” She closed her mouth. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. The boy she had loved was gone. . “I don’t know.
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