to know him--to know him"--she paused an instant and I wondered what she
was going to say--"to know him as a visitor."

"As a visitor?" I repeated, staring.

"He used to call on her and take her out."

I continued to stare. "My dear lady, he died a hundred years ago!"

"Well," she said mirthfully, "my aunt is a hundred and fifty."

"Mercy on us!" I exclaimed; "why didn't you tell me before?
I should like so to ask her about him."

"She wouldn't care for that--she wouldn't tell you,"
Miss Tita replied.

"I don't care what she cares for! She MUST tell me--
it's not a chance to be lost."

"Oh, you should have come twenty years ago: then she still
talked about him."

"And what did she say?" I asked eagerly.

"I don't know--that he liked her immensely."

"And she--didn't she like him?"

"She said he was a god." Miss Tita gave me this information flatly,