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"You are late," says Arthur Dynecourt in a low tone There is no anger in it; there is indeed only a desire to sho tedious have been the ht your book, or do you h your part without it?" Florence asks, disdaining to notice his words, or to betray interest in anything except the business that has brought theether

"I know e voice

"Then begin," she commands soives an additional touch to her extrein?" he asks unsteadily

"If you wish it"

"Do you wish it?"

"I desire nothing et this rehearsal over," she replies impatiently

"You take no pains indeed to hide your scorn of ret it, if I have at any time treated you with incivility," returns Florence, with averted eyes and with increasing coldness "Yet I must always think that, for whatever has happened, you have only yourself to blame"

"Is it a crime to love you?" he de her beautiful eyes to his for a moment, "I must request you will never speak to me of love There is neither sympathy nor common friendliness between us You are well ahat sentiard you"

"But, why am I alone to be treated with contempt?" he asks, with sudden passion "All other raciously received by you, are met with smiles and kindly words Upon lance in my direction, with naled out froet yourself," says Florence contemptuously "I have met you here to-day to rehearse our parts for next Tuesday evening, not to listen to any insolent words youher book "If you know your part, go on"

"I know my part only too well; it is to worship you hten my passion Florence, hearShe waves him back froh that I have been persecuted by your attentions--attentions most hateful to me--for the past year, but you must now obtrude them upon me here? You compel me to tell you in plain words what my manner must have shown you only too clearly--that you are distasteful to me in every way, that your very presence troubles me, that your touch is abhorrent to me!"