ly. "Loveday--Thomas Loveday--is it
a common name?"

"No, I should think not very common. Don't you like it?"

"It--begins well."

Here followed another diversion.

"But what I was going to say about Tom," I continued, "is this--he
has fallen in love; in fact, I have never seen a man so deeply in
love."

"Oh!"

"Anyone else," I corrected, "for of course I was quite as bad; you
understand that."

"We were talking of Thomas Loveday."

"Oh, yes, of Tom. Well, Tom, you know--or perhaps you do not.
At any rate, Tom has written a tragedy."

"All about love?"

"Well, not quite all; though there is a good deal in it, considering
it was written when the author had no idea of what the passion was
like. But that is not the point. This tragedy is coming out at the
Coliseum in November. Are you not well, Claire?"

"Yes, yes; go on. What has all this to do with Tom's love?"

"I am coming to that. Tom, of course, has been attending the
rehearsals lately. He will not let me come until the piece is ready,
for he is wonderfully nervous. I am to come and see it on the first
night. Well, as I was saying, Tom has been going to rehearsals, and
has fallen in love with--guess with whom."

Claire was certainly getting very white.

"Are you sure you are well, Claire?" I asked, anxiously.

"Oh, yes; quite sure. But tell me with whom--how should I guess?"

"Why, with the leading actress; one Clarissa Lambert, is it not?"

"Clarissa--Lambert!"

"Why, Claire, what is the matter? Are you faint?" For my love had
turned deathly pale, and seemed as though she would faint indeed.

We were in the old spot so often revisited, though the leaves were
yellowing fast, and the blackbird's note had long ceased utterly.
I placed my arm around her for support, but my darling unlocked it
after a moment, struggled with her pallor, and said--

"No, no; I am better. It was a little faintness, but is passing off.
Go on, and tell me about Mr. Loveday."

"I am afraid I bored you. But that is all. Do you know this
Clarissa Lambert? Have you seen her?"

"Yes--I have seen her."

"I suppose she is very famous; at least, Tom says so. He also says
she is divine; but I expect, from his description, that she is of the
usual stamp of Tragedy Queen, tall and loud, with a big voice."

"Did he tell you that?"

"No, of course Tom raves about her. But there is no accounting for
what a lover will say." This statement was made with