From a foreign shore.
And, oh! it makes my heart rejoice
To meet old friends once more!”
“Do you see any familiar faces on the pier, Miss Dawn?” queried Frederick Foster, wondering why Cinthia had turned her lovely face away so abruptly.
She looked back at him, pale, but composed.
“No, there is no one that I know,” she answered; and in spite of her pride, her lip quivered.
It was such a dreary home-coming, after all, with no one to welcome her and smile a glad welcome. She felt a keen pang of envy of the happier ones by whom she was surrounded.
Madame Ray and Mr. Dawn came up to them, and the actress said with a little smothered sigh:
“What a scene of joyous excitement and confusion! Parents waiting to greet sons and daughters, lovers to greet sweethearts! I am almost sad that there is no one to welcome us, Cinthia!”
“Madame, you are mistaken on your part,” laughed Foster. “I see a group of reporters with their eyes fixed on you already, and only waiting till the gang-plank is thrown out to rush upon you, demanding to know if it is not likely you will return to the stage again. To-morrow morning they will report in their papers that you have returned from Europe more beautiful than ever from your long rest, and with a new play that will charm the theater-going public this winter.”