attention to what I say, but they give me an awfully small salary. In
fact," he added briskly, "I have almost no money at all." There was a
pause, and he went on, "I suppose you know that when I was sitting beside
you just now I wanted most terribly to kiss you."

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, no? Oh, yes. I wanted to, but I didn't. Don't worry. I won't for a
long time, perhaps never."

"Never?" said Miss Severance, and she smiled.

"I said _perhaps_ never. You can't tell. Life turns up some awfully queer
tricks now and then. Last night, for example. I walked into that ballroom
thinking of nothing, and there you were--all the rest of the room like a
sort of shrine for you. I said to a man I was with, 'I want to meet the
girl who looks like cream in a gold saucer,' and he introduced us. What
could be stranger than that? Not, as a matter of fact, that I ever
thought love at first sight impossible, as so many people do."

"But if you don't know the very first thing about a person--" Miss
Severance began, but he interrupted:

"You have to begin some time. Every pair of lovers have to have a first
meeting, and those who fall in love at once are just that much further
ahead." He smiled. "I don't even know your first name."

It seemed miraculous good fortune to have a first name.

"Mathilde."