ntimely death and shut away from him forever in an
early grave--a life where there had been not only sorrow, but
bitterness--where there had been pain and want and homelessness and
desolate wanderings and longings for the unattainable--where there had
been misunderstanding and distrust and temptation and defeat--into such
a life this wee bit of maidenhood--this true heartsease--had crept and
blossomed, filling heart and life with beauty and hope and love--with
blessed healing.

How could he leave her? To others she seemed wrapped in timid reserve.
He only had the key to the fair realm of her unfolding mind. How could
he bear to leave her for even a little while? How barren his life would
be without her! How shorn of all beauty and grace!

And what would her life be without him, to whom had been offered up all
her beauty and the stored sweets of her nature? Who would guard her from
other eyes, that as her beauty and charm came to their full bloom might
look covetously upon her?

For the first time (and the bare suggestion seemed profanation) it
occured to him that a day might come when, as this slip of maidenhood
walked forth in her surpassing beauty and her precious innocence and
purity the eyes of a man might make note of her loveliness, her
altogether desirableness--might rest upon her with hopes of
possession--and he not there to kill him upon the spot. What if in his
absence another's hand should be stretched to pluck his heartsease
blossom--that left unguarded, unprotected by him, another should snatch
it, in its beauty, its purity and innocence, to his bosom?

The thought was hell!

Faint and trembling, he gazed down upon her as they strolled along,
compelling her soft eyes to meet his anguished ones. His face was white
and strained with his misery. She was pale and trembling, too, and there
was dew on the sweeping lashes, and as she lifted them and looked into
his face she trembled more. He looked upon her, tenderly marvelling to
see in her at once the loveliest of children and of women--a woman with
her first grief!

There was heart-break in his voice, for himself and for her, as he
murmured (brokenly) words of love and of comfort in her ear, and in her
voice as she, brokenly, answered him.

The sun was setting--a pageant in which they both were wont to take
exquisite delight--but they could not look at the glowing heavens for
the heaven of love and of beautiful sorrow that each found in the eyes
of the