"I'm a beast to stand here staring," he murmured, as she moved leisurely towards her window, apparently unconscious of him. "It's a shame," he added, "that we don't know each other! I'm going to the Park; I wish you were--I want you to go--because it would do you good! You must go!" Her left glove was now buttoned; the right gave her some difficulty, which she started to overcome with a hair-pin. "If mental persuasion can do it, you and I are going to meet under the wistaria arbor in the Park," he said, with emphasis. To concentrate his thoughts he stood rigid, thinking as hard as a young man can think with a distractingly pretty girl fastening her glove opposite; and the effort produced a deep crease between his eyebrows. "You--are--going--to--the--wistaria--arbor--in--the Park!" he repeated, solemnly. She turned as though she had heard, and looked straight at him. Her face was bright with color; never had he seen such fresh beauty in a human face. Her eyes wandered from him upward to the serene blue sky; then she stepped back, glanced into the mirror, touched her hair with the tips of her gloved fingers, and walked away, disappearing into the gloom of the room. An astonishing sense of loneliness came over him--a perfectly unreasonable feeling, because every day for months he had seen her disappear from the window, always viewing the phenomenon with disinterested equanimity. "Now I don't for a moment suppose she's going to the wistaria arbor," he said, mournfully, walking towards his door. But all the way down in the elevator and out on the street he was comforting himself with stories of strange coincidences; of how, sometimes, walking alone and thinking of a person he had not seen or thought of for years, raising his eyes he had met that person face to face. And a presentiment that he should meet his neighbor under the wistaria arbor grew stronger and stronger, until, as he turned into the broad, southeastern entrance to the Park, his heart began beating an uneasy, expectant tattoo under his starched white waist-coat. "I've been smoking too many cigarettes," he muttered. "Things like that don't happen. It would be too silly--" And it was rather silly; but she was there. He saw her the moment he entered the wistaria arbor, seated in a rustic recess. It may be that she was reading the book she held so unsteadily in her small, gloved fingers, but the book was upside down. And when his footstep echoed on the asphalt, she raised a pair of thoroughly frightened eyes. [Illustration: "HE SAW HER THE MOMENT HE ENTERED THE WISTARIA ARBOR"] His expression verged on the idiotic; they were a scared pair, and it was only when the bright flush of guilt flooded her face that he recovered his senses in a measure and took off his hat. "I--I hadn't the slightest notion that you would come," he stammered. "This is the--the most amazing example of telepathy I ever heard of!" "Telepathy?" she repeated, faintly.