the other women that ever lived in the world; and that something surprised
and perplexed her. The smile still curved her lips; I felt myself grin in
idiotic imitation.

"What is the matter?" the radiant stranger persisted. "You act as if--"

The smile grew sunnier; it rippled to a laugh that was merriment set to
music.

"John! John Burke!" she said, giving my hands a little, impatient shake,
just as Nelly used to do. "It isn't possible! Don't you--why, you goose!
Don't you know me?"

"Helen!"

Of course! I had known her from the beginning! A man couldn't be in the
same room with Nelly Winship and feel just as if she were any other girl.
But she was not Helen at all--that radiant impossibility! And yet she was.
Or she said so, and my heart agreed. But when I would have drawn her to
me, she stepped back in lovely confusion, with a fluttered question:--

"How long have you been here, John?"

That voice! Sweet, fresh; full of exquisite cadences such as one might
hear in dreams and ever after yearn for--from the first it had baffled me
more than the beautiful face. It was not Helen's. What a blunder!

I gazed at her, still giddy. Who was she? I could not trust the astounding
recognition. She returned the look, bending towards me, seeking as
eagerly, I saw with confused wonderment, to read my thought as I to fathom