I want you to meet my famous guest,
Mr. Sydney Bramshaw, the noted English artist, who has favoured us with
his presence to-night. I have been waiting this opportunity ever since
you arrived, but could not get you and Sammie separated long enough to
do so until now."

These closing words annoyed Lois and she longed more than ever to leave
the room, especially so when Bramshaw sat down by her side and began to
talk to her in a familiar manner.

"I wanted to meet you as soon as I saw you enter the room," he told
her, "and I almost despaired of obtaining an opportunity."

"Why should you be so anxious to meet me?" Lois replied. "I am sure
that I have done nothing to merit your special attention."

"Oh, but you are so decidedly superior to the rest, don't you know. I
am somewhat gifted with a discerning mind, and am able at a glance to
tell the gold from the dross."

If Bramshaw imagined that his companion was susceptible to such
flattery he was greatly mistaken. His words disgusted Lois, and yet
she must remember that he was Mrs. Dingle's guest and that she must be
agreeable as far as it was possible.

"You are an artist, so I understand," she replied.

"Yes, in a way. I am fond of observing the beautiful in the common
things of Nature, and placing them upon canvas. So many go through
life with their eyes shut. They have eyes but do not see. With me it
is different, and b