e, and specimens of womankind, from the
buxom housewife who took them under her motherly wing at once, to the
sour, snuffy, shoe-binding spinster with "No Admittance" written all
over her face.

To Moor the world was glorified with the purple light which seldom
touches it but once for any of us; the journey was a wedding march, made
beautiful by summer, victorious by joy; his young wife the queen of
women, and himself an equal of the gods because no longer conscious of a
want. Sylvia could not be otherwise than happy, for finding unbounded
liberty and love her portion, she had nothing to regret, and regarded
marriage as an agreeable process which had simply changed her name and
given her protector, friend, and lover all in one. She was therefore her
sweetest and sincerest self, miraculously docile, and charmingly gay;
interested in all she saw, and quite overflowing with delight when the
last days of the week betrayed the secret that her destination was the
mountains.

Loving the sea so well, her few flights from home had given her only
marine experiences, and the flavor of entire novelty was added to the
feast her husband had provided for her. It came to her not only when she
could enjoy it most, but when she needed it most, soothing the unquiet,
stimulating the nobler elements which ruled her life by turns and
fitting her for what lay before her. Choosing the quietest roads, Moor
showed her the wonders of a region whose wild grandeur and beauty make
its memory a life-long satisfaction. Day after day they followed
mountain paths, studying the changes of an ever-varying landscape,
watching the flush of dawn redden the granite fronts of these Titans
scarred with centuries of storm, the lustre of noon brood over them
until they smiled, the evening purple wrap them in its splendor, or
moonlight touch them with its magic; till Sylvia, always looking up at
that which filled her heart with reverence and awe, was led to look
beyond, and through the medium of the friend beside her learned that
human love brings us nearer to the Divine, and is the surest means to
that great end.

The last week of the honeymoon came all too soon, for then they had
promised to return. The crowning glory of the range was left until the
last, and after a day of memorable delights Sylvia sat in the sunset
feasting her eyes upon the wonders of a scene which is indescribable,
for words have limits and that is apparently illimitable. Presently Moor