ittle head with its coronet of
heavy braids.

She did not raise her eyes to see Barry Elder's sudden flash of
astonishment. Shyly she slipped within his clasp and let him swing her
out into the circle of dancers.

Maria Angelina could waltz, indeed. She was fairy-footed, and for some
moments Barry Elder was content to dance without speaking; then he bent
his head closer to those dark braids.

"So I am the first young man you have met in America?"

Maria Angelina looked up through her lashes in quick gayety.

"It is my first day, Signor!"

"Your first American--Ah, but on the boat! There must have been young
men on that boat, American young men?"

"On that boat? Signor!" Maria Angelina laughed mischievously. "One reads
of such in novels--yes? But as to that boat, it was a floating nunnery."

"Oh, come now," he protested amusedly, "there must have been _some_
men!"

"Some men, yes--a ship's officer, some married ones, a grandfather or
two--but nothing young and nothing American."

"It must have been a great disappointment," said Barry enjoying himself.

"It would not have mattered if there had been a thousand. The Signora
Mariotti would have seen to it that I met no one. She is a _very_ good
chaperon, Signor!"

"I thank her. She has preserved the dew on the rose, the flush on the
dawn--the wax for the record and the--er--niche for the statue. I never
had my statue done," said Barry gayly, "but if you would care for it, in
terra cotta, rather small and neat----"

Confusedly Maria Angelina laughed.

"And this is your maiden voyage of discovery!" He was looking down at
her as he swept her about a corner. "Rash young person! Don't you know
what happened to your kinsman, Our First Discoverer?"

"But what?"

"He was loaded with fetters," said Barry solemnly.

"Fetters? But what fetters could I fear?"

"Have you never heard," he demanded of her upraised eyes, "of the
fetters of matrimony?"

"Oh, Signor!" Actually the color swept into her cheeks and her eyes fled
from his, though she laughed lightly. "That is a golden fetter."

"Sometimes," said he, dryly, "or gilded."

But Maria Angelina was pursuing his jest. "It was not until Columbus
returned to his Europe that he was fettered. It was not from the--the
natives that he had such ill-treatment to fear."

"Now, do you think the--the natives"--gayly Barry mimicked her quaint
inflection--"will let you get away with _that_? Or let you return? . . .
You h