I stared at her harder than was polite, thinking that she was quite the type of a pretty American lady of the upper class. After a moment or two she became conscious of my fixed gaze, and, raising her eyes from her book, she looked steadily at me for a short time. Then, apparently satisfied with my appearance, a bright smile came to her face and she shot a saucy glance at me, at the same time making a motion with her hand inviting me to come and sit beside her.

I was rather astonished, as I had not thought from her appearance that she was one of the demi-monde; but I was quite willing to have a chat with her-and also to poke her, if her conversation pleased me as much as her looks.

Rising from my seat, I went over to her, and she at once drew aside her voluminous skirts so as to make room for me on the bench beside her. I seated myself and we began to talk.

She spoke grammatically and in an educated manner, and, though she had the American accent, her voice was low and musical-(I do not dislike the American accent when I hear it on the lips of a pretty woman)-and she certainly was a pretty woman. Her eyes were large, clear and blue, her complexion was extremely good, her teeth were white and regular, her nose was well-shaped and she had a small mouth with red lips.

She had plenty to say for herself, chatting away merrily and using quaint expressions that made me laugh. I took quite a fancy to the lively little woman, so I made up my mind to see her home and spend the night with her.

She had at once noticed by my accent that I was an Englishman, and she informed me that she never before had spoken to a man of my nationality. After we had chatted for some time, I asked her to dine with me. She seemed pleased at my invitation, and at once accepted it so we strolled quietly out of the park to a restaurant where I ordered a good dinner with champagne.