As she saw him now in the doorway, she rather hoped that he wouldn’t come and speak to her at all; but the hope was vain, for, without apparently seeing her, he made his way through the room, at the cessation of the dance, and held out his ungloved hand for hers. It is in one of George MacDonald’s stories that Curdie, the hero, tests everyone he meets by a hand-clasp, which unconsciously reveals the true nature to his magic sense; claws and paws and hoofs and the serpent’s writhe are plain to him. Since the walk in the darkness, Dosia involuntarily tested the feeling of palm to palm by the hand that had held hers then; the dreaming yet deep conviction was strong within her that some day she would meet and recognize her helper by that remembered touch, if in no other way. Mr. Barr’s hand was smooth, with long fingers, and a lingering, intimate clasp. Dosia drew hers away quickly, with a flush on her cheek, and then felt, as she met his coolly appraising eyes, that she had done something school-girlish and ill-bred. “You did not come to see me, after all,” she said, when the first greeting was over, and could have bitten out her tongue for saying it. “I regretted very much not being able to,” he replied, in a tone of conventional politeness. “I went West the next day, and have only just returned. You have been enjoying yourself, I hope?” “Oh, immensely,” said Dosia, with exaggerated emphasis; “I couldn’t have had a better time, possibly.” Her eyes roved toward the people in front of them with studied inattention, although she was strangely conscious in every tingling fiber of the presence of the man by her side. “You have been to town, I suppose?” he pursued. “Yes, indeed, several times.” “Would you care to come out in the corridor and walk?” he asked abruptly, as the music struck up again. “I’m not in evening dress, you see; I only returned from my trip half an hour ago. Or would you prefer to dance?” he added. “Oh, I prefer to dance!” said Dosia, with the first natural inflection her voice had possessed in speaking to him. “Then I will ask you to excuse me. I see Billy Snow coming over for you. Good night.” “You are not going to leave _now_?” exclaimed Dosia, with disappointment too quick to be concealed. “In a few moments; I may not see you again.” He did not offer his hand this time, but bowed and was gone.