t on, by tender patience led,
Her sacred footsteps walked unbidden,
Wherever sorrow bows its head,
Or want and care and shame are hidden.

IX.

And they who saw her snow-white hair,
And dark, sad eyes, so deep with feeling,
Breathed all at once the chancel air,
And seemed to hear the organ pealing.

X.

Till once, at shut of autumn day,
In marble chill she paused and harkened,
With startled gaze where far away
The waste of sky and ocean darkened.

XI.

There, for a moment, faint and wan,
High up in air, and landward striving,
Stern-fore a spectral barque came on,
Across the purple sunset driving.

XII.

Then something out of night she knew,
Some whisper heard, from heaven descended,
And peacefully as falls the dew
Her long and lonely vigil ended.

XIII.

The violet and the bramble-rose
Make glad the grass that dreams above her;
And freed from time and all its woes,
She trusts again the word of lover.

WILLIAM WINTER.

THE HEARTBREAK CAMEO.

"It is a cameo to break one's heart!" said Mrs. Dalliba, as she toyed
with the superb jewel. "The cutting is unmistakably Florentine, and yet
you have placed it among your Indian curiosities. I do not understand it
at all."

Mrs. Dalliba was a connoisseur in gems; she had travelled from one
extremity of Europe to the other; had studied the crown jewels of nearly
every civilized nation, haunted museums, and was such a frequent visitor
at the jewellers' of the Palais Royal, that many of them had come to
regard her as an individual who might harbor burglarious intentions. She
was a very harmless specialist, however, who, though she loved these
stars of the underworld better than any human being, could never have
been tempted to make one of them unfairly her own, and she seldom
purchased, for she never coveted one unless it was something quite
extraordinary, beyond the reach of even her considerable fortune.
Meanwhile few of the larger jewelry houses had in their employ
lapidaries more skilled than Mrs. Dalliba. She pursued her studies for
the mere love of the science, devoting a year in Italy to mosaics,
cameos, and intaglios. And yet the Crevecoeur cameo had puzzled wiser
heads than Mrs. Dalliba's, adept though she was. It wa