rt-beat of Venice. It had the intimate, penetrating power of a
whispered incantation; it touched and quickened the imagination more
than peal of bells or chant of marching priests. And as she knelt and
listened the young girl felt a scorn of the past and its limitations and
its trivial satisfactions--its petty reference of everything to a small,
personal standard. The great outer world was knocking at the door of
her heart, the world of suffering, and the world of joy, the world of
romance, and the world of real human experience.

She would sing to-night; she would let her own personality go, and be
just a human creature doing a daring, inspiring thing for the sake of
another human creature who was in need. With a sense of exultant
self-surrender she lifted her face and looked up at the Salute. Its
domes and pinnacles had been hidden by the low-hanging awning, but now,
with her eyes on a level with the balustrade, she could see the lovely
temple in all its gracious outlines.

"And I remember I used to wonder whether I liked it," she thought to
herself, with a singular feeling, as if she had been recalling a past
state of existence.

She rose to her feet and stepped inside. A pile of sheet music lay upon
the table, and she stood a few minutes beside it, turning over the
leaves and humming softly to herself. There was a rap at the door, and
Uncle Dan appeared.

At once her mood had changed. She was Polly, and here was Uncle Dan, to
be cajoled and entreated and vanquished.

"Oh, Uncle Dan!" she cried, "I thought you never were coming! I want to
talk to you."

"Why, Polly!" he exclaimed, "what are you up to? You look like a fright
in that thing!"

"Which means, you never would have known me," Polly declared
mischievously. "That's just what I wanted. Now come in like a dear and
let me talk to you. No, sit in this chair,--it's much more comfortable.
Have you had your cigar?"

"Of course I have. It's nearly an hour since luncheon."

"Don't you want another?"

"Polly! What are you driving at?"

"I only wanted to make you perfectly comfortable, so that you would
enjoy having a little chat with me."

She had seated herself in a low chair opposite him, where she could look
straight into his eyes. She pulled off the black lace and proceeded to
fold it with great care and precision. There was a look in her face,
calculated to make the old soldier call out all his reserves.

"Well, out with it, Polly!" he cried.

"