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But he had now lost the precise spot; and thinking he had examined the drain, turned his attention to another quarter. "Love me, love my dog! Because I've scolded him and told him a few truths, you are ice to me. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. " "If only…. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. He will not help them—and I told Emile so—and thus he sends them to my other grandpére, even that he knows he is dead. "I am one. Sheppard, "and am most grateful for your offer. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. “I suppose most people’s letters are queer. .

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