fully.
Drain from it every drop of blood, if you will--I care not, so it save
_you_ from perishing.'

"Then the eyes of the young Prince shone out like the sun after a storm,
and drawing his dagger from his bosom, he--"

"Stop, Miss Thusa--don't go on," interrupted Helen, pale with emotion.
"I cannot bear to hear it. It is too awful. I asked you for something
beautiful, and you have chosen the most terrible theme. Don't finish
it."

"Is there not something beautiful," said the young doctor, bending down,
and addressing her in a low voice--"is there not something beautiful in
such pure and self-sacrificing love? Is there no chord in your heart
that thrills responsive as you listen? Oh, Helen--I am sure _you_ could
devote yourself for one you loved."

"Oh, yes!" she answered, forgetting, in her excitement, all her natural
timidity. "I could do it joyfully, glorying in the sacrifice. But he, so
selfish, so cruel, so sanguinary--it is from him I shrink. His heart is
already marble--it cannot change."

"Wait, child--wait till you hear the end," cried Miss Thusa, inspired by
the effect of her words. "He drew a dagger from his bosom, and was about
to plunge it in his _own_ heart, and die at her feet, when the old man
of his dream entered and caught hold of his arm."

"''Tis enough,' he cried. 'The trial is over. She has given you her
heart, her warm, living heart--take it and cherish it. Without love, man
turns to stone--and thus becomes a marble statue. You have proved your
own love and hers, since you are willing to die for each other. Put up
your dagger, and if you ever wound that heart of hers, the vengeance of
Heaven rest upon you.'

"Thus saying, he departed, but strange to tell, as he was speaking, his
face was all the time growing younger and fairer, his white beard
gradually disappeared, and as he went through the door, a pair of white
wings, tipped with gold, began to flutter on his shoulders. Then they
knew it was an angel that had been with them, and they bowed themselves
down to the floor and trembled. Is there any need of my telling you,
that the Prince married the young maiden, and carried her to his
kingdom, and set her on his throne? Is there any need of my saying how
beautiful she looked, with a golden crown on her head, and a golden
chain on her neck, and how meek and good she was all the time, in spite
of her finery? No, I am sure there isn't. Now, I must go to spinning."

"That _is_ beautiful!" c