'My presentiment, in this case, was the man in the moon!' said Mrs. Maybold, laughing. 'Do you remember, love,' she added, handing the drawing to her husband, 'my telling you, on a certain evening, that I had made a study of a certain face, and that I would show it you some time? Well, the time has come!' 'I never was so good-looking as that,' said Mrs. Maybold's husband, with a sigh. 'However, no one will ever be able to compare your presentiment with the reality, for the former disappeared at the moment of my introduction to him.' And hereupon I told my tale. 'Do you regret him?' I asked, when it was finished. 'If you had told me this five years ago, I might have felt relieved by it,' said Mrs. Maybold, after a moment's reflection. 'As it is, the news does not affect me one way or the other.' * * * * * I shall not easily forgive my friend Mr. Edward Kemeys, the animal-sculptor, for depriving me of the right of claiming undivided credit for this story. He suggested the main idea, and some of the best details. As told by him, they seemed to me both poetic and powerful. If my version impresses the reader otherwise, it is my fault. I should regret that Mr. Kemeys had not treated the subject himself, were I not familiar with his genius as embodied in clay and bronze. If I could be the author of his 'Deer and Panther' or 'Bison and Wolves,' which had the place of honour at the Paris Salon this year, I would willingly forego the renown of a better story than I ever expect to write. _Spottiswoode & Co., Printers, New-street Square, London._ * * * * * [Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent hyphenation left as printed.]