attempt at a ghost story. She was not there. He found her, then,
in the parlour. She was kneeling on the floor before the glass
cabinet of curiosities, and she had quite flattened her little nose
against the pane. At his exclamation she looked up with a laugh.

"This is the proper altitude from which to view a cabinet of
curiosities," said she, "and something tells me you ought to flatten
your nose, too." She held out both hands to be helped up. "Oh,
WHAT a house for a child!" she cried.

After the company had gone, Orde stood long by the front gate
looking up into the infinite spaces. Somehow, and vaguely, he felt
the night to be akin to her elusive spirit. Farther and farther his
soul penetrated into its depths; and yet other depths lay beyond,
other mysteries, other unguessed realms. And yet its beauty was the
simplicity of space and dark and the stars.

The next time he saw her was at her own house--or rather the house
of the friend she visited. Orde went to call on Friday evening and
was lucky enough to find the girls home and alone. After a decent
interval Jane made an excuse and went out. They talked on a great
variety of subjects, and with a considerable approach toward
intimacy. Not until nearly time to go did Orde stumble upon the
vital point of the evening. He had said something about a plan for
the week following.

"But you forget that by that time I shall be gone," said she.

"Gone!" he echoed blankly. "Where?"