bout a
person not yet embodied into actual existence--i.e. my future wife. I
have not yet met her--she is a purely ideal being--but at the same time
I so often have a vivid conception of her looks, her air, her walk, her
tones even, that she seems to be present. My misery is that I cannot
find her in real life.

No one need fancy that I am an imaginative man: quite the contrary is
the fact. I am a lawyer, and have an office in Bond street. Every
morning at eight o'clock I take the Sixth Avenue horse-cars and ride
down to Fourteenth street. I have a fancy for walking the rest of the
way, and toward evening I saunter back homeward along Broadway and Union
Square.

Prosaic as these journeys may seem, they are nevertheless the
inspiration of my hopes, the feeders of my visions. It is at such times
that I enjoy my glimpses of the lady I long to meet. I jostle gentle
creatures at every step: feminine shapes and feminine tones are on every
side presented to eyes and ears. I trust nobody will be prejudiced
against me when I confess that I see the fair one of my dreams in the
shop-windows. Once having seen her, I become immeasurably happy, and go
on dreaming about her until we meet again. It may seem a curious
admission, but this beautiful although impalpable being is suggested by
the charming dresses, hats and bonnets displayed on the milliners'
blocks. None of our artists can paint portraits now-a-days: Art seems to
have withdrawn her gifts from them and endowed the dressmakers and
milliners instead.

It was at first difficult for me to decide on the personality of my
beloved. My earliest fancy was for a blond: at least the dress was of
pale blue silk with a profusion of lace trimmings. Her hat was of straw
faced with azure velvet, and the crown surrounded by a long plume, also
of ciel blue. I knew by heart the features of this fair young creature,
invisible although she was to others. They seemed to belong more to a
flower than to a face: her eyes were large and blue, full of appealing
love; her hair was of course golden; her smile was angelic; and her
whole expression was one of sweetness and goodness. She was my first
dream: little although she belonged to actual life, she used to trip
about by my side and sit with me in my room at home. Suddenly, however,
I became enamored of a different creature, and my dream changed. I began
to think of my lovely blond regretfully as of a beautiful creature too
good for earth who die