usion. The figure of this girl in cream merely
resembled hers, that was all. I tried to convince myself of it, and yet
I was unable to do so. Why, I cannot tell, but I had been seized with a
keen desire to see her face. I half rose, but sat back again, ridiculing
my own thoughts. And so five minutes passed, until, unable to resist
longer, I rose, went forth into the gardens, and wandered among the
palms in search of her.

At last I found her standing by a low wall, her face turned towards the
sea. Alone, she had paused in her walk, and with her eyes turned across
the bay she was in a deep reverie. Then, as she heard my footstep, she
turned and faced me.

"Vivi!" I cried, rushing toward her.

"You!--George!" she gasped, starting back in sudden amazement.

"Yes," I said madly. "At last, after all this long time, I have found
you!"

She held her breath. Her beautiful countenance changed, her sweet mouth
hardened; I fancied I saw tears welling in her great blue eyes that were
so fathomless.

"I--I did not dream that you were here, or I would never have come," she
faltered. "Never!"

"Because you still wish to avoid me--eh? Your memory still remains to
me--but, alas! only a memory," I said sadly, taking her hand again and
holding it firmly within my own. "I am only a chauffeur."

Our eyes met. She looked at me long and steadily. Her chest rose and
fell, and she turned her gaze from me, away to the purple mountains
across the bay.

"Let me still remain only a memory," she answered in a low, strained
voice. "It is as painful to me to meet you--as to you."

"But why? Tell me why?" I demanded, raising her soft hand again to my
lips. "Do you remember that day on the Ripley road--the day when we
parted?"

She nodded, and her chest rose and fell again, stirred by her own deep
emotions.

"You would give me no reason for your sudden decision."

"And I still can give you none."

"But why?"

She was silent, standing there with the brilliant Southern afterglow
falling full upon her beautiful face. Behind her was a background of
feathery palms, and we were alone.

I still held her hand, though she endeavoured to withdraw it.

"Ah!" I cried, "you always withhold your reason from me. I am not rich
like other men who admire and flatter you, yet I tell you--ah yes, I
swear to you--that only you do I love. Ever since you came fresh from
your school in Germany I admired you. Do you remember how many times you
sat at my