twanged the
guitar, she the princess whose fair shoulder shone through the lace at
the balcony window. They lived and moved before my very eyes. I knew the
unseen places beyond the painted mountains, and saw the secret things
the artists only dreamed of. Doves cooed for me from the clumps of
thorn; the clouds sailed in pearly serenity across the skies, their
shadows mottling mountain, hill, and plain; and out from behind every
bole, and through every leafy screen, glimpsed white dryads and fleeing
fays.

Clearly the convention hall was no place for me. "Hang the speech of the
temporary chairman, anyhow!" thought I; "and as for the platform, let it
point with pride, and view with apprehension, to its heart's content; it
is sure to omit all reference to the overshadowing issue of the
day--Alice!"

All the world loves a lover, and a true lover loves all the
world,--especially that portion of it similarly blessed. So, when I
heard a girl's voice alternating in intimate converse with that of a
man, my sympathies went out to them, and I turned silently to look. They
must have come in during my reverie; for I had passed the place where
they were sitting and had not seen them. There was a piece of grillwork
between my station and theirs, through which I could see them plainly.
The gallery had seemed deserted when I went in, and still seemed so,
save for the two voices.

Hers was low and calm, but very earnest; and there was in it some
inflection or intonation which reminded me of the country girls I had
known on the farm and at school. His was of a peculiarly sonorous and
vibrant quality, its every tone so clear and distinct that it would have
been worth a fortune to a public speaker. Such a voice and enunciation
are never associated with any mind not strong in the qualities of
resolution and decision.

On looking at her, I saw nothing countrified corresponding to the voice.
She was dressed in something summery and cool, and wore a sort of
flowered blouse, the presence of which was explained by the easel before
which she sat, and the palette through which her thumb protruded. She
had laid down her brush, and the young man was using her mahlstick in a
badly-directed effort to smear into a design some splotches of paint on
the unused portion of her canvas.

He was by some years her senior, but both were young--she, very young.
He was swarthy of complexion, and his smoothly-shaven, square-set jaw
and full red lips were blu