an augmented importance. At all events, she had eluded me over
southern Europe from Genoa to Constantinople, and thence into Egypt, and
I wanted to see her face. It was at Naples that I had my first hasty and
imperfect view of her. I was hurrying through the Galeria Umberto, on my
way to a luncheon appointment for which I found myself late. As I passed
Merola's a young woman was sitting before a counter, with her back to
the street, trying on gloves. I could appreciate the gypsy grace of her
figure, which was slender, because one of the avocations into which I
have essayed without distinction is painting. The single thing at which
I have not failed, except the success of having selected parents who
bequeathed me money, is an appreciation of the beautiful. That
appreciation, despite my hurry, brought me to a stop for a full glance
at her; but there was no mirror at any part of the shop which gave me a
reflection of her averted face, and as my appointment was imperative, I
refrained from going in to buy gloves. But there was something so
exquisite in her bearing, and in the tasteful lines of her simple
traveling gown, that I caught myself thinking of her. Then as I went
down to the quay a day later to say farewell to some friends, just as
the gangplank of an outgoing steamer was about to be drawn up, I saw her
hurrying across it. Her face was still averted. I strained to catch a
feature, but a wayward gust of bay breeze wrapped a filmy veil about the
profile which was for a moment turned my way--and hid it. She did not
house at the deck rail but disappeared as the gangplank came up and cut
off pursuit. But I had added to my first impression the knowledge that
she did not merely walk. She soared as though her feet were the sandals
of Hermes, and she carried herself with the splendid grace of a slender
young queen.

[Illustration: A young woman was sitting before a counter, with her back
to the street, trying on gloves.]

The luncheon appointment, which had thwarted my impulse to turn into the
glove shop, and so end the mystery in its incipiency, brought a long
trail of complications and caused me to envy those fortunate men who are
not handicapped by the possession of relatives. I have sometimes thought
that the truly ideal existence would be to be born an orphan unhampered
by cousins, aunts or any of those human beings who are privileged to
make demands upon our times and thoughts.

From the moment when I watched the s