"What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. It had been intensified and corrupted by time, as if to add insult to injury. Farhat who was stranded on a desolate roadside until one fateful day he passed the traveling caravan of the beautiful princess Anoush. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. "Our worthy friend was going to observe, Ma'am, that we never fail in our devotion to the fair sex," said Mr.
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