to-day no partial shadows lay under the black, shading lashes; the
exhilarating scene, the rapidly succeeding events, the turbulence and
flutter around her, were calculated to dispel the most pronounced
abstraction. Beneath a protecting parasol--for the sunlight shot below
the roof at the back and touched that part of the grand stand--a faint
glow warmed her cheeks, while her eyes shone with the gladness of the
moment. Many of the dandies, regarding her with marked persistency,
asked who she was, and none knew, until finally Editor-Rhymster Straws
was appealed to. Straws, informed on all matters, was able to satisfy
his questioners.

"She is an actress," said Straws. "So we are told. We shall find out
next week. She is a beauty. We can tell that now."

"You're right, Straws!" exclaimed a pitch-and-toss youngster. "If she
shows as well at the wire--"

"You'd take a long chance on her winning?" laughed the philosopher.

"I'll play you odds on it!" cried the juvenile. "Four to one, damme!
I'll risk that on her eyes."

"Four to one on a lady's eyes, child! Say forty to one, and take the
hazard of the die."

Standing near the rhymster, story-writer and journalist, was a tall
young man, dressed in creole fashion. He followed the glances of
Straws' questioners and a pallor overspread his dark complexion as he
looked at the object of their attention.

"The stroller!" he exclaimed half audibly. "Her counterpart doesn't
exist."

He stepped back where he could see her more plainly. In that sea of
faces, her features alone shone before him, clearly, insistently.

"Do you know her, Mr. Mauville?" asked the rhymster, observing that
steadfast glance.

"Know her?" repeated the land baron, starting. "Oh, I've seen her
act."

"Tip me off her points and I'll tip my readers."

"She is going to play here then?" said the patroon.

"Yes. What is she like? Does tragedy or comedy favor her most?
You see," he added apologetically, "when people begin to talk
about anybody, we Grubstreet hacks thrive on the gossip. It is
deplorable"--with regret--"but small talk and tattle bring more
than a choice lyric or sonnet. And, heaven help us!"--shaking his
head--"what a vendible article a fine scandal is! It sells fast,
like goods at a Dutch auction. Penny a line? More nearly six
pence! If I could only bring myself to deal in such merchandise!
If I were only a good rag picker, instead of a bad poet!" And Straws
walked away, forgetting th