aves from off a rose-bud, and drops
them on his open book. A slight start, and a look upward, and then (his
arms around her slight form) he kisses her fondly and often. And Happiness
clings about them, and nestles closely by their side, as if jealous of
being separated from either, and they were happy in their young love. How
happy! caring for naught besides, thinking of no future, but in each
other--taking no account of time so long as they should be together,
contented to receive the evils of life with the good, and to suffer side
by side (if God willed it) sooner than be parted. They were engaged to be
married. At present, neither possessed sufficient to live comfortably
upon, and they must wait and hope; and she did hope, and was reconciled
almost to his departure, which must soon take place, for he has been
studying for a barrister, and will leave his mother's house to find a
solitary home in a bachelor's chambers in London. Mordant saw himself (as
he had been then) sitting with his first love in that old familiar place,
her hand clasped in his, her fair hair falling around her, and vailing the
face she hid upon his shoulder, and even more vividly still, the
remembrance of that Happiness which had ever been attendant on them then,
when the most trivial incidents of the day were turned into matters of
importance, colored and embellished as they were by love. He saw himself
in possession of the reality, which, alas! he had thrown away for the
shadow of it, and he longed for the recovery of those past years which had
been so unprofitably spent, in a vain attempt at regaining it. The girl
still sat by him; they did not seem to speak, and throughout that long
summer afternoon still they sat, she pulling the flowers (so lately
gathered) in pieces, and he playing with the ringlets of her hair. And now
the door opens, and his mother enters, older by many years than when she
last appeared to him, but still the same kind smile and earnest look of
affection as she turns toward her son. Her hand is laid upon his arm (as
he rises to meet her), and her soft voice utters his name, coupled with
endearment. "Mordant, dearest, Edith and myself wish to walk, if you will
accompany us?" "Certainly," is the reply, and the three set out, and the
dreamer watched their fast receding forms down a shady lane, until a turn
lost them to his sight, and the retrospective view had vanished, but
quickly to be replaced by another.

Again he sees the