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 added, muttering as he turned away: "No wonder you 'try' to write tragedy! Doesn't it rather strike you that you are one yourself?"

At their table in the large dining-room he was as silent, for a time, as Hyacinthe, though there were several subjects he wished to discuss with the youth, and he intended to open them before the conclusion of their meal. However, he waited, and in the meantime took note of Miss Olivia Tinker, dining alone just beyond the intervening table of Orthe the Eighteenth and his cheerful princess. The bridal table, though incognito, had been covered with flowers, and from Ogle's view Olivia's pretty head and shoulders, as she sat directly beyond, seemed to be growing out of a small rose garden—not inappropriately. She looked serious; but now that he saw her in the light he perceived that her sullenness was all gone, an improvement almost startlingly becoming to her. Then she turned her head, as if she felt and recognized his gaze, and her seriousness disappeared for an April moment;—she was suddenly all of such charming sunniness, as she smiled and nodded to him, that she even had a lopsided smile from him in return.