est woman in the world. But she died when I was very young. It was
after this that Dad took me on his long voyages with him,--to South
America, to India, and Africa. I don't remember much about it, except
as a series of pictures. I know I had the best of times for somehow I
can remember better how I felt than what I saw. I used to play on the
deck in the sun and listen to the sailors who told me strange stories.
Then when we reached a port Dad used to take me by the hand and lead
me through queer, crooked little streets and show me the shops and buy
whole armfuls of things for me. I remember it all just as you remember
brightly colored pictures of cities--pointed spires in the sunlight,
streets full of bright colors, and dozens of odd men and women whose
faces come at night and are forgotten in the morning. Dad was big and
handsome and very proud of me. He used to like to show me off and take
me with him everywhere. Those years were very wonderful and
beautiful.

"Then one day he brought me back to shore again, and for a while we
lived together in a large white house within sight of the ocean. We
used to take long walks and sometimes went to town, but he didn't seem
very happy. One day he brought home with him a strange woman and told
me that she was to be housekeeper, and that I must obey her and grow
up to be a fine woman. Then he went away. That was fifteen years ago.
Then came the report he was dead; that was ten years ago. After a
while I didn't mind so much, for I used to lie on my back and recall
all the places we had been together. When these pictures began to fade
a little, I learned another way,--a way taught me by a sailor. I took
a round crystal I found in the parlor and I looked into it hard,--oh,
very, very hard. Then it happened. First all I saw was a blur of
colors, but in a little while these separated and I saw as clearly as
at first all the streets and places I had ever visited, and sometimes
others too. Oh, it was such a comfort! Was that wrong?"

"No," he answered slowly, "I can't see anything wrong in that."

"She--the housekeeper--called it wicked--devilish. She took away the
crystal. But after a while I found I could see with other things--even
with just a glass of clear water. All you have to do is to hold your
eyes very still and stare and stare. Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"I've heard of that."

She dropped her voice, evidently struggling with growing excitement,
colored with somet