hat came so naturally last evening, and see
whether I can act what I then felt." She seated herself at the piano,
and began to sing, "_Oh, di qual sei tu vittima_." Then, shaking her
head slowly, she murmured: "No; it doesn't come. I must trust to the
inspiration of the moment. But it is a comfort to know they will not
_all_ be strangers."

* * * * *

Mr. King took an opportunity that same day to call on Mr. Fitzgerald.
He was very haughtily received; but, without appearing to notice
it, he opened his errand by saying, "I have come to speak with you
concerning Miss Royal."

"All I have to say to you, sir," replied Mr. Fitzgerald, "is, that
neither you nor any other man can induce me to give up my pursuit of
her. I will follow her wherever she goes."

"What possible advantage can you gain by such a course?" inquired his
visitor. "Why uselessly expose yourself to disagreeable notoriety,
which must, of course, place Mrs. Fitzgerald in a mortifying
position?"

"How do you know my perseverance would be useless?" asked Fitzgerald.
"Did she send you to tell me so?"

"She does not know of my coming," replied Mr. King. "I have told you
that my acquaintance with Miss Royal is very slight. But you will
recollect that I met her in the freshness of her young life, when she
was surrounded by all the ease and elegance that a father's wealth and
tenderness could bestow; and it was unavoidable that her subsequent
misfortunes should excite my sympathy. She has never told me anything
of her own history, but from others I know all the particulars. It is
not my purpose to allude to them; but after suffering all she _has_
suffered, now that she has bravely made a standing-place for herself,
and has such an arduous career before her, I appeal to your sense of
honor, whether it is generous, whether it is manly, to do anything
that will increase the difficulties of her position."

"It is presumptuous in you, sir, to come here to teach me what is
manly," rejoined Fitzgerald.

"I merely presented the case for the verdict of your own conscience,"
answered his visitor; "but I will again take the liberty to suggest
for your consideration, that if you persecute this unfortunate young
lady with professions you know are unwelcome, it must necessarily
react in a very unpleasant way upon your own reputation, and
consequently upon the happiness of your family."

"You mistook your profession, sir. You should have