m some secret grove, ready to dart
back at any human touch. Max's lips were made for laughter; his eyes are
too bright for tears."

"And I, monsieur? What am I?"

"You are the miracle! You are the elusive creature deserting the green
groves--stepping voluntarily into the mortal world."

"Yet if you know of me at all, you must know that I have left the mortal
world and am seeking the secret groves."

"I have been told that."

"And you disbelieve?"

"I am afraid, princess, I do." He turned and looked at her--at the slim
body wrapped in its long, smooth cloak of velvet--at the shadowed,
questioning eyes. "I know I am greatly daring, but there are moments
when we are outside ourselves--when we know and speak things of which we
can give no logical account. You have put life behind you; yet what is
life but a will-o'-the-wisp? Who can say where the light may not break
forth again?"

"But have we not power over our senses, monsieur? Can we not shut our
eyes, even if the light does break forth?"

"No, princess, we cannot! Because nature will inevitably say, 'I have
given you eyes with which to see. Open those eyes'!"

"Ah, there we differ, monsieur!"

Blake laughed. "There, princess, you are the boy! He, too, thinks he can
cheat nature; but I preach my gospel to him, I tell him Nature will have
her own. If we will not bend to her, she will take and break us. Ah, but
listen to that!"

His discourse broke off; they both involuntarily raised their heads and
looked toward the windows of the neighboring _appartement_.

"Princess!" he said, delightedly. "I wouldn't have had you miss this for
ten thousand pounds! Has Max described his neighbor, M. Cartel? I tell
you you will have a little of heaven when M. Cartel plays _Louise_!"

Very delicately, with a curious human clarity of sound, the violin of M.
Cartel executed the first notes of Louise's declaration in the duet with
Julian--'_Depuis le jour ou je me suis donnee!'_ One caught the whole
intention of the composer in the few crystal notes--one figured the
whole scene--the little house of love, the lovers in their Garden of
Eden, and below Paris--symbolic Paris!

"You know _Louise_, princess?"

"Yes, monsieur, I know _Louise_."

All was clear, all was understood in that brief reply. A wide
contentment, vitalized by excitement, lifted the soul of Blake. Leaning
over the balcony railing, drinking in the music of M. Cartel, more than
a little of heaven opened to h