t the
keys for an instant with her fingers, and plunged into the brilliant
"Carmen" overture. Susceptible as this man was to the influence of
music, he could not fail to be arrested by so perfect an interpretation
of his mood. He stood rooted, was carried back again in imagination to
a great artiste's rendering of that story of fierce passion and aching
desire so brilliantly enacted under the white sunbeat of a country
of cloudless skies. Imperceptibly she drifted into other parts of the
opera. Was it the wild, gypsy seductiveness of _Carmen_ that he felt,
or, rather, this American girl's allurement? From "Love will like a
birdling fly" she slipped into the exquisitely graceful snatches of song
with which _Carmen_ answers the officer's questions. Their rare buoyancy
marched with his mood, and from them she carried him into the song
"Over the hill," that is so perfect and romantic an expression of the
_wanderlust._

How long she could have held him she will never know, for at that
inopportune time came blundering one of his men into the room with a
call for his presence to take charge of the situation outside.

"What do y'u want, Bostwick?" he demanded, with curt peremptoriness.

The man whispered in his ear.

"Can't wait any longer, can't they?" snapped his chief. "Y'u tell them
they'll wait till I give the word. Understand?"

He almost flung the man out of the room, but Helen noticed that she had
lost him. His interest was perfunctory, and, though he remained a little
time longer, it was to establish his authority with the men rather than
to listen to her. Twice he looked at his watch within five minutes.

He rose to go. "There is a little piece of business I have to put
through. So I'll have to ask y'u to excuse me. I have had a delightful
hour, and I hate to go." He smiled, and quoted with mock sentimentality:

"The hours I spent with thee, dear heart, Are as a string of pearls to
me; I count them over, every one apart, My rosary! My rosary!"

"Dear me! One certainly lives and learns. How could I have guessed that,
with your reputation, you could afford to indulge in a rosary?" she
mocked.

"Good night." He offered his hand.

"Don't go yet," she coaxed.

He shook his head. "Duty, y'u know."

"Stay only a little longer. Just ten minutes more."

His vanity purred, so softly she stroked it. "Can't. Wish I could. Y'u
hear how noisy things are getting. I've got to take charge. So-long."

She stood close,