brings out a smile from the
dingiest corner of hut and attic.

Leonard wondered and praised. He kissed his blushing ministrant
gratefully, and they sat down in joy to their abstemious meal;
when suddenly his face was overclouded,--there shot through him the
remembrance of Dr. Morgan's words, "The little girl can't stay with
you,--wrong and nonsensical. I think I know a lady who will take charge
of her."

"Ah," cried Leonard, sorrowfully, "how could I forget?" And he told
Helen what grieved him. Helen at first exclaimed that she would not go.
Leonard, rejoiced, then began to talk as usual of his great prospects;
and, hastily finishing his meal, as if there were no time to lose, sat
down at once to his papers. Then Helen contemplated him sadly, as he
bent over his delightful work. And when, lifting his radiant eyes from
his manuscripts, he exclaimed, "No, no, you shall not go. This must
succeed,--and we shall live together in some pretty cottage, where we
can see more than one tree,"--then Helen sighed, and did not answer this
time, "No, I will not go."

Shortly after she stole from the room, and into her own; and there,
kneeling down, she prayed, and her prayer was somewhat this, "Guard me
against my own selfish heart; may I never be a burden to him who has
shielded me."

Perhaps as the Creator looks down on this world, whose wondrous beauty
beams on us more and more, in proportion as our science would take it
from poetry into law,--perhaps He beholds nothing so beautiful as the
pure heart of a simple loving child.

CHAPTER XIV.

Leonard went out the next day with his precious manuscripts. He had
read sufficient of modern literature to know the names of the principal
London publishers; and to these he took his way with a bold step, though
a beating heart.

That day he was out longer than the last; and when he returned, and came
into the little room, Helen uttered a cry, for she scarcely recognized
him,--there was on his face so deep, so silent, and so concentrated a
despondency. He sat down listlessly, and did not kiss her this time, as
she stole towards him. He felt so humbled. He was a king deposed.

He take charge of another life! He!

She coaxed him at last into communicating his day's chronicle. The
reader beforehand knows too well what it must be to need detailed
repetition. Most of the publishers had absolutely refused to look at
his manuscripts; one or two had good-naturedly glanced over and ret