ween them. She perceived in his tone a note of mockery, involuntary
in its expression, but all the more significant on that account.

"I am sorry you were there," she quickly replied. "I don't blame you.
No, it did not hurt me--I mean, it was all over in half an hour. The
contraction is very painful while it lasts. It's just like a cramp. I
didn't intend to give the sitting, but Mr. Pratt requested it for a
few of his friends and I couldn't well refuse. I didn't know you were
there till mamma told me afterwards. There is no value in such a
sitting to you."

With a dim suspicion of her wish to cover some deception, he answered:
"My entrance was quite as unpremeditated, I assure you." He spoke with
returning humor. "I really came to call upon you, to welcome you to
the city and to talk of the West. The usher mistook me for one of the
seekers and thrust me bodily into the circle. Please believe that I
acted upon sudden impulse in seizing your wrist. I am heartily ashamed
of myself. I was an intruder, and had no right, no excuse--although
your 'guides,' as you call them, seemed eager to have me sit beside
you."

"I do not blame you," she repeated, and fell strangely silent.

He studied her with mounting pleasure. The flower-like line of her
lips, her glorious bosom, the poise of her head, all the lines that
had meant so much to him at their first meeting, were there, more
womanly, more dangerous in their witchery than ever. For two years
their thoughts had subtly crossed and intertwined, and she now felt
his doubt, his question, almost as keenly as if he had uttered them.

He broke the momentary silence by saying, with a distinctly tender
tone, "Are you thinking of Colorow? I am."

She flushed and started a little. "Yes."

"I was recalling my first view of you--a fragment of sunset cloud
caught on a mountain-crag."

Her face grew wistful. "That seems a long time ago to me."

"It doesn't to me. It seems but yesterday. My trip that year was a
symphonic poem with a most moving final movement. I have thought of it
a thousand times." He paused a moment, then added: "Well, now, here
you are in New York, and here I am, and what of your music? I was to
advise you, you remember."

Her head lifted in defiance, an adorable gesture. "You know my secret
now." It was as if she said, "Come, let us have it over."

He replied, very gently; "I knew something of it then. Dr. Britt told
me something of it at the time."

Her eyes