n somewhat near relations with her. What has surprised me more
than that, however, is to find that she is becoming so much acquainted
with the Register of Deeds. Of all persons in the world, I should least
have thought of him as like to be interested in her, and still less, if
possible, of her fancying him. I can only say they have been in pretty
close conversation several times of late, and, if I dared to think it of
so very calm and dignified a personage, I should say that her color was a
little heightened after one or more of these interviews. No! that would
be too absurd! But I begin to think nothing is absurd in the matter of
the relations of the two sexes; and if this high-bred woman fancies the
attentions of a piece of human machinery like this elderly individual, it
is none of my business.

I have been at work on some more of the Young Astronomer's lines. I find
less occasion for meddling with them as he grows more used to
versification. I think I could analyze the processes going on in his
mind, and the conflict of instincts which he cannot in the nature of
things understand. But it is as well to give the reader a chance to find
out for himself what is going on in the young man's heart and intellect.

WIND-CLOUDS AND STAR-DRIFTS.

III

The snows that glittered on the disk of Mars
Have melted, and the planet's fiery orb
Rolls in the crimson summer of its year;
But what to me the summer or the snow
Of worlds that throb with life in forms unknown,
If life indeed be theirs; I heed not these.
My heart is simply human; all my care
For them whose dust is fashioned like mine own;
These ache with cold and hunger, live in pain,
And shake with fear of worlds more full of woe;
There may be others worthier of my love,
But such I know not save through these I know.

There are two veils of language, hid beneath
Whose sheltering folds, we dare to be ourselves;
And not that other self which nods and smiles
And babbles in our name; the one is Prayer,
Lending its licensed freedom to the tongue
That tells our sorrows and our sins to Heaven;
The other, Verse, that throws its spangled web
Around our naked speech and makes it bold.
I, whose best prayer is silence; sitting dumb
In the great temple where I nightly serve
Him who is throned in light, have dared to claim
T