"One night in August there was a big dance on at one of the hotels, and I wanted a gown which should outshine all the others--the ball was to be given for the benefit of a local chanty, and all the cottage colony would attend. I sent an order for a gown to my dressmaker, and she shipped out a strange and wonderful creation. It was an imported affair--you know the kind--with a bodice of a string of jet and a wisp of lace--with a tulle tunic, and a skirt of gold brocade that was so tight about my feet that it had the effect of Turkish trousers. For my head she sent a strip of gold gauze which was to be swathed around and around my hair in a sort of nun's coif, so that only a little knot could show at the back and practically none in front. It was the last cry in fashions. It made me look like a dream from the Arabian Nights, and I liked it." She laughed, and, in spite of himself, Porter laughed with her. "I wore it to the dance, and it was there that I met Colin Quale. I wish I could make you see the scene--the great ballroom, and all the other women staring at me as I came in--and the men, smiling. "I was in my element. I thought, in those days, that the test of charm was to hold the eyes of the multitude. To-day I know that it is to hold the eyes of the elect, and it is Colin who has taught me. "I had danced with a dozen other men when he came up to claim me. I scarcely remembered that I had promised him a dance. When he was presented to me I had only been aware of a pale little man with eye-glasses and nervous hands who had stared at me rather too steadily. "We danced in silence for several minutes and he danced divinely. "He stopped suddenly. 'Let's get out of here,' he said. 'I want to talk to you.' "I looked at him in amazement. 'But I want to dance.' "'You can always dance,' he said, quietly, 'but you cannot always talk to me.' "There was nothing in his manner to indicate the preliminaries of a flirtation. He was perfectly serious and he evidently thought that he was offering me a privilege. Curiosity made me follow him, and he led the way down the hall to a secluded reception room where there was a long mirror, a little table, and a big bunch of old-fashioned roses in a bowl. "On our way we passed a row of chairs, where some one had left a wrap and a scarf. Colin snatched up the scarf--it was a long wide one of white chiffon. The next morning I returned it to him, and he found the owner. I am not sure what explanation he made for his theft, but it was undoubtedly attributed to the eccentricities of genius! "Well, when, as I said, we reached the little room, he pulled a chair forward for me, so that I sat directly in front of the mirror. "I remember that I surveyed myself complacently. To my deluded eyes, my appearance could not be improved. My head, swathed in its golden coif, seemed to give the final perfect touch."