ited him to fascinating
exploration--perhaps adventure. Instead of having to beg permission or
to steal off upon the solitary rambles which he loved, to this
enchanting country, he could, and did, go when he chose, openly, and
with no questions asked or rebukes given.

He held up his head with a new confidence at the thought, and took his
dreams of ambition and love, whenever he could allow himself time to do
so, to the enticing new region (as unlike anything around Richmond as if
it were in a different world) adjacent to which, for the time, his lot
lay.

He did not neglect his classes, however. They were regularly attended
and his standing was excellent; so the professors had no cause for
making inquiry into the pursuits of his private hours. The library,
too, in the beautiful Rotunda, was a new, if different, field for his
exploration and one that gave him great delight, for he found there many
volumes of quaint and curious lore whose acquaintance he had never
before made.

* * * * *

His imaginary wings were soon enough to be clipped--his exhilaration to
drop from him as suddenly as it had come.

_He did not hear from Myra!_

He watched eagerly for the mails, and as day after day passed without
bringing him a letter, deep dejection claimed him. Finally he wrote to
her again--and then again--and again--frantically appealing to her to
write to him and assure him of her constancy if she would save his life.

Still, no word from her.

The truth was that Myra, at home in Richmond, was awaiting each
mail-time as feverishly as he. The faint suggestion of rose her cheeks
usually wore, had entirely disappeared and deep circles caused by lack
of sleep and lost appetite made her light blue eyes appear more
prominent than ever before. The ethereal look that had been her chief
claim to beauty had become exaggerated into a ghastliness that was not
in the least bewitching. She, like Edgar, had pocketed her pride and
followed her first letter with others more and more expressive of her
tender maiden passion; but her father, who had begun to suspect an
affair between her and the players' son a short time before Edgar left
for the University, had kept diligent watch for the passage of letters,
and had successfully intercepted them.

And so the unhappy pair pined and sighed and gloomed, each reckoning the
other faithless and believing that life was forever robbed of joy.

Edgar Poe had never