forlorn and wretched, she bursts into the flood of tears which she
intended to shed upon his breast. Under ordinary circumstances, those
precious drops would not have been wasted. Young girls, when they
quarrel with their lovers, are not extravagant with their tears; they
put them carefully to the best possible use; and, I dare say, some of
Lilian's tears would have fallen on a sheet of notepaper; and the
stained lines of a letter would have reached Harold by the next post,
begging him to come back, and to let her forgive him for all the
spiteful things she had said to him. Unfortunately, however, just at
this critical juncture in the affairs of love--while Cupid was waiting,
hat in hand, to accompany the letter to its destination and keep an eye
on the postman--Lilian's father enters. He is on the verge of financial
ruin, and he has just received a letter from Mr. John Strebelow, a man
of great wealth, asking him for his daughter's hand in marriage. Mr.
Westbrook urges her to accept him, not from any selfish motives, but
because he dreads to leave, in his old age, a helpless girl, trained
only to luxury and extravagance, to a merciless world. Lilian, on her
part, shudders at the thought of her father renewing the struggle of
life when years have exhausted his strength. She knows that she will be
the greatest burden that will fall upon him; she remembers her dead
mother's love for them both; and she sacrifices her own heart. Mr.
Strebelow is a man of about forty years, of unquestioned honor, of noble
personal character in every way. Lilian had loved him, indeed, when she
was a little child, and she feels that she can at least respect and
reverence him as her husband. Mr. Strebelow marries her without knowing
that she does not love him; much less, that she loves another.

Act second--Paris. Lilian has been married five years, and is residing
with her husband in the French capital. As the curtain rises, Lilian is
teaching her little child, Natalie, her alphabet. All the warm affection