she began to leap for joy, kissing her brother Fouad and saying:

"A thousand thanks, Fouad! The coming of the artist Samir on my birthday is the most precious gift I shall receive this year! But I beg you not to introduce me to him as a violinist, for that might throw me into confusion."

Fouad answered her calmly:

"...Why not, Randa? Is it any cause for shame or confusion that you should be a musician? Samir knows things and yet more things about you, and he is delighted to make your acquaintance. And know from this moment that you shall play before him his latest piece, 'Without Hope.'"

"No! No, Fouad! Do not ask me to play a new piece before its composer. I am certain that my playing before him would be poor. So I beg you, leave me the pleasure of meeting him this time, and I promise to let him hear my violin playing later on."

Fouad answered, smiling, for he was proud of his sister and her gifts:

"We shall see, my dear... we shall see."

Randa awaited the day of her party with burning impatience, that she might enjoy shaking the hand of the great artist whom she knew through his melodies and through what she had read and heard of him. The clock struck six on the day of the party and Samir had not come; Randa felt the sting of disappointment—the disappointment of the great hope she had nourished with her soul and her wishes for four whole days—and she appeared before the guests lost to the world, bewildered... But Randa's anxiety did not last long, for sharp applause announced to her the entrance of the artist Samir. She turned her gaze toward the entrance and saw an elegant lady followed by a slender young man whose face bore a cast of dignity and gravity. Randa's mother advanced toward them in welcome, took her daughter's hand, and presented her to the artist with these words:

"..May I present to you, Ustad,

my daughter Randa, one of the admirers of your lofty art; she plays some of your pieces well, I believe."

Samir replied, shaking her hand:

"The honor is mine to make your acquaintance, Miss, and I have a request which I hope will find your acceptance: that I may hear you play the violin this evening."

"With great pleasure—but after the guests have gone, if you permit."

So answered Randa, looking at the ground for fear her eye should fall upon his radiant face; then she greeted his wife and returned to her friends, flustered. And why flustered? Because she had now seen the man of her dreams, so she had every right to feel trembling and agitation!! And Samir likewise... he was not merely stirred at the sight of Randa; he was captivated by her pure beauty, by the gleam of her lustrous eyes, and he did not withdraw until late in the evening—after he had let them hear some of his pieces, and after he had heard the piece "Without Hope," which the budding musician played for him with skill. Her harmonious, mellow playing astonished him, and his admiration was great for the power of her ear, for she had been able to remember the passages of a piece as long as "Without Hope." Samir offered his congratulations to the girl and her family before leaving the house, and proposed to them that he come himself twice a week to give her just ten finishing lessons. The family accepted the proposal with thanks, and counted it a great honor. As for Randa, she resolved to redouble her musical efforts so as to win Samir's admiration and approval—not knowing that she was the "sister soul" he had so long sought and sung of...

A sincere affection reigned over the atmosphere of the lessons, drawing the two artists together and making them forget themselves and the passing of the hours; more than once Randa's

mother was obliged to come in upon them to tell her that it was past one o'clock and time for lunch had come!

And one morning, Samir came as usual, overflowing with life and energy, and at the end of the seventh lesson, which he tried to make short, he took the hand of his innocent pupil and kissed it with longing and tenderness. Randa was at a loss—indeed she was alarmed at this sudden gesture from her teacher; but he began to picture to her his burning torments, then said in a quavering voice:

"Randa, my idol! I cannot hide from you my great love, for I have surrendered to it! O bride of my poetry, wellspring of my revela-tion and my inspiration—since the day I came to know you I have felt myself changed in mind and spirit, created anew; how then can I think of our lessons ending soon?"

The girl was stunned and remained rooted in her place without motion; then she drew her hand quietly from Samir's hands, and after moving a little away she said, her voice touched with the hoarseness of emotion:

"What are you saying, Ustad? And what then? You are far from reality, in a world of illusions! Do you not think of your children? Have you forgotten your wife? I love you and esteem you greatly, but... not in the sense that you understand."

Then she said in a less severe tone:

"I think you are tired this morning; please go and rest—and until Wednesday, if you wish."

"I shall come Wednesday without fail, and I beg you not to be so cruel with me. Think a little, Randa, and forgive me if I was hasty with this confession. I could not keep silent while I was at your side and something heavy was pressing upon my breast. Forgive me, and until we meet again soon."

Randa followed her teacher to the outer door, then went up to her room to set free the tears she had held captive, having reined them in before him.