d die rather than give up Almah," said I.

Layelah smiled. "That sounds strange to the Kosekin," said she, "for
here to give up your love and to die are both esteemed the greatest
possible blessings. But Almah should give you up. It is the women with
us who make the beginning. Women generally fall in love first, and it
is expected that they will tell their love first. The delicacy of a
woman's feelings makes this natural, for if a man tells his love to a
woman who does not love him, it shocks her modesty; while if a woman
tells a man, he has no modesty to shock."

"That is strange," said I; "but suppose the man does not love the
woman?"

"Why, no woman wants to be loved; she only wants to love."

At this I felt somewhat bewildered.

"That," said Layelah, "is unrequited love, which is the chief blessing
here, though for my part I am a philosopher, and would wish when I
love to be loved in return."

"And then," said I, "if so, would you give up your lover, in
accordance with the custom of your country?"

Layelah's dark eyes rested on me for a moment with a glance of intense
earnestness and profound meaning. She drew a long breath, and then
said, in a low, tremulous voice,

"Never!"

Layelah was constantly with me, and at length used to come at an
earlier time, when Almah was present. Her manner toward Almah was full
of the usual Kosekin courtesy and gracious cordiality. She was still
intent upon learning from me the manners, customs, and principles of
action of the race to which I belonged. She had an insatiable thirst
for knowledge, and her curiosity extended to all of those great
inventions which are the wonder of Christendom. Locomotives and
steamboats were described to her under the names of "horses of fire"
and "ships of fire"; printing was "letters of power"; the electric
telegraph, "messages of lightning"; the organ, "lute of giants,"
and so on. Yet, in spite of the eagerness with which she made her
inquiries, and the diligence with which she noted all down, I could
see that there was in her mind something lying beneath it all--a far
more earnest purpose, and a far more personal one, than the pursuit of
useful knowledge.

Layelah was watchful of Almah; she seemed studying her to see how far
this woman of another race differed from the Kosekin. She would often
turn from me and talk with Almah for a long time, questioning her
about her people and their ways. Almah's manner was somewhat reserved,
and it