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island flooded with moonlight. It was not alone that these noble rooms were shaded with richly-tinted draperies, and filled with costly furniture; any wealthy man's house may offer those things; but Mellen had thrown his fine individual taste into the adornments of his home. Antique and modern statues gleamed out of the general luxuriousness. Pictures that made your breath come unsteadily broke up the walls, and groups of bronze gave you surprises at every turn. The works of art, sometimes arrayed in one long dreary gallery, were here scattered in nooks and corners, completing each room with their beauty. And all this was kindled up into one brilliant whole. There was no crowding in those rooms. Each rare object had its peculiar light and appropriate space. A master mind had arranged every thing. In these almost palatial saloons Elizabeth stood by her husband, receiving their guests as they came in. Elsie was in brilliant spirits that night, and her buoyant gayety formed a singular contrast with the quiet repose of Elizabeth. Tom Fuller followed the pretty elf about everywhere in spite of her cruel rebuffs, for he was sadly in her way that night; and when she refused to dance with him, peremptorily ordering him away to entertain dowagers, or perform any similar heavy work, he would take the post she assigned him, and watch her with fascinated eyes as she floated down the dance or practised her wiles on every man who approached, just as she had once thought it worth while to entrance him. On that evening Tom Fuller woke to a consciousness of the truth; he understood the confusion and bewilderment which had been in his mind for weeks past; he loved this bright young creature with the whole force of his rugged nature, and began dimly to comprehend that she cared no more for him or his sufferings than if his heart had been a football or shuttlecock. He captured Elizabeth, and there, in the midst of the lights and gayety, told her of his wrongs, with such energy that it required her constant effort to prevent him from attracting general attention. "I love her," he burst out, "I do love her! She might run my heart through with a rusty bayonet, if she would only care for me." The beginning was not at all coherent, but Elizabeth perfectly understood what he meant. Several times during the past weeks she had attempted to open his eyes to the truth; but he would neither see nor hear, and had insisted upon rush
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