She shook her head, and there was a shadow over the brightness of her face. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “But I have enjoyed talking again with some one who knows and loves the best in art. After all,” she added with a note of determination, almost of defiance, “there is no reason why I shouldn’t sometime.” “Then I may look for you again?” I asked. She nodded as she moved out across the porch. “If you’ll promise to sell me any print I may choose. Good-by. And thank you so much, Mr. Sedgwick!” She held out her hand. It was a hand for a sculptor to model, as beautiful and full of character as her face. (_Comment by C. K._: _Bosh!_) Afterward I remembered that never again in our friendship did I see it ungloved. (_Comment by C. K._: _“Bosh” retracted. Some observation in that!_) “Au revoir, then,” I said; “but you have the advantage of me, you see. I don’t know what to call you at all.” She hesitated; then, with a little soft quiver of her eyelids, which I afterward learned to identify as an evidence of amusement, said, “Daw is a nice name, don’t you think?” (_Comment by C. K._: _False name, of course; but highly probable first name is Marjorie._) “By the way, what time is it?” “Quarter to five, Miss Daw.” She smiled at the name. “King Cole will have to do his best, if I am to be back for dinner. Good-by.” (_Comment by C. K._: _Good! The place where she is staying is a good way off, assuming a seven-thirty dinner-hour; say twelve to fifteen miles._) That was the first of many visits, of days that grew in radiance for me. It isn’t necessary for me to tell you, Kent, how in our talks I came to divine in her a spirit as wistful and pure as her face. You do not want a love story from me; yet that is what it was for me almost from the first. Not openly, though. There was that about her which held me at arms’ length: the mystery of her, her quickly-given trust in me, a certain strained look that came into her face, like the startled attention of a wild thing poised for flight, whenever I touched upon the personal note. Not that I ever questioned her. That was the understanding between us: that I should leave to her her _incognita_ without effort to penetrate it.