The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. She wouldn't be able to pass by anywhere without folks turning their heads.
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