live in hearts forevermore
When this frail, fitful life is o'er!
Oh, for the gifted poet's power--
This is my wish, be this my dower!"

Alene jumped to her feet, and standing in the window facing the room,
recited the words with a dash and a fire that brought forth a "Bravo!"
from Uncle Fred, who on his way through the hall had heard her voice
and, stopping softly at the door, witnessed her performance.

It formed a pretty picture, the little tragedienne, standing where the
crimson draperies made an effective background for her slender,
white-robed figure, with the long strands of rumpled brown hair
straying over her shoulder, and her earnest, gray eyes deepening to
black or sparkling into blue, her whole face lit with passion.

"You do your part well, Peggy," said the young man.

Alene's blushes of pleasure faded suddenly.

"But it's not my part, it's Ivy's! Why does everyone think when you're
rich that's all you are good for or can wish for! This is my part,"
and she pointed tragically at the detested verse.

"Ah, I see," said Uncle Fred, glancing at the lines. "It's a pretty
thing. 'Tis a pity to have it spoiled, as I fear it will be, since you
dislike it. "Why not suggest a change?"

"I'm afraid Laura would feel hurt; besides it is more suitable to Ivy
as she is a poet!"

"The very reason she may wish for something else!"

"Anyway, she said the verse in a sing-song style that just spoiled it!"
declared Alene.

"Poor stage manager! It's almost as bad as being the leader of a
choir! Pity Laura's not a mind reader! But why not be perfectly
honest with her, and tell her how you feel about it; perhaps Ivy has no
preference in the matter."

Alene thought that was out of the question; besides it would be selfish
to want Ivy's part, just because she herself preferred it; poor Ivy,
who, though so clever, was never quite happy.

"Then act on the Golden Rule; but don't spoil it by murdering the
dialogue in revenge," said Uncle Fred. To which Alene assented, though
she declared it was very hard.

"Since Laura's stars refuse to shine, why doesn't she call on me? Now,
I rather fancy the part," said the young man; and taking the paper with
an air of solemnity that the twinkling of his eyes belied, he proceeded
to read the verse with an exaggerated air, emphasizing the wrong words
and using gestures which seemed so funny to Alene that she threw
herself on the rug and screamed with laughter. The