ght, and made believe that she is supreme; and she
likes to have her lover come at a set time, and sit and wait and think
the clock has been turned back, and that he won't come, and yet he
must come, at the moment; and she will affect to have forgotten it.
She likes to be wooed with music, and flowers, and poetry, and to
remain coy and only yield when her full heart had gone long before;
and then to be engaged, and wear her ring, and be proud of her
affianced, and to be envied--oh, it is a thousand, thousand times more
to us than to you. It is our all, and we can enjoy it but once, and
think what is lost out of the life of the young girl who has not
enjoyed it at all. See, Arthur, what poor, petty, weak things we are,
not worth the understanding, and not worth the winning, as we would be
won."

Arthur had started up, and glided to the floor, on his knees, had
clasped his hands about her slender waist, and was looking earnestly
and tenderly into her coy, half-averted face, as, half seriously and
half in badinage, she made her plaint.

"Oh, Julia!"

"Nay, Arthur, I like it as it is. It was in your nature to have known
me, and to have courted me in the old way; but it would have been poor
and tame, and made up of a few faded flowers and scraps of verses; and
think what I have had--a daring hero between me and a wild beast--a
brave, devoted and passionate lover, who, in spite of scorn and
rejection, hunted for me through night and tempest, to rescue me from
death, who takes me up in his strong arms, carries me over a flood,
and nourishes me back to life, and goes proudly away, asking nothing
but the great boon of serving me. Oh! I had a thousand times rather
have this! It is now a beautiful romance. But I am to have my ring,
and"--

"Be my sweet and blessed sovereign lady; to be served and worshipped,
and to hear music and poetry; whose word and wish is to be law in all
the realm of love."

"From which you are not to depart for two full months of thirty-one
days each."

Then she conducted him to the apartment in which we beheld her the
night before.

"This," pushing open the door, into the room, warm and sweet with the
odor of flowers, "is your own special room, to be yours, always."

"Always?" a little plaintively.

"Always--until--until--I--we give you another."

"Good night, Arthur."

"Good night, Julia."

She tripped down the hall, and turned her bright face to catch a kiss,
and throw it back.

With