nt the most precious thing upon
which the eye may look--a wholly beautiful woman. Kitty Killigrew,
standing in the casement window, stared at her silently, not without
some envy, not without some awe. What was going on behind those dreamy
eyes? Only once did the woman in the chair move, but this movement was
tense with passion: she clenched her hands and struck them roughly on
the arms of the chair. Immediately she relaxed, as if realizing how
futile such emotion was. Kitty stirred and came out. She sat in the
neighboring chair.

"Hilda?" said Kitty.

"Yes, Kitty."

"Who and what are you?" Kitty asked bravely.

La Signorina's eyes wandered till they met Kitty's. There was neither
anger nor surprise in the glance, only deliberation.

"And what good would it do you to know? Would it change our positions
any? Would it bring money from home any sooner? You already know,
without my telling you, that I am unhappy. The adventuress always is."

"Adventuress?" Kitty laughed scornfully. "The proprietor pretends he
does not know you, but I am certain he does. He forgets himself
sometimes in the way he bows to you. He has even called you _altezza_,
which you tell me is Italian for highness."

"He is in hope of a liberal tip."

"The proprietor? One does not tip him."

"That is true. I can not understand his motive, then."

"If he also applied the title to me, it would be different. He rarely
notices me. Won't you tell me what the secret is?"

"How beautiful that white sail looks!"

"You know all about me," went on Kitty stubbornly.

"Because you told me. I never asked you a single question."

"And you have told me nothing."

"Why should I? Come, Kitty, be reasonable. Tell me what you think of
that sail. Is it not beautiful in the sunset?"

"Is it--love?"

"Love?" La Signorina shrugged. "Poor Kitty, you are trying in vain to
make a romance out of my life. What should I know of love? It is a myth,
a fable, only to be found in story-books. You should not read so much."

"It is not curiosity," declared Kitty. "It is because I love you, and
because it makes me sad when I hear you laugh, when I see you beat your
hands against the chair as you did just now." There was a tremble in
Kitty's voice that suggested the nearness of tears.

La Signorina turned again, in a passion which was as fierce as it was
sudden.

"There _is_ a man," she whispered rather than spoke, the pupils in her
eyes dilating so that the blue iri