I am a man, and I ought to possess the ordinary resolution of a
man. Now, here's a chance to turn over a new leaf. Nobody knows me;
no one will notice me particularly; and whether I fail or succeed, the
experiment will never be brought forward to my confusion hereafter."

Full of a sudden courage he sprang to his feet, and carefully adjusted
his toilet for the tea-table, whistling cheerfully all the while. At
the sound of the gong he descended the staircase, and approached the
dining-room with head erect, meeting the gaze of the other guests with
a steadiness which resembled defiance. He was surprised to find how
mechanical and transitory were the glances he encountered. As Mr.
Bartlett's friend, I should not like to assert that in his efforts to
appear self-possessed he approached the bounds of effrontery; but I
have my own private suspicions about the matter. At the table a lively
conversation was carried on, and he was able to take many stealthy
observations of the ladies without being noticed. To his shame I must
confess that he had never been seriously in love, though it was a
condition he most earnestly desired. Attracted toward women by the
instinct of his nature, and repelled by his awkward embarrassment,
there seemed little chance that he would ever attain it. On this
particular occasion, however, he cast his eyes around with the air of a
sultan scanning his slaves before throwing the handkerchief to the
chosen one. The female guests--old, young, married, single,
ill-favored or beautiful--were subjected to the review. It is
impossible to describe Mr. Bartlett's satisfaction with himself.

He had passed over twenty-nine of the thirty-five ladies present
without experiencing any special emotion; but at the thirtieth he was
suddenly attacked by a recurrence of his habitual timidity. He fixed
his eyes upon his toast, painfully conscious by the warmth of his ears
that he was blushing violently, and actually drank a third cup of tea
(one more than his usual allowance) before he became sufficiently
composed to look up again. Really there was no cause for confusion.
Her face was turned away, so that even the profile was not wholly
visible; but the exquisite line of the forehead and cheek, bent inward
at the angle of the unseen eye, and melting into the sweep of the neck
and shoulder, were the surest possible prophecies of beauty. Her
chestnut hair, rippled at the temples, was gathered into a heavy,
shini