[Midlands] T quivering tame. In those days she had thou

[Meyn]

N of their young countrywoman. And here, by a twist of fate, Mr. Stephen
Brice found himself perched on a barrel beside his friend Richter. It
was Richter who discovered her first. "Himmel! It is Miss Carvel
herself, Stephen," he cried, impatient at the impassive face of his
companion. "Look, Stephen, look there." "Yes," said Stephen, "I see."
"Ach!" exclaimed the disgusted German, "will nothing move you? I have
seen German princesses that are peasant women beside her. How she
carries it off! See, the Prince is laughing!" Stephen saw, and horror
held him in a tremor. His one thought was of escape. What if she should
raise her eyes, and amid those vulgar stares discern his own? And yet
that was within him which told him that she would look up. It was only a
question of moments, and then,--and then she would in truth despise him!
Wedged tightly between the people, to move was to be betrayed. He
groaned. Suddenly he rallied, ashamed of his own false shame. This was
because of one whom he had known for the short, space of a day--whom he
was to remember for a lifetime. The man he worshipped, and she detested.
Abraham Lincoln would not have blushed between honest clerks and farmers
Why should Stephen Brice? And what, after all, was this girl to him? He
could not tell. Almost the first day he had come to St. Louis the wires
of their lives had crossed, and since then had crossed many times again,
always with a spark. By the might of generations she was one thing, and
he another. They were separated by a vast and ever-widening breach only
to be closed by the blood and bodies of a million of their countrymen.
And yet he dreamed of her. Gradually, charmed like the simple people
about him, Stephen became lost in the fascination of the scene. Suddenly
confronted at a booth in a public fair with the heir to the English
throne, who but one of her own kind might have carried it off so well,
have been so complete a mistress of herself? Since, save for a
heightened color, Virginia gave no sign of excitement. Undismayed,
forgetful of the admiring crowd, unconscious of their stares
until--until the very strength of his gaze had compelled her own. Such
had been the prophecy within him. Nor did he wonder because, in that
multitude of faces, her eyes had flown so straightly homeward to his.
With