color and design. As in the dining-room, one side of the apartment was entirely thrown open; so that it formed, as it were, a mere recess from the veranda. Guided by the insight already acquired, I could make a fair guess at the purpose of most of the furniture; though its appearance was, in most cases, extremely diverse from that of corresponding objects in our time. A chessboard alone seemed to greet me as an old familiar friend. That, at least, was not affected by the mutations of so many centuries. The pieces were so slightly altered in form as to be readily identified.
Esna, seeing me thus employed, good-naturedly challenged me. I accepted, not unwilling to discover what changes, if any, had taken place in the laws of the game. These I found to be of such minor importance as rarely to cause me embarrassment. My youthful antagonist opened with the Muzio Gambit, and played a surprisingly good game for her years. She was no match, however, for one of the best players of the Philidor. She looked up in surprise after studying my tenth move, and was mated after a few more.
"Ialma!" she exclaimed to her aunt, who happened to be passing, "Ismar plays much better than I,—almost as well as Olav."
Olav was Ialma's betrothed. Though five thousand miles away, he enjoyed the privilege of an hour's conversation with her every day by means of the telephone. They also carried on a game of chess, a move every day. According to the prevailing custom, both players were allowed to accept assistance from any acknowledged source. This both lessened the pain of defeat, and led
