rking of enchantments. Again I
seemed in a partnership with Aladdin; and fairy pavilions, sylvan
paradises, bevies of dancing girls, and princes bearing gifts of gold
and jewels, had all obeyed our conjuration. I could have walked down to
the naphtha pleasure-boat and bidden the engineer put me down at
Khorassan, or some dreamful port of far Cathay, with no sense of
incongruity.

Two figures came from the tent and walked toward me. As I looked at
them, myself in darkness, they in the light, I had again that feeling of
having seen them in some similar way before. That same old sensation,
thought I, that the analytic novelist made trite ages ago. Then I saw
that it was Mr. Cornish and Miss Trescott. I could hear them talking;
but lay still, because I was loth to have my reveries disturbed. And
besides, to speak would seem an unwarranted assumption of confidential
relations on their part. They stopped near me.

"Your memory is not so good as mine," said he. "I knew you at once. Knew
you! Why--"

"I'm not very good at keeping names and faces in mind," she replied,
"unless they belong to people I have known very well."

"Indeed!" his voice dropped to the 'cello-like undertone now; "isn't
that a little unkind? I fancied that _we_ knew each other very well! My
conceit is not to be pandered to, I perceive."

"Ye-e-s--does it seem that way?" said she, ignoring the last remark.
"Well, you know it was only for a few days, and you kept calling
yourself by some ridiculous alias, and scarcely used your surname at
all, and I believe they called you Johnny--and you can't think what a
disguise such a beard is! But I remember you now perfectly. It quite
brings back those short months, when I was so young--and was finding
things out! I can see the vine-covered porch, and Madame Lamoreaux's
boarding-house on the South Side--"

"And the old art gallery?"

"Why, there was one, wasn't there?" said she, "somewhere along the lake
front, wasn't it?... Such a pleasant meeting, and so odd!"

I sat up in the hammock, and stared at them as they went on their
promenade. The old art gallery, the vine-covered porch, the young man
with the smooth-shaven dark face and the thrilling, vibrant voice, and
the young, young girl with the ruddy hair, and the little, round form!
She seemed taller now, and there was more of maturity in the figure; but
it was the same lissome waist and petite gracefulness which had so fully
explained to me the avid eyes