So he came back and mingled with the gay crowd on the boardwalk
and tried to forget her.
Morrow had no sooner left Haddon than he felt his arm touched. Looking
around, he saw the smiling face of the loveliest girl in the world.
"Well, by Jove, Edith," he said. "At last I've found you!"
"Yes. I heard you were down here. You see, I've been up in town for the
last week. Gracious, but Philadelphia is hot! Here's Aunt Laura."
Morrow spent the evening with Edith. One night a week later, he proposed to
her on the pier.
"I will say yes," she replied, "if you can give me your assurance that
you've never been in love with any one else."
"That's easily given. You know very well you're the only girl I've ever
loved."
II
A BIT OF MELODY [Footnote: Copyrighted by J. Brisbane Walker, and used by
the courtesy of the _Cosmopolitan Magazine_.]
It was twelve o'clock that Sunday night when, leaving the lodging-house for
a breath of winter air before going to bed, I met the two musicians coming
in, carrying under their arms their violins in cases. They belonged to the
orchestra at the ---- Theatre, and were returning from a dress rehearsal of
the new comic opera that was to be produced there on the following night.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40