tter to a friend," she answered, with a
pleasant smile, as he was leading her through the several parlors, to
fix on one exactly suited to his taste.

"Writing?" said he, reproachfully; "O, Annie!"

"Why, what of that?" she asked.

"O, nothing, I suppose; but I can't endure to think you can sit down,
cold and calm, when I'm away, and indite your thoughts on paper. I can
neither read, write, nor think, without you, Annie."

She blushed at these words.

"Come," he continued, drawing her close to his side; "I need not tell
you I love you, Annie, for that you know already; but you can render me
very happy, by speaking one little word in answer to a question I want
to ask."

Still blushing and turning away her eyes, and he gazing so eloquently
upon her downcast features.

"Will you speak it, Annie?"

"Let me hear the question," she said.

He inclined his head and whispered in her ear. She placed her hand in
his, and he looked most happily answered as he wound his arm round her
waist and pressed the little hand close to his heart.

There was a band of wandering musicians playing in the street, and he
led her to the casement. She leaned lightly against his shoulder, and
thus they stood there listening to the music. It was rough enough, and
could hardly have pleased at any other time; but it sounded like the
symphonies of angels to them now. O, what divine strains! But the melody
was all in their own hearts. The screeching wheels of a dirt cart would
have failed to strike a dissonance upon their ears; for all nature
rolled on in linked harmony to them; they fancied they were very near
heaven, and so they were; they thought they could not be much happier if
they were really there, and it is doubtful if they could.

Thus wrapped in their new-found happiness, let us leave with prophetic
good-night.

CHAPTER XI.

"So fails, so languishes, grows dim and dies,
All that this world is proud of. From their spheres
The stars of human glory are cast down.
Perish the roses and the flowers of kings,
Princes and emperors, and the crowns and palms
Of all the mighty, withered and consumed.
Nor is power long given to lowliest innocence
Long to protect her own."

"Hardin, don't you remember the old fortune-telling hag that used to
keep office in a heap of rocks in that deuced rough hole called
Scraggiewood?" asked a g