ed.
The longing, lingering love, the good night said over and over, the
lover who cannot make parting seem possible, who turns again and again.
She catches the tenderness in Miss Neilson's eyes; ah, it is divine
passion now, and she is touched, thrilled, electrified. She leans over
a little herself, and her pure, innocent young face, with its dewy eyes
and parted, cherry-red lips are a study, a delight. One or two rather
ennuied-looking men watch her, and Floyd forgives them. It seems to him
he has never seen anything more beautiful. The unconscious, impassioned
face, with its vivid sense of newness, its first thrilling interest,
indifferent to all things except the young lovers, steady, strong,
tender, sympathetic. Even women smile and then sigh, envying her the
rapt delight of thus listening.

When it is over Violet turns her tearful eyes to her husband in mute
questioning. This surely cannot be the end, the reward of love? For an
instant the man's heart is thrilled with profoundest pain and pity for
the hard lesson that she, like all others, must learn. He feels so
helpless to answer that trust, that supreme innocence.

Everybody stirs, rises. Violet looks amazed, but he draws her hand
through his arm. Several new friends nod and smile, wondering if that
is Floyd Grandon's child-wife that he has so imprudently or strangely
married? He hurries out a little. He does not want to speak to any one.
In the crush Violet clings closely; he even takes both hands as he sees
the startled look in her eyes.

The fresh, crisp air brings her back to her own world and time, but her
eyes are still lustrous, her cheeks have an indescribable, delicious
color, and her lips are quivering in their rose red.

"Where shall we go?" he says. "Will you have some fruit or an ice, or
something more solid?"

"Oh!" and her long inspiration is almost like a sigh. "I couldn't eat
anything--after that! _Did_ they really die? Oh, if _Romeo_ had not
come so soon, _quite_ so soon!" and her sweet, piteous voice pierces
him.

"My darling, you must not take it so to heart," he entreats.

"But they _were_ happy in that other country. And they went together,"
glancing up with an exquisite hope in her eyes. "It was better than to
live separate. Mr. Grandon, _do_ you know what love like that is?"

She asks it in all innocency. She would be very miserable at this
moment if she thought she had come to the best love of her life. Her
training has been an