tinge of colour crept over it as the first hue of dawn creeps
into a pearly sky. Then she withdrew herself behind the screen of
lilies and for the rest of that dinner which I thought was never
coming to an end, practically I saw her no more. Only I noted as
she passed out that although not tall, she was rounded and
graceful in shape and that her hands were peculiarly delicate.

Afterwards in the drawing-room her father, with whom I had
talked at the table, introduced me to her, saying:

"My daughter is the real archaeologist, Mr. Arbuthnot, and I
think if you ask her, she may be able to help you."

Then he bustled away to speak to some of his important guests,
from whom I think he was seeking political information.

"My father exaggerates," she said in a soft and very
sympathetic voice, "but perhaps"--and she motioned me to a seat
at her side.

Then we talked of the places and things that I more
particularly desired to see and, well, the end of it was that I
went back to my hotel in love with Natalie; and as she afterwards
confessed, she went to bed in love with me.

It was a curious business, more like meeting a very old friend
from whom one had been separated by circumstances for a score of
years or so than anything else. We were, so to speak, intimate
from the first; we knew all about each other, although here and
there was something new, something different which we could not