the ladies in town; but since then he had waited
assiduously upon her, had spoken softly to her, had
looked at her with shining eyes, and had sought to
be alone with her. The time soon came when to
touch his hand in greeting sent a thrill through her
frame,--a time when she listened for his footstep
and was happy in his presence. He had been bold
enough at the tournament; he had since become
somewhat bashful and constrained. He must be in
love, she thought, and wondered how soon he would
speak. If it were so sweet to walk with him in the
garden, or along the shaded streets, to sit with him,
to feel the touch of his hand, what happiness would
it not be to hear him say that he loved her--to
bear his name, to live with him always. To be thus
loved and honored by this handsome young man,
--she could hardly believe it possible. He would
never speak--he would discover her secret and
withdraw. She turned pale at the thought,--ah,
God! something would happen,--it was too good
to be true. The Prince would never try on the
glass slipper.

Tryon first told his love for Rena one summer
evening on their way home from church. They
were walking in the moonlight along the quiet street,
which, but for their presence, seemed quite deserted.

"Miss Warwick--Rowena," he said, clasping
with his right hand the hand that rested on his left