ght in heart and feeling. I had to put on these. Oh," throwing
herself into a chair, "I have suffered to-day. It has been coming on for
days. Ennui. Do you know it, pretty lady? And the longing for mine own
people."

"Your people are not in this country, are they?" asked Kitty politely.

The Mariposa drew her brows together in a little puzzled frown. "My
people!" she repeated. "Oh," with dawning comprehension, "you mean
relatives. I," with a short laugh, "I said mine own people. You," turning
to Robert, "you understand. One of the greatest, most searching questions
ever asked, and which must finally be answered by each of us from the
promptings of his own heart, is: 'Who is my brother and my sister?' Ah, I
shall soon take to the road again. If I could only go now!"

"To find your own people," asked Kitty timidly.

"One does not seek one's own," said Ydo disdainfully. "One does not
'scour the seas nor sift mankind a poet or a friend to find.' He comes,
and you know him because he is a poor Greek like yourself. Dear
lady"--she broke into one of her airy rushes of laughter--"in spite of
your smiles and all the self-control of a careful social training, you
are the picture of bewilderment. See, you can keep no secrets from the
fortune-teller. You can not place me. Why do you try? I refused to be
announced and mine was the fate of the listener. Brutus there is an
honorable man who admits that I am extravagant, even if he condones it.
Ah, madame, money is not wealth, it is a base counterfeit, a servant whom
I bid to exchange itself for beauty. These"--she stripped the petals from
a red rose in a vase near her, and tossed them in the air--"these are the
real wealth of the world. And Brutus says I am stilted, exaggerated in my
conversation, given to metaphor and hyperbole. That is because I dare to
express what I feel, and since everywhere I see parables I voice them.
Why not?

"And Brutus says I am eccentric, admitting that I dare to be myself; and
to dare to be one's self, dear lady, is to dare everything. We are afraid
of life, of love, of sorrow and joy, of everything. This fear of life is
universal."

"And you, are you never afraid?" asked Kitty.

"Of what?" laughed the Gipsy. "Let me tell you a secret; and oh, madame,
wear it next your heart, guard it. 'Tis a talisman against fear. The
lions are always chained. Believe me, it is so. But our conversation is
of a seriousness! Mr. Hayden spoke of a dinner."

"Yes, a