sible were
now distinct, as if eager for a smile from the aloof loveliness soaring
majestically overhead.

Mavis stood in the flood of silver light. For the moment her distress
of soul was forgotten. She gazed with wondering awe at the goddess of
the night. The moon's coldness presently repelled her: to the girl's
ardent imaginings, it seemed to speak of calm contemplation,
death--things which youth, allied to warm flesh and blood, abhorred.

Then she fell to thinking of all the strange scenes in the life history
of the world on which the moon had looked--stricken fields, barbaric
rites, unrecorded crimes, sacked and burning cities, the blackened
remains of martyrs at the stake, enslaved nations sleeping fitfully
after the day's travail, wrecks on uncharted seas, forgotten
superstitions, pagan saturnalias--all the thousand and one phases of
life as it has been and is lived.

Although Mavis' tolerable knowledge of history told her how countless
must be the sights of horror on which the moon had gazed, as
indifferently as it had looked on her, she recalled, as if to leaven
the memory of those atrocities (which were often of such a nature that
they seemed to give the lie to the existence of a beneficent Deity),
that there was ever interwoven with the web of life an eternal tale of
love--love to inspire great deeds and noble aims; love to enchain the
beast in woman and man; love, whose constant expression was the
sacrifice of self upon the altar of the loved one.

Then her mind recalled individual lovers, famous in history and
romance, who were set as beacon lights in the wastes of oppression and
wrong-doing. These lovers were of all kinds. There were those who
deemed the world well lost for a kiss of the loved one's lips; lovers
who loved vainly; those who wearied of the loved one.

Mavis wondered, if love were laid at her feet, how it would find her.

She had always known that she was well able to care deeply if her heart
were once bestowed. She had, also, kept this capacity for loving
unsullied from what she believed to be the defilement of flirtation.
Now were revealed the depths of love and tenderness of which she was
possessed. They seemed fathomless, boundless, immeasurable.

The knowledge made her sick and giddy. She clung to the window sill for
support. It pained her to think that such a treasure above price was
destined to remain unsought, unbestowed. She suffered, the while the
moon soared, indifferent to