I was absorbed in a personal puzzle. Here was I, messenger upon some
important errand, as I might guess. But white satin and a midnight
adventure--at least, a gentleman might bow and ask if he could be of
assistance!

A dark framed face, whose outlines I could only dimly see in the faint
light of the street lamp, leaned toward me. The same small hand
nervously reached out, as though in request.

I now very naturally stepped closer. A pair of wide and very dark eyes
was looking into mine. I could now see her face. There was no smile upon
her lips. I had never seen her before, that was sure--nor did I ever
think to see her like again; I could say that even then, even in the
half light. Just a trifle foreign, the face; somewhat dark, but not too
dark; the lips full, the eyes luminous, the forehead beautifully arched,
chin and cheek beautifully rounded, nose clean-cut and straight, thin
but not pinched. There was nothing niggard about her. She was
magnificent--a magnificent woman. I saw that she had splendid jewels at
her throat, in her ears--a necklace of diamonds, long hoops of diamonds
and emeralds used as ear-rings; a sparkling clasp which caught at her
white throat the wrap which she had thrown about her ball gown--for now
I saw she was in full evening dress. I guessed she had been an attendant
at the great ball, that ball which I had missed with so keen a regret
myself--the ball where I had hoped to dance with Elisabeth. Without
doubt she had lost her way and was asking the first stranger for
instructions to her driver.

My lady, whoever she was, seemed pleased with her rapid temporary
scrutiny. With a faint murmur, whether of invitation or not I scarce