of
perplexity connected therewith.

"Yes," he continued, resuming his work with the air of an invincible
man, "there is something distinctly and exasperatingly wrong here. I am
in love with her spirit, and not with her person! Is it possible that
the human race, descending from Adam and Eve, should have reached the
nineteenth century without such a case ever having been heard of before,
and that I--I should be the first wretched example--or--or victim! It
is like loving the jewel without caring for the cas--no, that's a bad
simile, for one could throw away a casket and keep the jewel, which
could not conveniently be done in this case. I wonder what it is that
makes the rules of perspective so difficult, and the practice so im--"

His meditations were checked at this point by a sound so sweet that his
heart almost stood still, his pencil remained suspended over the sketch,
and the half-formed word remained in the half-opened mouth. It was as
if an angel had come to earth, and were warbling the airs of paradise.

Peeping through the bushes, Lawrence saw that it was Manuela! She was
sauntering along pensively, humming as she went. He sat still, amazed
and silent. From what cause we know not, but the Indian girl had not
until that day opened her mouth in song. The youth's surprise was
increased when she came near enough to let him hear that the words were
Spanish; but suddenly remembering that English girls sometimes learned
Italian songs by rote, like parrots, his surprise partly abated--why
should not an Indian girl learn Spanish songs by rote?

Manuela passed close to the tree behind which our hero sat. On
observing him she stopped, and blushed intensely red. Evidently she had
thought herself quite alone, and experienced the usual dislike of
humanity to being caught in the act of singing to itself!

In a burst of great enthusiasm Lawrence sprang up, overturned his
drawing materials, seized the girl's hand, and dropped it again as if it
had burnt him, as he exclaimed--

"I wish--oh! I _wish_, Manuela, that I were your _brother_!"

The lightning flash is said to be quick, and we suppose, relatively
speaking, it is so, but we are quite sure that lightning cannot hold a
candle to thought in this respect. Lawrence, as the reader has
doubtless observed, was not a man of much more than average
intelligence, or action of mind, yet between the first "wish" and the
word "brother," he had perceived and condemne