even days' rest. I will acknowledge that I chose this spot at the
instigation of a relative who knew my tastes and how perfectly they
might be gratified there. That I should mingle with the guests may not
have been in his thought, any more than it was in mine at the beginning
of my stay. The panorama of beauty spread out before me on every side
was sufficient in itself for my enjoyment, and might have continued
so to the end if my attention had not been very forcibly drawn on one
memorable morning to a young lady--Miss Challoner--by the very earnest
look she gave me as I was crossing the office from one verandah to
another. I must insist on this look, even if it shock the delicacy of my
listeners, for without the interest it awakened in me, I might not have
noticed the blush with which she turned aside to join her friends on the
verandah. It was an overwhelming blush which could not have sprung from
any slight embarrassment, and, though I hate the pretensions of those
egotists who see in a woman's smile more than it by right conveys, I
could not help being moved by this display of feeling in one so gifted
with every grace and attribute of the perfect woman. With less caution
than I usually display, I approached the desk where she had been
standing and, meeting the eyes of the clerk, asked the young lady's
name. He gave it, and waited for me to express the surprise he expected
it to evoke. But I felt none and showed none. Other feelings had seized
me. I had heard of this gracious woman from many sources, in my life
among the suffering masses of New York, and now that I had seen her and
found her to be not only my ideal of personal loveliness but seemingly
approachable and not uninterested in myself, I allowed my fancy to soar
and my heart to become touched. A fact which the clerk now confided to
me naturally deepened the impression. Miss Challoner had seen my name in
the guest-book and asked to have me pointed out to her. Perhaps she had
heard my name spoken in the same quarter where I had heard hers. We have
never exchanged confidences on the subject, and I cannot say. I can only
give you my reason for the interest I felt in Miss Challoner and why I
forgot, in the glamour of this episode, the aims and purposes of a not
unambitious life and the distance which the world and the so-called
aristocratic class put between a woman of her wealth and standing and a
simple worker like myself.

"I must be pardoned. She had smiled u