ar little Yankee woman. I have an idea she is a schoolmistress
taking a holiday, for which her scholars have made up a purse."

She turned her face a little more into profile, looking at the steep
gray house-fronts opposite to her. Then I said, "I shall speak to her
myself."

"I would n't; she is very shy," said my brother-in-law.

"My dear fellow, I know her. I once showed her photographs at a
tea-party."

And I went up to her. She turned and looked at me, and I saw she was in
fact Miss Caroline Spencer. But she was not so quick to recognize me;
she looked startled. I pushed a chair to the table and sat down.

"Well," I said, "I hope you are not disappointed!"

She stared, blushing a little; then she gave a small jump which betrayed
recognition.

"It was you who showed me the photographs, at Grimwinter!"

"Yes, it was I. This happens very charmingly, for I feel as if it were
for me to give you a formal reception here, an official welcome. I
talked to you so much about Europe."

"You did n't say too much. I am so happy!" she softly exclaimed.

Very happy she looked. There was no sign of her being older; she was as
gravely, decently, demurely pretty as before. If she had seemed before a
thin-stemmed, mild-hued flower of Puritanism, it may be imagined whether
in her present situation this delicate bloom was less apparent. Beside
her an old gentleman was drinking absinthe; behind her the _dame de
comptoir_ in the pink ribbons was calling "Alcibiade! Alcibiade!" to the
long-aproned waiter. I explained to Miss Spencer that my companion
had lately been her shipmate, and my brother-in-law came up and was
introduced to her. But she looked at him as if she had never seen him
before, and I remembered that he had told me that her eyes were always
fixed upon the eastward horizon. She had evidently not noticed him, and,
still timidly smiling, she made no attempt whatever to pretend that she
had. I stayed with her at the _cafe_ door, and he went back to the hotel
and to his wife. I said to Miss Spencer that this meeting of ours in
the first hour of her landing was really very strange, but that I was
delighted to be there and receive her first impressions.

"Oh, I can't tell you," she said; "I feel as if I were in a dream. I
have been sitting here for an hour, and I don't want to move. Everything
is so picturesque. I don't know whether the coffee has intoxicated me;
it 's so delicious."

"Really," said I, "if you are so