of the worldling. Both missed the road to heaven."

"Both?" Mr. Markland looked surprised.

"Yes; for the road to heaven lies through the very centre of the
world, and those who seek bypaths will find their termination at an
immense distance from the point they had hoped to gain. It is by
neighbourly love that we attain to a higher and diviner love. Can
this love be born in us, if, instead of living in and for the
world's good, we separate ourselves from our kind, and pass the
years in fruitless meditation or selfish idleness? No. The active
bad man is often more useful to the world than the naturally good or
harmless man who is a mere drone. Only the brave soldier receives
the laurels of his country's gratitude; the skulking coward is
execrated by all."

The only response on the part of Markland was a deep sigh. He saw
the truth that would make him free, but did not feel within himself
a power sufficient to break the cords that bound him. The two men
walked on in silence, until they came near a lovely retreat, half
obscured by encircling trees, the scene of Fanny's recent and
impassioned interview with Mr. Lyon. The thoughts of Mr. Allison at
once reverted to his own meeting with Fanny in the same place, and
the disturbed condition of mind in which he found her. The image of
Mr. Lyon also presented itself. As the two men paused, at a point
where the fountain and some of the fine statues were visible, Mr.
Allison said, with an abruptness that gave the pulse of his
companion a sudden acceleration--

"Did your English friend, Mr. Lyon, really go South, before you left
New York?"

"He did. But why do you make the inquiry?" Mr. Markland turned, and
fixed his eyes intently upon the old man's face.

"I was sure that I met him a day or two ago. But I was mistaken, as
a man cannot be in two places at once."

"Where did you see the person you took for Mr. Lyon?"

"Not far distant from here?"

"Where?"

"A little way from the railroad station. He was coming in this
direction, and, without questioning the man's identity, I naturally
supposed that he was on his way to your house."

"Singular! Very singular!" Mr. Markland spoke to himself.

"I met Fanny a little while afterward," continued Mr. Allison, "and
I learned from her that Mr. Lyon had actually left the city. No
doubt I was mistaken; but the person I saw was remarkably like your
friend from England."

"Where did you meet Fanny?" abruptly asked Mr. Markland