do for a rustic couple; but this was a new
and more fascinating phase of it. Impressed as I was apt to be by
anything appealing to my emotions or sense of beauty, I did not care to
join at once Miss Darry and Mr. Leopold, who engaged in their customary
repartee directly after the bride retired to prepare for her journey;
but Miss Darry, slipping away from Mr. Leopold, soon joined me on the
lawn, to which I had stepped from the French window.

"What a serious expression, Sandy! One might imagine you had been making
all these solemn promises yourself. You must learn not to be so easily
affected by forms and symbols. It is a weakness of your poetic
temperament. Their love has existed just as truly all these months as
now; yet I never saw you grow serious over the contemplation of it,
until a minister consecrated it by prayer and address."

I started.

"You do not give much of a niche to Cupid in your gallery of life, Miss
Darry."

"Now that is poorer reasoning than I should have looked for even from
you, Sandy. Because I laugh at your reverence for outward expression, do
I necessarily depreciate the sentiment?"

"No," I answered, bluntly; "I was thinking how you bade me set aside
Annie Bray,--how you always slight her claims upon me."

"Ah, it has a personal application, then," she replied, thoughtfully,
but frankly as before. "It is only because I want you to make the most
of your fine powers, that I would have you choose friends who can
appreciate you."

"I know that you have been disinterested, noble," I returned,
remorsefully. "But outward success would never atone to me for the lack
of love. Perhaps it is through my very weakness that I cling so to the
only human being who really loves me."

Miss Dairy's face changed color. For the first time in her intercourse
with me, she was strongly and visibly moved.

"Sandy," she said, after a pause, in a low, broken voice, strangely at
variance with its usual ringing tone, "without this love I, as a woman,
have lived all my life, until a week ago; and then, because it was not
the love I demanded, even though I could have taken it with
inexpressible comfort into my lonely life, I rejected it. I tell you
this merely as an encouragement. If Annie Bray is all you crave, forsake
everything else for her; if not, deny yourself the gratification of
being worshipped, and wait until you also can bestow your whole heart."

She stood there, in the waning light, plucking nervous