owever, here is the 'ring' or 'planetary' nebula in the Lyre."

"What a wonderful thing!" exclaimed Miss Carmichael, with her eye at the
instrument. "It looks to me like a golden hoop, with diamond dust
inside."

I do not know where Miss Carmichael got her knowledge of jewellery, for
to all appearance she wore none.

"Or the cup of a flower," she added, raising her head.

"Poets have called the stars 'fleurs de ciel,'" said Gazen, shifting the
telescope, "and if so, the nebula are the orchids; for they imitate
crabs, birds, dumb-bells, spirals, and so forth. Take a look at this
one, and tell us what you think of it."

"I see a cloud of silver light in the dark sky," said Miss Carmichael,
after observing it.

"What does it resemble?"

"It's rather like a pansy--or--"

"Anything else?"

"A human face!"

"Not far out," rejoined Gazen. "It is called the Devil Nebula!"

"And what is it?" enquired Miss Carmichael.

"It is a cluster of stars--a spawn of worlds, if I may use the
expression," answered Gazen.

"And what are they made of? I know very little of astronomy."

"The same stuff as the earth--the same stuff as ourselves--hydrogen,
iron, carbon, and other chemical elements. Just as all the books in the
world are composed of the same letters, so all the celestial bodies are
built of the same elements. Everything is everywhere--"

Gazen was evidently in his own element, and began a long lecture on the
constitution of the universe, which appeared to interest Miss Carmichael
very much. Somehow it jarred upon me, and I retired to the little
smoking-room, where I lit a cigar, and sat down beside the open scuttles
to enjoy a quiet smoke.

"Why am I displeased with the lucubrations of the professor?" I said to
myself. "Am I jealous of him because he has monopolised the attention of
Miss Carmichael? No, I think not. I confess to a certain interest in
Miss Carmichael. I believe she is a noble girl, intelligent and
affectionate, simple and true; with a touch of poetry in her nature
which I had never suspected. She will make an excellent companion to the
fortunate man who wins her. When I remember the hard life she has led so
far, I confess I cannot help sympathising with her; but surely I am not
in love?"

I regret to say that my friend the astronomer, with all his good
qualities, was not quite free from the arrogance which leads some men of
science to assume a proprietary right in the objects of their discover