moderate
joy within the bounds of that quiet which his physician demanded.

"May I not see her?" said he.

"That must depend entirely upon your own behavior. You have not shown
yourself a very tractable patient thus far."

"I will be perfectly docile," pleaded Henry.

"I fear I cannot trust you. You are so excitable, that you explode like
a magazine of gunpowder."

"No, no; I solemnly promise to keep perfectly quiet. She will, I know,
be glad to see me, wounded and stricken though I am."

"She has already seen you."

"Indeed!"

"Yes; and not content with _seeing_ you merely, your lips are not yet
cold from the kiss she imprinted upon them;" and a smile, not altogether
stoical, lit up the doctor's cold expression. "You shall see her, but
the instant I perceive that the interview is prejudicial to your nerves,
I shall remove her."

"Thank you, doctor!" said Henry, fervently.

"O, it is part of my treatment. It may do you more good than all my
physic. I have known such cases."

"I am sure it will," returned the patient.

Dr. Vaudelier retired, and after a serious charge to Emily, he
reentered, leading the Hygeia who was to restore the sick man.

"Be careful," was the doctor's monition, as he elevated his fore-finger,
in the attitude of caution; "be careful."

"O, Emily!" exclaimed Henry, more gently than the nature of the
interview would seem to allow, as he extended his hand to her.

Emily silently took the hand, and while a tell-tale tear started from
her eye, she pressed it gently; but the pressure startled the sick man's
blood, and sent it thrilling with joy through its lazy channels. The
invalid, as much as the pressure of the hand warmed his heart, seemed
not to be satisfied with the hand alone; for he continued to draw her
towards himself, until her form bent over him, and their lips met. It
was the first time when both were conscious of the act. We will not go
into ecstasies over the unutterable bliss of that moment. We will not
deck our page with any unseemly extravagances. If the experience of the
reader has led him through the hallowed mystery of the first kiss of
love, he needs not another's fancy to revive the beatific vision. If
not, why, thousands of coy and blushing damsels, equally in the dark,
are waiting, from whom he may select one to assist him in solving the
mystery. Besides, it is not always wise to penetrate the secrets of the
heart, even in a novel; for there is a sacredness abou