hose who have knowledge and experience
enough to appreciate its flawlessness. But the majority have not this
knowledge; they admire mere size, or a pear-like shape, or perhaps some
eccentricity of color. Thus the perfect one is guarded, and the world is
not reduced to despair.

During these days in the city Anne had thought often of Helen. Her
engagements were all in another quarter, distant from Miss Teller's
residence; she would not have accepted pupils in that neighborhood. But
it was not probable that any would be offered to her in so fashionable a
locality. She did not allow herself even to approach that part of the
city, or to enter the streets leading to it, yet many times she found
herself longing to see the house in spite of her determination, and
thinking that if she wore a thick veil, so that no one would recognize
her, there would be no danger, and she might catch a glimpse of Miss
Teller, or even of Helen. But she never yielded to these longings.
October passed into November, and November into December, and she did
not once transgress her rules.

Early in December she obtained a new pupil, her first in vocal music.
She gave two lessons without any unusual occurrence, and then--Of all
the powers that make or mar us, the most autocratic is Chance. Let not
the name of Fate be mentioned in its presence; let Luck hide its head.
For Luck is but the man himself, and Fate deals only with great
questions; but Chance attacks all irrelevantly and at random. Though man
avoids, arranges, labors, and plans, one stroke from its wand destroys
all. Anne had avoided, arranged, labored, and planned, yet on her way to
give the third lesson to this new pupil she came suddenly upon--Helen.

[Illustration: "SAW HER SLOWLY ASCEND THE HOUSE STEPS."]

On the opposite side a carriage had stopped; the footman opened the
door, and a servant came from the house to assist its occupant. Anne's
eyes by chance were resting upon the group. She saw a lady lifted to the
pavement; then saw her slowly ascend the house steps, while a maid
followed with shawls and wraps. It was Helen. Anne's eyes recognized her
instantly. She was unchanged--proud, graceful, and exquisitely attired
as ever, in spite of her slow step and need of assistance. Involuntarily
the girl opposite had paused; then, recovering herself, she drew down
her veil and walked on, her heart beating rapidly, her breath coming in
throbs. But no one had noticed her. Helen was already