This remark afforded me an opening of which I at once availed myself. While 1 spoke, the music of the morning concert was not entirely shut off, but only to such an extent as to reach us in subdued tones. It happened, by a strange coincidence, that the music was that of a celebrated drama founded on the story of Metis, and thus served the more appropriately as a background to my narration. The story of my early love for, engagement to, and breach with, Edith Alston, was listened to with absorbed attention. This was especially the case with Reva, to whom the story, now looked forward to for so many hours, was of special personal interest. Was not this the Edith upon whose personality her imagination. had been dwelling since that eventful occasion? As I went on to tell of the strange attraction exercised on me, from the first, by Reva's face, voice, and manner, of my distinct recognition of her, at last, as the exact counterpart of the Edith of my story, Hulmar, too, beginning to see whither all this tended, followed me with eager, almost excited attention. I could well see that he was of my opinion when I finally stated my firm persuasion of the identity of the Reva of the present with the Edith of so long ago.
"I am convinced," was his comment, when I had ended; "and you, Reva?"
"I, too, am convinced," was Reva's reply, uttered in a tone barely audible, almost as if speaking to herself. She then rose, as if about to leave us: it was time for her to go. But taking her stand beside her father, with her hand upon his shoulder, a favorite attitude with her in moments of confidence, she went on, "I must now tell
