f I were made the sport of adverse
influences, and constrained to act and to appear wholly different
from what I desire to seem. There are some of life's phenomena, Mr.
Dexter, that puzzle at times my poor brain sorely."

"Don't puzzle over such things, Miss Loring," said Mr. Dexter; "I
never do. Leave mysteries to philosophers; there is quite enough of
enjoyment upon the surface of things without diving below, into the
dark caverns of doubt and vague speculation. I never liked the word
phenomenon."

"To me it has ever been an attraction. I always seem standing at
some closed door, hearkening to vague sounds within and longing to
enter. The outer life presents itself to me as moving figures in a
show, and I am all impatient, at times, to discover the hidden
machinery that gives such wonderful motion.

"Morbid; all morbid!" answered Dexter, in a lively manner. "Dreams
in the place of realities, Miss Loring. Don't philosophize; don't
speculate; don't think--at least not seriously. Your thinkers are
always miserable. Take life as it is--full of beauty, full of
pleasure. The sources of enjoyment are all around us. Let us drink
at them and be thankful."

"You are a philosopher, I perceive," said Miss Loring, with a smile,
"and must have been a thinker, in some degree, to have formed a
theory."

"I am a cheerful philosopher."

"Are you always cheerful, Mr. Dexter?" inquired Miss Loring.

"Always."

"Never feel the pressure of gloomy states? Have no transitions of
feeling--sudden, unaccountable; as if the shadow of a cloud had
fallen over your spirit?"

"Never."

"You are singularly fortunate."

"Am I, Miss Loring?" and the young man's voice grew tender as he
leaned nearer to the maiden.

"I am blessed with a cheerful temper," he added, "and I cultivate
the inheritance. It is a good gift--blessing both the inheritor and
his companions. Neither men nor women are long gloomy in my
presence."

"I have often noticed your smiling face and pleasant words," said
Jessie, "and wondered if you moved always in a sunny atmosphere."

"You are answered now," he replied.

A little while there was silence. Jessie did not feel the repulsion
which had at first made Dexter's presence annoying; and as he drew
his chair closer, and leaned still nearer, there was on her part no
instinctive receding.

"Yes," she murmured softly, almost dreamily, "I am answered."

"Jessie." The young man's breath was on her cheek--his hand to