Alex. Mcveigh Miller

"How fast the river flows! How it roars in my ears and drowns the sound of your voice, my dearest!

"How do you do, Mr. Devereaux

But she hated her toilsome life more than ever as she followed Roma along the richly carpeted halls to a splendid dressing room, where the beauty sank into a cushioned chair, haughtily ordering the box to be ope

meager midday luncheon,

to faint. Oh, I love him!" and she wept despairingly

breaking up their delightful tête-à-tête

How foolish it seems for poor girls to be pretty

insinuating some fault against my darling.

burst an uncontrollable shriek of dismay and remonstrance

she sank into a restless sleep, troubled with dreams in which her hero's magnetic, dark eyes played the principal part—dreams so sweet that she grieved when the cold gray light of dawn glimmered