hear. Hundreds of dollars of gold were tossed up to her,
whilst she smilingly complied with all their requests.

"One more," they shouted, "only one more, and her slippers shall be
filled with gold dust." She slipped out of her little sandals and stood,
blushing modestly, hiding her silken feet under her long, wide skirts.

"You are very kind to a lonely stranger," she called, to an instantly
silenced audience, "and I will sing for you a song which has but lately
come from London. 'Tis from a new opera called the Bohemian Girl,
composed by Master Balfe," and folding her little hands before her, she
sang sweetly, "Then You'll Remember Me."

"When other lips and other hearts their tales of love shall tell Of days
that have as happy been, and you'll remember--you'll remember me."

"Dick, why do you cover your eyes? You are surely not asleep?"

"By all the Gods, man, the accusation is an insult," with a haughty
flash of his great eyes.

"You are to be presented; have you forgotten?"

"Forgotten! While life lasts, I shall remember this night."

"Hush, this is the last. She is singing, 'Home, Sweet Home'."

"Yes, 'Home,' for these wanderers from all over the earth. See how
silently they file out."

"There is many a tear among them. They will lie, tonight on memory's
couch of sad dreams."

"You are wrong, my friend," said Dick bitterly; "they are more like
to hasten down to the gambling hells to kill the visions memory would
recall."

* * * * *

"Sweet Bird, you cannot believe this thing of me!" The Singer-Lady
raised her bright head from Dick's shoulder, and met, steadfastly, his
passionately adoring eyes.

"Richard, how can you for one moment doubt me? I know you to be good
and true. Were you not exonerated from the last accusation of which you
informed me before you asked for my hand in marriage. And do we not know
that this man is actuated by the motive of jealousy?"

"The Mormon beast! He knows well that I did not steal his mule."

"No' naughty boy," tapping him playfully with her fan, "'Twas something
else you stole from Master Crow the woman he wanted. Often have I
noticed on the streets how all women, every one, turn to look after
you."

"I cared not for her." He shook his tall and beautiful head, impatient
of the silky black lock which fell across his forehead.

"Perhaps then 'tis your magnificent carriage they would admire," laughed
the girl, teasingly.

Dick swept her close to his heart. "My