altogether a confusing, bewildering beauty. At one moment I believed
her to be Latin, at the next I was positive that she was Teutonic. I
could not discover a single weak point, unless impulsiveness shall be
called weakness; this sign of impulsiveness was visible in the lips.

The other--well, I couldn't help it. It was _Kismet_, fate, the turn
in the road, what you will. I fell heels over head in love with her at
once. She was charming, exquisite, one of those delicate creatures who
always appear in enchantments; a Bouguereau child grown into womanhood,
made to fit the protecting frame of a man's arms. Love steals into the
heart when we least expect him; and before we are aware, the sly little
god has unpacked his trunk and taken possession!

Eyes she had as blue as the Aegean Sea on windy days, blue as the
cloud-winnowed sky of a winter's twilight, blue as sapphires--Irish
eyes! Her hair was as dark and silken as a plume from the wings of
night. (Did I not say that I had some poetry in my system?) The shape
of her mouth--Never mind; I can recall only the mad desire to kiss it.
A graceful figure, a proud head, a slender hand, a foot so small that I
wondered if it really poised, balanced or supported her young body.
Tender she must be, and loving, enclitical rather than erect like her
authoritative companion. She was adorable.

All this inventory of feminine charms was taken by furtive glances,
sometimes caught--or were they taking an inventory of myself?
Presently my appetite became singularly submissive. Hunger often is
satisfied by the feeding of the eyes. I dropped my napkin on the table
and pushed back my chair. My hostesses ceased conversing.

"Ladies," said I courteously, "I offer you my sincere apologies for