al Grant! Taking
her all in all, bodily and mentally, there is a certain Teutonic
heaviness and tenacity about her--a certain professorial ponderosity
of thought which would give me a nightmare. She is the innocent result
of twenty generations of beer-drinking."

"Suppose we change the subject, Dannevig," I interrupted, rather
impatiently.

"Well, if you are not the oddest piece I ever did come across!" he
replied, laughingly. "You don't suppose she is a saint, do you?"

"Yes, I do!" I thundered, "and you would greatly oblige by never
mentioning her name again in my presence, or I might be tempted to do
what I might regret."

"Heavens!" he cried, laying hold of the door-knob. "I didn't know you
were in your dangerous mood to-day. You might at least have given a
fellow warning. Suppose, henceforth, when you have your bad days, you
post a placard on the door, with the inscription: 'Dangerous--must not
be crossed.' Then I might know when not to call. Good-morning."

* * * * *

On the lake shore, a short distance north of Lincoln Park, Mr. Pfeifer
had a charming little villa where he spent the summer months in
idyllic drowsiness, exhibiting a spasmodic interest in the culture of
European grapes. Here I found myself one Saturday evening in the
middle of June, having accepted the owner's invitation to stay over
Sunday with him. I rang the door-bell, and inquired for Mr. Pfeifer.
He had unexpectedly been called in to town, the servant informed me,
but would return presently; the young lady I would probably find in
the garden. As I was not averse to a _tete-a-tete_ with Miss Hildegard
just then, I threaded my way carefully among the flower-beds, whose
gorgeous medley of colors gleamed indistinctly through the twilight. A
long bar of deep crimson traced itself along the western horizon, and
here and there a star was struggling out from the faint, blue,
nocturnal dimness. Green and red and yellow lights dotted the surface
of the lake, and the waves beat, with a slow, gurgling rhythm, against
the strand beneath the garden fence; now and then the irrational
shrieks of some shrill-voiced little steamer broke in upon the
stillness like an inappropriately lively remark upon a solemn
conversation. I had half forgotten my purpose, and was walking
aimlessly on, when suddenly I was startled by the sound of human
voices, issuing apparently from a dense arbor of grape-vines at the
lower end of the walk