h a pleasant laugh entered the
carriage. It was the Apollo of her dreams, the singer of the Holland
House pavement. She could not doubt it. His face, his figure, his walk,
and the pleasant smile with which he spoke to his companion were all
positive characteristics. She had forgotten none of them. His dress was
altered to suit the season, but that was an improvement; for divested of
his heavy coat, and clothed only in a stylish afternoon suit, his tall,
fine figure showed to great advantage; and Ethel told herself that he
was even handsomer than she had supposed him to be.

Almost as soon as he entered his carriage there was a movement, and
she hoped her driver might advance sufficiently to make recognition
possible, but some feeling, she knew not what, prevented her giving
any order leading to this result. Perhaps she had an instinctive
presentiment that it was best to leave all to Destiny. Toward the upper
part of the avenue the carriage of her eager observation came to a stand
before a warehouse of antique furniture and bric-a-brac, and, as it did
so, a beautiful woman ran down the steps, and Apollo, for so Ethel had
men-tally called him, went hurriedly to meet her. Finally her coachman
passed the party, and there was a momentary recognition. He was bending
forward, listening to something the lady was saying, when the vehicles
almost touched each other. He flashed a glance at them, and met the
flash of Ethel's eyes full of interest and curiosity.

It was over in a moment, but in that moment Ethel saw his astonishment
and delight, and felt her own eager questioning answered. Then she was
joyous and full of hope, for "these two silent meetings are promises,"
she said to Ruth. "I feel sure I shall see him again, and then we shall
speak to each other."

"I hope you are not allowing yourself to feel too much interest in this
man, Ethel; he is very likely married."

"Oh, no! I am sure he is not, Ruth."

"How can you be sure? You know nothing about him."

"I cannot tell HOW I know, nor WHY I know, but I believe what I feel;
and he is as much interested in me as I am in him. I confess that is a
great deal."

"You may never see him again."

"I shall expect to see him next winter, he evidently lives in New York."

"The lady you saw may be his wife. Don't be interested in any man on
unknown ground, Ethel. It is not prudent--it is not right."

"Time will show. He will very likely be looking for me this summer at
Newp