"You are not the kind of woman that causes banishment from Eden." "You know very little about me, Mr. Morton." "I know that." She smiled and looked pleased in spite of herself. "I think I'll let you stay till--till to-morrow," she said, with an arch side glance; then added, with a laugh, "What nonsense we are talking! As if you had not as good a right to be here as I have." "I beg your pardon. I spoke in downright sincerity. You found this quiet place first. In a large hotel, all kinds of people can meet almost as they do on Broadway; but here we must dwell together as one family, and I feel that I have no right to force on you any association without your leave, especially as you are here alone. In a certain sense I introduce myself, and compel you to meet me socially without your permission. You may have formed a very different plan for your summer's rest." "It is rather rare for a music-teacher to receive so much consideration. It bewilders me a little." "Pardon me. I soon discovered that you possessed woman's highest rank." "Indeed! Am I a princess in disguise?" "You are more than many princesses have been--a lady. And, as I said before, you are here alone." She turned and looked at me intently, and I felt that if I had not been sincere she would have known it. It was a peculiar and, I eventually learned, a characteristic act. I am now inclined to think that she saw the precise attitude of my mind and feeling toward her; but my awakening interest was as far removed from curiosity as is our natural desire to have a melody completed, the opening strains of which are captivating. Her face quickly lost its aspect of grave scrutiny, and she looked away, with a slight accession of color. "Do you want to stay very much?" she asked. "Miss Warren," I exclaimed, and my expression must have been eager and glad, "you looked at me then as you would at a doubtful stranger, and your glance was searching. You looked as only a woman can--as one who would see her way rather than reason it out. Now tell me in sincerity what you saw." "You know from my manner what I saw," she said, smiling and blushing slightly. "No, I only hoped; I have not a woman's eyesight." She bit her lip, contracted her wide, low brow for a moment, then turned and said frankly: "I did not mean to be rude in my rather direct glance. Even though a music-teacher, I have had compliments before, and I have usually found them as empty and insincere as the people who employed them. I am somewhat alone in the world, Mr. Morton, and I belong to that class of timid and rather helpless creatures whose safety lies in their readiness to run to cover. I have found truth the best cover for me, situated as I am. I aim to be just what I seem--neither more nor less; and I am very much afraid of people who do not speak the truth, especially when they are disposed to say nice things." "And you saw?"