ly the petals from
the rose-bush, and scattering them on the grass,--her dark eye filled
with a melancholy which I had never supposed could subdue its flashing
light, or relax the outlines of the thinly cut lips,--unsatisfied,--her
womanly nature rebelling against an unusually lonely lot. It needed just
this humble acknowledgment of human need and human love to make Frank
Darry irresistible, and my impressible fancy responded to the spell.
Impelled by a passion which from its very force forbade analysis, I bent
over her. Even then, as my hand fell upon her shoulder, and her eyes,
still lulled in their dangerous trance of sadness, met mine inquiringly,
my purpose was arrested by the voices of Nature around me, as if Annie
Bray, herself allied to them, were reminding me of claims which had once
held such power over me. I recall now the oriole whose nest swung like
a pendulum from the branch above, marking the passing of the summer day,
and whose clear note struck more sweetly than the cuckoo clock the
evening hour. I noticed a humming-bird nestled in its silver-lined
apartment, its long bill looking as though even the honeyed sweetness of
the flowers must be rendered more delicate before it could help to
nourish the exuberant and palpitating life of its little body. Then I
looked at the begonias and fuchsias in Miss Darry's hair, spilling their
precious juices on the stem, as they hurried to reveal the glowing
secret of their blossom; and while I yielded to the fascination of the
scene, the woman beside me was absorbed into its wonderful witchery,
Annie Bray and Frank Darry--timid, loving child and brilliantly
developed woman--both united to win from me the passion of my life. Had
I waited, the affinity of moods which drew us together would probably
never have been reproduced; but I exclaimed,--

"Miss Darry, I can never entirely love any other woman than yourself!"

She started almost convulsively from the contact of my hand, and met my
burning glance with one of such alarm and astonishment that I was stung
almost to madness. Undoubtedly, my anger was partly a reaction from the
period of dependence and tutelage, so galling to a proud and sensitive
nature.

"You have no right," I cried, passionately, "to despise the love you
have created. Listen; I do not expect any return. I know how theories
are practically applied,--how one may work for the poor and ignorant on
the broad table-land of perfect equality before God, and