mankind!"

As the trapper spoke, he pointed to the young girls, who, hand-in-hand,
were returning from the stream--where they had been performing their
ablutions. The spots of _allegria_ had disappeared from the cheeks of
Marian, that now gleamed in all their crimson picturesqueness. It was
for Wingrove to admire these. My own eyes were riveted upon the roseate
blonde; and, gazing upon her face, I could not help echoing the
sentiment of the enthusiastic speaker: "Beautiful as the mother of
mankind!" Wingrove and I had been to the _lavatory_ before them; and
had succeeded to a certain extent in scouring our skins clear of the
vermilion bedaubment. In the anticipation of this pleasant interview,
it was natural we should seek to rescue ourselves from a disguise, that
the eye of woman could not look upon otherwise than with _degout_. It
was natural, too, we should desire those clasped hands to come asunder--
those maiden forms to be separated from one another?

Fortune was pleased to respond to our wishes. A flower hanging from the
branch of a tree at that moment caught the eye of Lilian; and, dropping
her sister's hand, she hastened to gather it. Marian, who cared less
for flowers, did not follow her. Perhaps her inclination tempted her
the other way?

But one did follow the fair Lilian--unable to resist the opportunity for
free converse--the only one that had offered since that first sweet
interview. How my heart bounded, when I beheld the blossom of the
bignonia; for it was that which hung drooping from the branch of the
cotton-wood, round which its bright leaves were amorously entwining!
How it swelled with a triumphant joy, when I saw those tiny fingers,
extend towards the _Sower, gently_ pluck it from its stem, and place it
upon my bosom! Talk not of bliss, if it be not this! We strayed on
through the straggling trees, along the banks of the stream, by the
edges of the little rills. We wandered around the vallon, and stood by
the torrents that fell foaming from the rocks. We mingled our voices
with the waters, that in low murmurings appeared to repeat the sentiment
so endeared to us, "I think of thee!"

"And you will, Lilian--you will always thus think of me?"

"Yes, Edward!--for ever and ever!"

Was the kiss unhallowed that could seal such promise? No--it was
sacred--

Down to Earth's profound, And up to Heaven!

Thus benighted with the sweet hallucination of love, how could we dream
that on