shining through the tossing spray of the fountain, made traceries
of shadow on the gleaming folds of her garments. In an instant she
was gone and I was alone.

I was strangely shaken by the vision, and some time passed before I
could rise to my feet, for I was still weak from my illness, and
the sight I had seen would have startled anyone. I did not reason
with myself, for I was certain that I had looked on the unearthly,
and no argument could have destroyed that belief. At last I got up
and stood unsteadily, gazing in the direction in which I thought
the face had gone; but there was nothing to be seen--nothing but
the broad paths, the tall, dark evergreen hedges, the tossing water
of the fountains and the smooth pool below. I fell back upon the
seat and recalled the face I had seen. Strange to say, now that
the first impression had passed, there was nothing startling in the
recollection; on the contrary, I felt that I was fascinated by the
face, and would give anything to see it again. I could retrace the
beautiful straight features, the long dark eyes, and the wonderful
mouth most exactly in my mind, and when I had reconstructed every
detail from memory I knew that the whole was beautiful, and that I
should love a woman with such a face.

"I wonder whether she is the Woman of the Water!" I said to myself.
Then rising once more, I wandered down the garden, descending one
short flight of steps after another from terrace to terrace by the
edge of the marble basins, through the shadow and through the
moonlight; and I crossed the water by the rustic bridge above the
artificial grotto, and climbed slowly up again to the highest
terrace by the other side. The air seemed sweeter, and I was very
calm, so that I think I smiled to myself as I walked, as though a