Stella Rosevelt — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A GLAD MEETING. 133 her eyes were riveted as if fascinated upon the familiar scene, could not say one word regarding it. He had made her very, very lovely, with that sheen upon her hair, those soft, bright curls lying low upon her forehead, which gleamed beneath them like purest ivory; with those half-averted eyes, in which the iris was just discernible, so richly blue, * * — “As if the sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall ;’’ with her delicate hands in their pretty act showing to such advantage, and her slight, willowy figure so gracefully posed— so lovely that she could not help the conscious blush which mounted to her temples, nor the quick heart-throbs which stirred the lace upon her bosom; for something whispered to her that his hand had lingered fondly upon that picture, as if over a work that he had loved. | ‘‘What do you think of my work, Miss Glaser! Phe asked, gravely, and breaking the silence which was becoming oppressive to him. ‘‘It—it is very—correct, I think,” she faltered, with averted eyes and deepening color. An anxious gleam shot into his eyes at her reply. ’ ** Have I displeased you by putting it on canvas?” he asked, earnestly. ‘“N-o,” she returned, somewhat hesitatingly. ‘‘T fear I have,” he said, still more gravely than before. ‘‘Do not hesitate to tell me if you are offended, and I will obliterate it with one sweep of my brush.” His eye was full of pain, a deep flush burned on his cheek, while there was a thrill in his low, earnest tone that set her pulses bounding afresh. She glanced up at him, smiling slightly. . ‘“No, Iam not offended,” she said; ‘‘but I’m afraid I ap- | saab very feclish that day to offer a a tress of my yellow “hair.” GomlcbooksnG