ur hero's presence. "I am here," said Oliver briefly. "We were singing as you entered, Roland," said Frank mischievously.
"Won't you favor us with a melody?" "I don't sing," said Roland stiffly. "Indeed! Oliver is quite a singer." "I was not
aware he was so accomplished," said Roland, unable to suppress a sneer. "I suppose he doesn't often sing to you." "I shou
ldn't like to trouble him. I should be very glad to hear you sing, Miss Carrie." "If Frank and Oliver will join in. I don't l
ike to sing alone." A song was selected, and the three sang it through. Sitting at the other end of the room, Roland, who greatly admired Carrie, was tormented with jealousy as he saw Oliver
at her side, winning smiles and attention which he had never been able to win. He could not help wishing that he, too, were able to sing. If Oliver had made himself ridiculou
s, it would have comforted him, but our hero had a strong and musical voice, and acquitted himself very creditably. "It's a pity you don't sing, Roland," said Frank. "I wouldn't try to sing unless I could sin
or me, O
liver?" asked Frank. "You sing well," said Roland.
"Then it's you, Oliver!" Oliver smiled, but took n
o notice of the remark. Roland rose to go a little after nine. He had not enjoyed the evening. It was very unsatisfactory to see the favor with which his enemy was reg