“But you, Miss Berkeley, were there. My cousin Ahlberg saw you. He praised you. He complimented you. ‘I have often seen that face,’ he said. ‘There are some faces which one remembers even in the whirl of the greatest cities. I drive around the Bois de Boulogne--once--twice--three times. I speak to a hundred friends. I see a thousand faces. They pass before me like shadows of the night. One face strikes me. It rises like a star from out the sea. Ah, I exclaim, ‘here is another photograph for my mental portrait gallery.’” Neither the Colonel nor Olivia was fully prepared to accept Ahlberg. Consequently, Madame Koller’s remark was received with a cool smile by Olivia--and a sniff by the Colonel. But Mr. Cole was quite carried away by Madame Koller’s declamatory manner, and her really beautiful voice. “What a gift of tongues,” he said. “Madame Koller, if a--er--public speaker--a religious instructor had your felicity of expression--” “I trust,” answered Madame, “some time to have the pleasure of hearing _your_ felicity of expression. I am not what you call a Christian. I believe in a system of ultimate good--a philosophy if you will--” “Yes, yes,” cordially chimed in Colonel Berkeley with something dangerously like a wink, “I knew Madame, as soon as I saw you that you believed in a system. It’s very useful and elastic and philosophic.” Madame playfully waved her hand at the colonel, and turned to Mr. Cole. “We will be friends, nevertheless,” she said with a captivating smile. “I will visit your church in the morning, and you will return to luncheon with me, and we will have a little game of billiards afterward.” Mr. Cole’s delicate face grew ashy. He, John Chrysostom Cole, playing billiards on Sunday! What would his mother say--and what would the bishop say! Olivia looked a little shocked because of course Madame Koller must know better. Not so the Colonel. He laughed heartlessly at Mr. Cole, and began to think Eliza Peyton was a more amusing person than he had fancied. “Madame Koller,” began Mr. Cole solemnly after a moment, “your long absence from this country--your unfamiliarity with clergymen perhaps--and with the American Sabbath--” “Oh, yes, I remember the American Sabbath very well,” replied Madame Koller laughing and raising her eyebrows. “My aunt, Mrs. Peyton, always took me to church with her, and I had to listen to Dr. Steptoe’s sermons. Oh those sermons! However,” she added, turning her expressive eyes full on Mr. Cole. “I know, I _know_ yours must be very different. Well, I will go. And forgive me, if I sometimes shock you--forgive and pity me.” Mr. Cole thought that only a heart of stone could have hardened against that pretty appeal. And the widow was so deliciously charming with her half-foreign manner and her whole-foreign look. But billiards on Sunday!