lushed in her cheeks at each stroke of
her panting little heart. Her small passionate lips were slightly parted
to give vent to her hurried breath. Her widely opened lids threw up and
arched her black eyebrows. She did not laugh at the dismal comicalities
of the funny man, for Mliss seldom laughed. Nor was she discreetly
affected to the delicate extremes of the corner of a white handkerchief,
as was the tender-hearted "Clytie," who was talking with her "feller"
and ogling the master at the same moment. But when the performance was
over, and the green curtain fell on the little stage, Mliss drew a
long deep breath, and turned to the master's grave face with a
half-apologetic smile and wearied gesture. Then she said, "Now take me
home!" and dropped the lids of her black eyes, as if to dwell once more
in fancy on the mimic stage.

On their way to Mrs. Morpher's the master thought proper to ridicule
the whole performance. Now he shouldn't wonder if Mliss thought that the
young lady who acted so beautifully was really in earnest, and in love
with the gentleman who wore such fine clothes. Well, if she were in love
with him it was a very unfortunate thing! "Why?" said Mliss, with an
upward sweep of the drooping lid. "Oh! well, he couldn't support his
wife at his present salary, and pay so much a week for his fine clothes,
and then they wouldn't receive as much wages if they were married as if
they were merely lovers--that is," added the master, "if they are not
already married to somebody else; but I think the husband of the pretty
young countess takes the tickets at the door, or pulls up the curtain,
or snuffs the candles, or does something equally refined and elegant. As
to the young man with nice clothes, which are really nice now, and must
cost at least two and a half or three dollars, not to speak of that
mantle of red drugget which I happen to know the price of, for I bought
some of it for my room once--as to this young man, Lissy, he is a pretty
good fellow, and if he does drink occasionally, I don't think people
ought to take advantage of it and give him black eyes and throw him in
the mud. Do you? I am sure he might owe me two dollars and a half a
long time, before I would throw it up in his face, as the fellow did the
other night at Wingdam."

Mliss had taken his hand in both of hers and was trying to look in his
eyes, which the young man kept as resolutely averted. Mliss had a faint
idea of irony, indulging herself