think where in the world I have seen her. I am going to search the hotel
books to-morrow for I will not rest until I find out her name. It was
almost dark, however, when we met, and she was going toward the opposite
side of the Maine where there are no foreign hotels.

I surmise, and suppose, and guess, but all to no purpose, while that one
look seems to be planted indelibly upon my mind. I would give anything
to see her again; I can think of nothing now, for the strange,
inexpressible fascination of those eyelids has me entirely captive.
Where have we met? Try and think, my dear boy, of some one of our
acquaintance who tallies with my description; about my height, black
hair, a white, unusually white face, finely marked eyebrows and the
drooping lids, which when raised, disclose large, brilliant, yet
languid, blue eyes,--I cannot give the picture to suit me, but you note
the strange paleness and the eyes, and you must remember if you have
ever met her.

I often go to the little opera house, where the music is of the best,
yet I cannot enjoy myself, for, as ever I am alone; all I can do is just
to think and think and imagine things to interest me through the dreary
time. What strange fantasies I have brought up in my life! You know
some of them, and it is quite true as you wrote in your last that
translation from Hawthorne, "His caprices had their origin in a mind
that lacked the support of an engrossing purpose and feelings that
preyed upon themselves for lack of other food."

I try to interest myself in the things about me, but I am a dreamer. I
wonder often what my life will come to in the end, of what use I shall
be. No, it is not good that I should be alone; now, however, since I
have seen the unknown beauty, I will not have to search my mind for