rg, this garden spot of God's glorious earth--most of
all, I must leave you, cousin Mary, and I shall be lost, forever lost,"
exclaimed this strange youth, in tones melodramatic.

Mary laid aside her palette and brushes.

"Why then, cousin Phil, haven't you done better, after so many repeated
warnings?"

"It is easy for _you_ to ask that question, and you can answer it better
than can I. Why do you not ask the wind why and whence it blows? Why do
the waters overflow their banks, why ocean waves engulf life-freighted
ships?"

"No, Philip, there is no analogy. Be reasonable; you are a being of
will; you can do or not do. He is only a child who exercises no
self-control, who is governed only by caprice, whim, or whatever passion
of the moment. These follies, of which my mother makes account, and
rightly, are beneath one of your age. There is in them nothing
ennobling, charming; nothing that should gratify a mind that has the
faintest conception of the good, the beautiful, and the true."

"I suppose so, cousin. But I have so long indulged in this fun-loving
propensity"--

"That it has grown into an inveterate habit. Is this, then, a part of
your better nature? Is there no depth beneath this evanescent
surface--froth and foam? I believe there is. But in order that it may be
discovered to the light and made fit for cultivation, this trivial
surface-crust must be turned under, kept down, lest light and heat
nourish its weeds into luxuriance."

"Why have you not talked to me thus before? _You_ could do anything with
me, cousin Mary."

"I will tell you the truth, Philip, because I think I owe it you. I went
not with you to ride or walk, I have kept myself aloof from you, because
my parents thought you too wild for my association."

"I am not a bear, and I might be better than I seem," said the proud
boy, humbly.

"Yes, Philip, I believe you. And I have often thought I might do you
good. Had you been my brother I should not have hesitated; but I had a
suspicion that you might regard any persuasions or lectures from me as a
piece of self-righteousness, for which you might have, as do I, supreme
contempt."

"O, no, cousin. You are the best woman in the world. I would do anything
for you."

"Leave off all of those mischievous pranks which are the cause of your
present disgrace?"

"Yes, even that--and more. But it is too late now. I go to-morrow."

The result of this and still further conversation to the same effec