“Elysium, then,” with elaborate boredom.

They stood at the window in silence, and watched a moon almost full move slowly up the sky. Its wan radiance bathed the clusters of palms on the plain that spread behind the house at the horizon, and put uncertain silver fingers on the garden below them. Mayo turned to gaze at the girl beside him, and saw the moon’s caress on her hair.

“Yzlita-Audrey.” He lingered over the name. “This is like a dream come true.”

After a long moment, she answered musingly, “It’s almost too good to be true. I am so glad you’re here.—Tell me, did you ever really think I’d run off and marry an Italian count?”

Mayo took her reverently in his arms, and said with actual sincerity, “Why, the very idea! It never occurred to me you would. That’s why I came back.”

R. P. CRENSHAW, JR.

Portfolio

Song

You roses that lean away to the South,