The amber eyes instantly disappeared, along with their owner, one Sampey. A thumpy little heart in a round, plump body knew that it was he; knew, therefore, that her destiny was come, and, most extraordinary of all, in the shape of her good father's literary bureau! Yet what shock there was next day, when the hero of her dreams came to her with his ordinary pale-gray eyes, blurred somewhat and inclined to humidity!
"Sampey!" she exclaimed in dismay, tumbled thus rudely from the clouds.
"Muggie!"
"Your eyes last night—then you were a hero; but to-day——"
"A hero!" innocently echoed Sampey.
"Why, yes! Last night you had amber eyes—such beautiful eyes—the hero-eyes of my dreams!"
"My dear child, you certainly were dreaming."
"Oh, no! I saw them! My heart jumped so! I knew you—I knew you—and your eyes were amber!"
Sampey smiled sadly and a little complacently, and with great modesty said:
"I can't doubt you, my dear child, but I assure you that I was unconscious of my amber eyes. I wish that I could feel at liberty to confess to you that lately I have had strange whisperings of heroism in my soul—but that would be boasting, and true heroism is always modest. Still, I ought not to be surprised that you discovered the actual presence before I was aware even of its existence; but such, indeed, my dear, is the peculiarity of the true hero—he is ever unaware of his own heroism." He took her hand languishingly and squeezed it. She blushed and fled.