see you again
soon."

She was detained by her aunt, and presented to the remainder of the family,
and it was arranged that Mr. and Mrs. Young should visit her the ensuing
day. While they talked over the tea-table of the newly-found, Harvey went
slowly upstairs and knocked at Irene's door. Louisa was chattering
delightedly about her cousin, and, sending her down to her tea, he took her
seat beside the sofa. Irene lay with her fingers over her eyes, and he said
gently--

"You see that I am wiser than you, Irene. I knew that it would do you no
good to have company. Next time be advised."

"It was not Electra that harmed me."

"Then you admit that you have been harmed?"

"No; I am low-spirited to-night; I believe that is all."

He opened the _Rambler_, of which she was particularly fond, and began to
read. For a while she listened, and in her interest forgot her forebodings,
but after a time her long silky lashes swept her cheeks, and she slept. The
minister laid down the volume and watched the pure girlish face; noted all
its witching loveliness, and thought of the homage which it would win her
in coming years. He knew as he sat watching her slumber that he loved her
above everything on earth; that she wielded a power none had ever possessed
before--that his heart was indissolubly linked with hers. He had wrestled
with this infatuation, had stationed himself on the platform of common
sense, and railed at and ridiculed this piece of folly. His clear, cool
reason gave solemn verdict against the fiercely-throbbing heart, but not
one pulsation had been restrained. As he sat looking down at her, a mighty
barrier rose between them. His future had long been determined--duty called
him to the rude huts of the far West; thither pointed the finger of
destiny, and thither, at all hazards, he would go. He thought that he had
habituated himself to sacrifices, but the spirit of self-abnegation was
scarcely equal to this trial. Reason taught him that the tenderly-nurtured
child of Southern climes would never suit him for a companion in the
pioneer life which he had marked out. He folded his arms tightly over his
chest, and resolved to go promptly.

The gaslight flashed on Irene's hair as it hung over the side of the sofa;
he stooped, and pressed his lips to the floating curls, and went down to
the library, smiling grimly at his own folly. Without delay he wrote two
letters, and was dating a third, when his mother came in. Placing