ith his newly found
sister Ida, to whom he was quite attentive.

The young man looked annoyed in spite of his good breeding. "Has he
told you the story?"--to Miss Aikens.

"Not a word of it," said the latter. "You know," she then said to Miss
Giddings, "that some things so pleasant to hear may not be pleasant
for a party concerned to tell about."

"Forgive me, Mr. Ridgeley. It never occurred to me that this could be
of that sort, but as it was so delightful as told to me, I wanted to
know if it was an actual occurrence, in this humdrum world."

"I suppose," said Ida, "that a great many beautiful and heroic events
are very prosy and painful to the actors therein, and they never dream
the world will give them the gloss of romance."

"Ladies," said the young man, with a gay and mocking air, "hear the
romance of the Judge's daughter, and the poor student--certainly a
_very_ poor student. There was a rich, powerful and proud Judge; he
had an only daughter, more beautiful than a painter's dream, and proud
as a princess born. In the neighborhood was a poor and idle youth, who
had been the Judge's secretary, and had been dismissed, and who loved
the proud and beautiful maiden, as idle and foolish youths sometimes
do. The beautiful maiden scorned him with a scorn that banished him
from her sight, for he was prouder than Judge and daughter, both.
While disporting with her damsels among the spring flowers in the
forest, one day, the beautiful maiden wandered away and became lost
in the heart of an interminable wood, more wild and lonely than that
which swallowed up the babes of the old ballad. Day passed and night
came, and in its bosom was hidden a fierce tempest of wind and hail
and snow. The poor maiden wandered on, and on, and on, until she came
upon the banks of a dart, cold river; wild and lost amid tempest and
storm, she wandered down its banks, until, in despair, chilled and
benumbed without heart or hope, she laid her down to die, and the pure
snow covered her. Her father, the proud Judge, and his friends, were
searching for her miles away.

"A little boy told the story to the poor student, who hurried into
the forest, and under the inspiration of his scorned love, ran and ran
until he found the swooning maiden under the snow, took her up in his
arms, placed his garments upon her, and bore her through the cold
and rapid stream, found a shelter under the rocks on the other side,
kindled a fire, gave the maiden, prou