blame it on the wind." She laughed, her dark eyes
full on his, though Mr. Heatherbloom seemed hardly to see them.

After that when they met on this little elevation, she bowed to him and
sometimes ventured a remark or two. He did not seem over-anxious to talk
but he met her troubled face with calm and unvarying, though somewhat
absent-minded courtesy. He replied to her questions perfunctorily, told
her whom he served, betraying, however, in turn, no inquisitiveness
concerning her. For him she was just some one who came and went, and
incidentally interfered with his study of the sky-line.

By degrees she confided in him; as one so alone she was glad of almost
any one to confide in. She wanted, indeed, needed badly, a situation as
lady's maid or second maid. She had tried and tried for a position;
unfortunately her recommendations were mostly foreign--from Milan,
Moscow, Paris. People either scrutinized them suspiciously, or _mon
Dieu_! couldn't read them. It was hard on her; she had had such a time!
She, a Viennese, with all her experience in France, Italy, Russia,
found herself at her wits' end in this golden America. Wasn't it odd,
_tres drole?_ She had laughed and laughed when she hadn't cried about
it.

She had even tried singing in a little music-hall, a horribly common
place, but her voice had failed her. Perhaps there was a vacancy at Miss
Van--what was her name? There _was_ a place vacant; the maid with the
saucy nose, Mr. Heatherbloom indifferently vouchsafed, had just left to
marry out of service.

"How fortunate!" the fair questioner cried; then sighed. Miss Van
Rolsen, being a maiden lady, would probably be most particular about
recommendations; that they should be of the home-made, intelligible
brand, from people you could call up by telephone and interrogate. Had
she been very particular in his case? Mr. Heatherbloom said "no"--not
joyfully, and explained. Though she drew words from him, he talked to
the sky-line. She listened; seemed thinking deeply.

"You are not pleased to be there?" Keenly.

"I?--Oh, of course!" Quickly.

She did not appear to note his changed manner. "This Miss
Van Rolsen,--isn't she the one whose niece--Miss Elizabeth
Dalrymple--recently refused the hand and heart of a Russian prince?" she
said musingly.

"Refused?" he cried suddenly. "You mean--" He stopped; the words had
been surprised from him.

"Accepted?" She looked at him closer. "Of course; I remember now seeing
it