The Rosary

nted the quiet of her own room in order to think over that closing episode of the concert, which had taken place between herself and Garth, behind the scenes. She did not feel

set apart to minister always to the hearts of men in that perfect gift of melody which should uplift and ennoble. She could not lose the sensation of the impress of his lips upon the palms of her

ter. Ronnie had just broken through from the inmost circle to fetch an antimacassar; and Billy, to dash to the writing-table for a sheet of

for, as she turned to leave the room, she had seen his sleek head close to Myra Ingleby's on the further side of the duchess's crowd. He opened the door and Jane passed out.

aid n

felt annoyed with him for parading this gladness, which she had unwittingly caused and in which she had no share. Also she felt she must break this intimate s

d. "And do you know that y

His eyes shone in the

back. I am going out into the park now to breathe in the refreshing coolness of the night breeze. And I am goin

have a dozen," rem

t it has many hours. I shall be able to call them all to mind

the cross?"

et," answered Garth. "Ther

y, Dal," said Jane gently, "and I also fear

s confident

ily Jane looked at her hands. He saw the look and smiled, though he

t the stairs; but Garth arres

mething I want to ask you. May I? Will you t

g you all sorts of unusual things to-night; so three ad

ion, have Y

; then suddenly understood

'memories that bless and burn.' None of these things enter into my

OSARY as if each line were your own experience; each j

on I learned over the CHANT HINDOU? Therefore I had a rosary undoubtedly when I was singing tha

bringing his eyes on a le

ing very low, "that is how you wou

ared, I suppose I should care just so, an

song, although the circu

elves apart from our circumstances. But surely this is rath

room and sing all the lovely things I want to hear? And will you let me play a few of your accompanimen

eyes that Jane was startled and more than a little troubled. Then suddenly it seemed t

which reaches you through the eye. I begin to understand how it is you turn the heads of women when you paint them. However, you are very delightful in your delight, and I want to go up to bed. So I promise to sing all you want and as much as you wish to-morrow. Now keep your promise and don't bother me any more to-night. Don't spend the whole night in the park, and try not to

tered her room and placed her ca

the branches on either side of the dressing-table mirror, and in the sconces on the wall beside the mantelpiece, and in the tall silver candlesticks upon the writing-table. Then she seated herself in a comfortable arm-chair, r

ons which still remained therefrom, absolutely unwritable. Jane sat a

w, his passion for the beautiful had been awakened, this time through the medium, not of sight, but of sound. When she had given him his fill of song, and allowed him to play some of her accompaniments, he would be content, and that disquieting look of adoration would pass from those beautiful brown eyes. Meanwhile it was pleasant to look forward to to-morrow, though it behooved her to remember that all this admiration had in it nothing personal to herself. He would have gone into even greater raptures over Madame Blanche, for instance, who had the same timbre of voice and method of singing, combined with a beauty of person which delighted the eye the while her voice enchanted the ear. Certainly Garth must see and hear her, as music appeared to mean so much to him. Jane be

t dear, beauty-loving boy, more than you would wrong yourself, if you took him for one moment seriously. His homage to-night was no more personal to you than his appreciation of the excellent dinner was personal to Aunt Georgina's chef. In his e

e shy deer sleeping around unconscious of his presence; the planets above, h

n between her soul and mine. And she has no rosary. I thank God for that. No other man possesses, or has ever possessed, that which I desire more than I ever desired anything upon this earth, Jane's love, Jane's tenderness. Ah, what will it mean? 'I count each pearl.' She WILL count them some day-her pearls and mine. God spare us the cross. Must there be a cross to every true rosary?

dark hair, and his eyes, as he ra

ng suddenly to the consciousness of what she had said, she sat up in the darkness and scolded herself furiously. "Oh, you middle-aged donkey! You call yourself staid and s