’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her. "What's that?" "The old human cry of something for nothing; but with you it is in reverse. Perhaps you will meet him someday. ” He would follow with a long discourse on biology, uninvited. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. He never appears to so little advantage as when speaking of him. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. Tears sprang to her eyes.
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