rtment of newspaper literature, but all according her the most
exalted merit. The tragedies involving the intense domestic affections
were those she had selected for her _roles_. Romeo and Juliet, Evadne,
Douglas, Venice Preserved, and others of that class, were mentioned. The
critics, however, devoted their most enthusiastic encomiums to her
performance of Imogen in Shakspeare's Cymbeline, a version of which, it
seems, she had herself adapted. The reproduction of this piece, which
had vanished from the modern _repertoire_, attracted marked attention.
Her rendering of 'Imogen'--was pronounced superb.

The papers also made passing allusions to her personal beauty. Soon
paragraphs appeared concerning the attentions of Lord A---- and the Earl
of B---- to her; of the infatuation of certain members of the various
diplomatic corps. Young men of fashion were reported as throwing to her
bouquets containing diamonds; others sent horses and carriages to her
residence, with requests for her acceptance. One paper alluded
maliciously to the fact that a certain antiquated nobleman had given her
a New Year's present of _bon bons_, every 'sugared particle' being
folded in a five-pound Bank of England note. The paper added some rough
witticism, and informed the nobleman that his 'assiduities' would be
ineffectual, saying that 'the lady, with true Yankee shrewdness, accepts
all offerings at her shrine, but confers no favors in return.'

So the season wore away until the Spring had again come around. I saw an
announcement in a New York paper that Evelyn Afton (her maiden name),
who had recently acquired such a brilliant reputation in London, etc.,
would perform during a short engagement at the Park Theatre. The next
morning saw me on the route to New York. I placed myself in an obscure
corner of the theatre. The curtain rose. There was a brief absence of
all consciousness, and then she came upon the stage. The play was
Cymbeline. I know nothing of what transpired, save that when she
rendered the words,--

'Oh for a horse with wings,'--

that light again appeared in her eyes.

The performance ended, and a man, feeling himself old and weary, passed
into the streets, and wandered through them till morning, wondering if
he had not in some way been connected with the brilliant being he had
seen; it seemed to him that once there had been some entwining of their
fates, but the recollection of it came like the indistinct memory of a
half-i