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Stella. That is very amusing; but, Mr. Festus, if this is the extent of your elocutionary acquirements—

Festus. Oh, I beg your pardon! By no means! With your permission, I will read something a little more sombre,—Edgar Poe's "Raven."

Stella. That is certainly more sombre. Proceed.

Stella. Excellent! Mr. Festus, you are certainly a good reader. But this seems to affect you.

Festus. It does, it does; for I, too, have lost one—

Stella. A raven?

Festus. Pshaw! Come, madam, I believe you are to read now, and I to listen.

Stella. Certainly. I will read, with your permission, Whittier's "Maud Muller."

Festus. I should be delighted to hear it.

Festus. Beautiful, beautiful! Madam, this, too, affects me.

Stella. How?

Festus. When I think "it might have been."

Stella. Then I wouldn't think of it, if I were you. What shall we have now?

Festus. Suppose we read together.

Stella. Together?

Festus. Yes, a scene from some play. There's "The Marble Heart."

Stella. Oh, there's nothing in that but love-scenes!

Festus. It's a favorite play with me; and I have been thinking, while you were reading, that the character of "Marco" is one in which you might excel.