CHAPTER VIII.

"Oui, les premiers baisers, oui, les premiers serments Que deux êtres mortels échangerent sur terre Ce fut au pied d’ un arbre effeuillé par les vents, Sur un roc en poussière." When he awoke the next morning, John Graham gave a deep sigh. His dreams had been so sweet that no reality could equal their happiness. As he sat on the edge of his narrow bed disentangling what was real from what was dream-born in his thoughts, his eye fell upon the knot of roses which he had taken from Millicent’s hair the ni…