It was open in her hand, and rustled sharp and stiffly in the air, but it was not inviting just then.

From that point it was always a pretty look down or up the river; and her eyes followed with the flow of its waters towards Inchicore.

She loved the river; and in her thoughts she wondered why she loved it--so cold, so unimpressible--that went shining and rejoicing away into the sea.

And just at that moment she heard a sweet tenor, with a gaiety somehow pathetic, sing not far away the words she remembered-- 'And she smiled upon the stream, Like one that smiles at folly, A dreamer on a dream.' Devereux was coming--it was his playful salutation.

Her large eyes dropped to the ground with the matchless blush of youth.