He rushed frantically from the garden, looking as pale as a ghost. But what had he seen? On his knees in the arbor he beheld Sam Perch, whom Toney Belton called the Long Green Boy, with his head resting on the lap of the beautiful Imogen. The young lady was dipping her handkerchief in a vase of water and tenderly bathing his brow. Now, what had brought the poor Long Green Boy down on his knees before Imogen? What had he said to Imogen, and what had she said to him, that had caused him to faint? Oh, ladies, how do you manage to get a stout young fellow down on his knees before you, when a strong man could not bring him to that position except by a powerful blow from a ponderous fist? The whole thing was a mystery, but the fact was apparent. Perch had gone down on his knees before the lovely Imogen, and she had spoken words which had caused such strong emotions that he had fainted. The Long Green Boy revived, after the young lady, with womanly tenderness, had bathed his brow with water from a fountain. He told her that his heart was broken. She murmured something in reply and glided from the garden, while the poor youth arose from his knees and with his fractured heart proceeded to his room at the hotel. When the unfortunate Long Green Boy entered his room at the hotel, he seated himself on a trunk in a corner, with a multitude of darts, which had emanated from the eyes of the beautiful Imogen, sticking in his heart and causing him intense agony. The poor youth had been carried away into the regions of rapture, and then suddenly and unexpectedly plunged into the pit of despair. He was convinced that his misery was more than he could bear, and after meditating profoundly upon the most eligible methods of escaping from the troubles of this sublunary state of existence, he arose, and going to an apothecary's shop, asked for a pint of laudanum. "How much?" inquired the apothecary. "A pint," said Perch. "Do you want a whole pint?" "Yes," said Perch, with a look of despair in his face,--"it will take a whole pint to cure me." "What is the matter with you?" asked the apothecary. "I have got the--the toothache," said Perch. "Humph!" said the apothecary. And he went into a back room to get a bottle. "Father," said a blue-eyed young lady in the back room, "do not give that young man any laudanum." "Why not?" "Because I have been watching him through the door, and I am certain he is crossed in love. He will kill himself." "Pooh! pooh! the young man has got the toothache. That's worse than being crossed in love a hundred times." "Oh, father!" said the young lady, and she resumed her reading of "The Sorrows of Werther."