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I had yours!"
"My--miniature?" said the lively Fanny, with a roseate blush, "you had
nothing of the sort."
"Your likeness, then."
"Equally untrue--where is it?"
"Here!" said Mr. Ralph Ashley, laying his hand upon his heart, and
ogling Miss Fanny with terrible expression. "Ah, Fanny, darling, don't
believe that story I relate about myself--never has any one made any
impression on me--for my heart--my love--my thoughts--have always--"
Suddenly the speaker became silent, and rising to his feet, made a
courteous and graceful bow. A young lady had just appeared at the
door.


CHAPTER XXVI.
THE NECKLACE.

This was Redbud.
The poor girl presented a great contrast to the lively Fanny, who,
with sparkling eyes and merry lips, and rosy, sunset cheeks, afforded
an excellent idea of the joyous Maia, as she trips on gathering her
lovely flowers. Poor Redbud! Her head was hanging down, her eyes
wandered sadly and thoughtfully toward the distant autumn horizon, and
the tender lips wore that expression of soft languor which is so sad a
spectacle in the young.


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