Slowly I advanced; and diffidently placed myself in her path. At first she did not seem to see me, but in an instant, almost as though she had been expecting some one, her gaze was lifted to meet mine; and no surprise was marked there, nor any trace of annoyance, only an unlooked-for pleasure. In low, musical tones, and with grace that to me seemed goddess-like, she murmured “Good morning,” while such a lovely and unmatched light shone in her eyes and such transfiguring inner radiance illumined her features, that I felt that I had encountered an immortal. “Good morning,” I replied, in the native dialect, and at the cost of greater effort than I would have cared to admit; and I shuddered inwardly lest I give her cause for laughter. She smiled charmingly, and was about to pass on, when in desperation I strove to detain her. “I beg your pardon,” said I, stiffly, speaking almost by rote in phrases I had memorized days before. “I beg your pardon, but have you a minute to spare? There are one or two questions I should like very much to ask you.” * * * * * For an instant she stared at me in transparent surprise. But a smile played lightly about the corners of her mouth, and apparently she was not offended. “Why, of course, you may ask any question you want,” she replied, more puzzled than annoyed. And, pointing down the colonnade to a circular marble bench enclosed by a ring of slender columns, she continued, “Let us go over there. Then we can talk, if you wish.” In silence we traversed the intervening two or three hundred yards. My heart was so full that I could not have spoken had I desired; I could scarcely credit my double good fortune in having won this lady’s good will and in speaking well enough to be understood by her. And when at length I found myself seated at her side, her vivid blue eyes looking inquiringly and yet kindly into my own, I felt as one who enters the land of dreams come true. It was with difficulty that I answered when, in low, sweet tones, she asked me what it was that I desired to know; and when the first words came to me, they were forced out only by an effort of the will, for I should much have preferred to sit there in silence, staring and staring at her animated lovely face, her sharp-cut classic profile and symmetrically modelled features. But, unfortunately, the laws of human intercourse demanded that I do more than gaze at her in speechless rapture. And I answered her question, therefore, with one or two commonplace remarks which expressed nothing of the exaltation within me, and which could have conveyed no high opinion of my intelligence. “I am a stranger in this land,” said I, picking my words with a translator’s care, “and so find many things here which perplex me. I was wondering whether you would not be good enough to help me. Am I imposing too much upon your kindness?”