The chair opposite me remained unfilled, but each course was served at the cover as scrupulously as though the Lady Allegra were actually present. It made me feel a trifle uncomfortable at the first--the sight of that vacant chair set back a little from the table, the napkin half unfolded, the full wineglasses, the plate with its untouched food. And once, when the foot-man offered the cauliflower to my invisible vis-a-vis, it seemed as though she declined it. The man hesitated a second and then passed on without putting a portion on the plate. For the moment I was foolish enough to contemplate a similar refusal, but I reconsidered--I am very fond of cauliflower. At the conclusion of dinner I took my cigar into the red drawing-room. The lights had been lowered, and only the opalescent bull's-eye glowed with undiminished brilliancy. I sat staring at it, and the outrageous perplexity of the situation began to get on my nerves. I must get out of here, and I half rose. Then I sank back, forgetting everything but that marvellous voice. Again the Lady Allegra was singing, and could I doubt that it was for me! David's "Charmant Oiseau," and then the gay little gavotte from "Manon." What an astonishing repertoire--Chaminade, Schumann, Grieg, Richard Strauss. Finally Schubert, and Schubert only, the last and the best given, as it is meet, to him who is the master of all. The rainbow-tinted orb of the wall mirror continued to hold my eyes; they drooped and fell as the radiance grew fainter and yet fainter. When I awoke Red-Fez was standing at the bedside, hot-water can in hand. "Morning, sar," he said, with gentle affability. "Will you permit me to shaver you?" I jumped out of bed and went to the window. It was closed, although a ventilator at the top admitted plenty of the outside air, and the glass was of the opaque bull's-eye variety through which it is impossible to see. I tried to throw up the sash, but it would not budge. I submitted in silence to the ministrations of Red-Fez, not choosing to enter into any discussion with a servant. But I was sorely tempted to protest when he proceeded to array me in an extraordinary robe of cardinal silk in lieu of the ordinary masculine habiliments. Certainly I could not leave the house enveloped in this ridiculous garment. My dress clothes would have been bad enough, but there was no trace of them to be seen. Evidently I should have to call Dr. Gonzales to account, and having descended to the now familiar red drawing-room, I sent Red-Fez with a request for an immediate audience. A few minutes later he appeared. "Am I a prisoner here?" I asked, abruptly. "You await the Lady Allegra's pleasure," he answered, imperturbably. "She is still indisposed. Possibly by to-night, but I cannot say definitely." "I do not wish--" "Chut!" he interrupted, irritably. "It is a matter not of your wishes but of her will. That is inevitable. Can you not understand?"