slumbering a wonderful love of everlasting endurance.

Surely the heroine of this romance was deserving of a great love. She
was like a sunbeam when she entered a room, she always brought
gladness; she radiated the joy of living.

She rode like a princess, danced like a fairy, was a child of nature
and at the same time a woman of the world. I have seen her romp in a
daisy field and gather flowers with the children, as much a child as
any of them, and a few hours later I have met her in a drawing room,
an entirely different person, all dignity and self possession.

Mrs. Beuland was a daughter of one of the first families of Virginia;
tall and stately, with a splendid, graceful physique, blue eyes, black
hair and olive skin. Her physical charm and mental attraction were
always struggling for supremacy.

She was a girl of many moods; sometimes the joy of living would just
radiate from her and her care-free laughter and musical voice would be
that of a happy child; another time her eyes would lose the sparkling,
captivating expression and become dreamy and thoughtful, as though
they were peering into the great beyond; her voice would tremble with
earnestness as she would discuss some serious subject. And then again
there would be a note of sadness, though never of bitterness.

I knew Mrs. Beuland as Nell Wilbur in Virginia, before her marriage to
Mr. Beuland. Her family were among the victims of the Civil War who
were left paupers after the wreckage of the South.

Nell Wilbur had always been proud, willful and highly strung. Her