passed through many that were there; but the majority were
following with wild adulation the superb Koster, who, with elbows
slightly outward and hands turned inward, was passing toward the
ballroom. McFeckless accompanied him with conflicting emotions. Would
he see the incomparable Princess, who was lovelier and even still more
a mystery than the Chevalier? Would she--terrible thought!--succumb to
his perfections?

III

The Princess was already there, surrounded by a crowd of admirers,
equal if not superior to those who were following the superb Chevalier.
Indeed, they met almost as rivals! Their eyes sought each other in
splendid competition. The Chevalier turned away, dazzled and
incoherent. "She is adorable, magnificent!" he gasped to McFeckless.
"I love her on the instant! Behold, I am transported, ravished!
Present me."

Indeed, as she stood there in a strange gauzy garment of exquisite
colors, apparently shapeless, yet now and then revealing her perfect
figure like a bather seen through undulating billows, she was lovely.
Two wands were held in her taper fingers, whose mystery only added to
the general curiosity, but whose weird and cabalistic uses were to be
seen later. Her magnificent face--strange in its beauty--was stranger
still, since, with perfect archaeological Egyptian correctness, she
presented it only in profile, at whatever angle the spectator stood.
But such a profile! The words of the great Poet-King rose to
McFeckless's lips: "Her nose is as a tower that looketh toward
Damascus."

He hesitated a moment, torn with love and jealousy, and then presented
his friend. "You will fall in love with her--and then--you will fall
also by my hand," he hissed in his rival's ear, and fled tumultuously.

"Voulez-vous danser, mademoiselle?" whispered the Chevalier in the
perfect accent of the boulevardier.

"Merci, beaucoup," she replied in the diplomatic courtesies of the
Ambassadeurs.

They danced together, not once, but many times, to the admiration, the
wonder and envy of all; to the scandalized reprobation of a proper few.
Who was she? Who was he? It was easy to answer the last question: the
world rang with the reputation of "Chevalier the Artist." But she was
still a mystery.

Perhaps they were not so to each other! He was gazing deliriously into
her eyes. She was looking at him in disdainful curiosity. "I've seen
you before somewhere, haven't I?" she said at last, with a crushing