Mr. Allen came to the Hotel de Russe to pay a farewell call on us. I was such a lovely evening that I asked Mrs. McKesson if I could go out and sit in the garden. She allowed this, saying that this would not be too cool. A full moon cast lights and shadows over the terraced garden. Water from a pip on the top terrace dropped into a small pool and then to other pools in the lower terraces. The tinkling sound added charm to the evening. We walked about the paths and then sat down on a carved stone bench near the hotel. We talked about the scenes and places we had most in Egypt. Mr. Allen told me he had bought a beautiful mummy case containing a carefully wrapped mummy and had ordered it sent to his home in London. I told him about the preparations St. Louis was making for the World's Fair and he spoke wistfully of his interest in it. I may have suggested that he should come to the Fair. His are had been resting on the back of the bench and he reached around my shoulder, pulling me toward him, and tried to kiss me. I repulsed him quickly. He asked me why and said it just seemed to fit the perfect evening we had spent together. I told him that I was not the kissing kind and that my kisses would be saved for the man I hoped to marry. We returned to the drawing room so he could say farewell to the McKessons. We promised to write to each other. Next morning a bunch of exquisite variegated carnations came with a charming note from my English friend. If my careful chaperone felt that a visit in our garden would be less romantic than a trip to the Coliseum she was mistaken. It was early spring with fragrant flower and moonlight, and I had spent an hour or more with the interesting, highly cultured man I had ever met.
Our two friends left next day for London. We soon went to Paris where we spent about a week. In Paris there was a letter and a light package from Mr. Allen containing a photograph of his portrait. He had told me about the portrait had had painted by Lembach, a noted German artist. I had told him of my efforts at portrait painting and he had promised to send a photograph of his portrait. It was that of a younger man, still a good likeness – a copy of a beautiful painting. I kept it for many years but when my engagement was announced mother told me to destroy it. I think she did this. In the letter Mr. Allen suggested that I ask the McKessons to let me come to London for a day or two to see his house and the portrait. He said his trusted housekeeper and the mummy would chaperone me. Needless to say me dear friends refused this.