e those which cover
My window-pane;
Wilt thou, like them, turn back at noon
To drops again?

Oh, little Tiarella,
Thy silence speaks;
No more my foolish question
Thy secret seeks.
The sunshine on my window
Lies all the day.
How shouldst thou know that summer
Has passed away?
The frost-flake's icy silver
Is dew at noon for thee.
O winter sun! O winter frost,
Make summer dews for me!

After reading these over several times, Draxy took out her pencil, and
very shyly screening herself from all observation, wrote on the other side
of the paper these lines:

The Morning Moon.

The gold moon turns to white;
The white moon fades to cloud;
It looks so like the gold moon's shroud,
It makes me think about the dead,
And hear the words I have heard read,
By graves for burial rite.

I wonder now how many moons
In just such white have died;
I wonder how the stars divide
Among themselves their share of light;
And if there were great years of night
Before the earth saw noons.

I wonder why each moon, each sun,
Which ever has been or shall be,
In this day's sun and moon I see;
I think perhaps all of the old
Is hidden in each new day's hold;
So the first day is not yet done!

And then I think--our dust is spent
Before the balances are swung;
Shall we be loneliest among
God's living creatures? Shall we dare
To speak in this eternal air
The only discontent?

Then she shut the book resolutely, and sat up straight with a little
laugh, saying to herself, "This is a pretty beginning for a business
journey!"

Far better than you knew, sweet Draxy! The great successes of life are
never made by the men and women who have no poetic comprehension in their
souls.

Draxy's first night was spent at the house of a brother of Captain
Melville's, to whom her uncle had given her a letter. All went smoothly,
and her courage rose. The next day at noon she was to change cars in one
of the great railroad centres; as she drew near the city she began to feel
uneasy. But her directions were explicit, and she stepped bravely out into
the dismal, dark, underground station, bought her ticket, and walked up
and down on the platform with her little valise in her hand, waiting for
the train.

In a few moments it thundered in, enveloped in a blinding, stifling smoke.
The crowd of passengers poured out. "Twenty minutes for refreshments," was
s