psychology, I dared not express the hope to her. And so we parted, with a thousand things unsaid, on a note of ineffectuality, of suspense, of vague indefiniteness.

And the next morning I received from her this brief missive, which threw me into a wild condition of joyous expectancy: “If you could meet me in the Church of St. Gilles at eleven o’clock this morning, I should like to have your advice upon a certain matter. — Rosa.”

Seventy-seven years elapsed before eleven o’clock.

St. Gilles is a large church in a small deserted square at the back of the town. I waited for Rosa in the western porch, and at five minutes past the hour she arrived, looking better in health, at once more composed and vivacious.