first glance that day in the hall of the Valmont. He would have known the
angel by her eyes and hair, if nothing else had answered the description;
but all the rest belonged to the same picture--the picture of his ideal,
the girl he had never expected to see in real life. And it was all the
more wonderful that her name should be Angel, or something near it. He
might not have learned that exquisite detail if she had not given him the
diamond frame to hold as security. And to be sure of his security he was
keeping it in a pocket over his heart. He knew that this was sentimental,
but he did not care a red cent! Indeed, he gloried in it. Soon all would
be over, for she was of a world different from his, and presently she
would vanish back to her own high place, wherever that might be. He could
not have defined the difference between their worlds, if he had been
called upon to do so, but he felt it intensely. Still, he meant to make
the most of every minute, and he intended to have as many minutes as he
could get. Each could be separately treasured as if it were a pearl. He
would make a jewel-case of his memory, he told himself, for he was very
sure that never would so good a thing come to him again.

When he reached the hotel it was dinner-time, and hoping that Mrs. May
might invite him to her table, as she had before, he dressed carefully,
despite his inconvenient quarters. When he was ready, however, his heart
failed him. It seemed too good to be true that his luck should hold. She
would probably be dining in her own sitting-room, or else she would have
had enough of his company earlier in the day. But no, there she was in the
restaurant, at the same table where they had lunched together; and after
all everything arranged itself very simply. He had to tell her the news of
the gold bag--his version of it; and hearing that it might be restored,
she exclaimed, "You're wonderful! I'm sure it's all through you. It will
be nice to have my dear bag again, when I go aboard the train."