harp eye upon the house which he reasoned should be his objective
point, when he noticed a woman approaching rapidly from the opposite
direction. Always an interested observer of women, Wilson would have
slackened his pace anywhere to follow this one with his impersonal,
appreciative glance. She was a person of distinction he saw at once,
and, moreover, very handsome. She was tall, carried her beautiful head
proudly, and moved with ease and certainty. One immediately took for
granted the costly privileges and fine spaces that must lie in the
background from which such a figure could emerge with this rapid and
elegant gait. Wilson noted her dress, too,--for, in his way, he had an
eye for such things,--particularly her brown furs and her hat. He got
a blurred impression of her fine color, the violets she wore, her white
gloves, and, curiously enough, of her veil, as she turned up a flight of
steps in front of him and disappeared.

Wilson was able to enjoy lovely things that passed him on the wing as
completely and deliberately as if they had been dug-up marvels, long
anticipated, and definitely fixed at the end of a railway journey. For
a few pleasurable seconds he quite forgot where he was going, and only
after the door had closed behind her did he realize that the young woman
had entered the house to which he had directed his trunk from the South
Station that morning. He hesitated a moment before mounting the steps.
"Can that," he murmured in amazement,--"can that possibly have been Mrs.
Alexander?"

When the servant admitted him, Mrs. Alexander was still standing in the
hallway. She heard him give his name, and came forward holding out her
hand.

"Is it you, indeed, Professor Wilson? I was afraid that you might get
here before I did. I was detained at a concert, and Bartley telephoned
that he would be late. Thomas will show you your room. Had you rather
have your tea brought to you there, or will you have it down here with
me, while we wait for Bartley?"

Wilson was pleased to find that he had been the cause of her rapid walk,
and with her he was even more vastly pleased than before. He followed
her through the drawing-room into the library, where the wide back
windows looked out upon the garden and the sunset and a fine stretch
of silver-colored river. A harp-shaped elm stood stripped against the
pale-colored evening sky, with ragged last year's birds' nests in its
forks, and through the bare branches the evening