my shoulder, whispered, "Are you come as a spectator only, dear Mr. Jones, or do you join in our custom tonight?" 

 "I came only as a bystander, lady, but the fascination of the opportunity is deadly—" 

 "And have you any preference?"—this in the softest little voice from somewhere in the nape of my neck.  "Strangers sometimes say there are fair women in Seth." 

 "None—till you came; and now, as was said a long time ago, 'All is dross that is not Helen.'  Dearest lady," I ran on, detaining her by the fingertips and gazing up into those shy and star-like eyes, "must I indeed put all the hopes your kindness has roused in me these last few days to a shuffle in yonder urn, taking my chance with all these lazy fellows? In that land whereof I was, we would not have had it so, we loaded our dice in these matters, a strong man there might have a willing maid though all heaven were set against him! But give me leave, sweet lady, and I will ruffle with these fellows; give me a glance and I will barter my life for your billet when it is drawn, but to stand idly by and see you won by a cold chance, I cannot do it." 

 That lady laughed a little and said, "Men make laws, dear Jones, for women to keep. It is the rule, and we must not break it."  Then, gently tugging at her imprisoned fingers and gathering up her skirts to go, she added, "But it might happen that wit here were better than sword." Then she hesitated, and freeing herself at last slipped from my side, yet before she was quite gone half turned again and whispered so low that no one but I could hear it, "A golden pool, and a silver fish, and a line no thicker than a hair!" and before I could beg a meaning of her, had passed down the hall and taken a place with the other expectant damsels. 

 "A golden pool," I said to myself, "a silver fish, and a line of hair." What could she mean? Yet that she meant something, and something clearly of importance, I could not doubt.  "A golden pool, and a silver fish—" I buried my chin in my chest and thought deeply but without effect while the preparations were made and the fateful urn, each maid having slipped her name tablet within, was brought down to us, covered in a beautiful web of rose-coloured tissue, and commenced its round, passing slowly from hand to hand as each of those handsome, impassive, fawn-eyed gallants lifted a corner of the web in turn and helped themselves to fate. 

 "A golden pool," I muttered, "and a silver fish"—so absorbed in my own thoughts I hardly 

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