bounds of
propriety" are its natural horizon-ring, moving with it, and inclosing
it every where without restraining its freedom.

We shall not be surprised to find that shortly after Miss Morris's
departure Room No. 1346 in the Catanational Hotel had another tenant.
Mr. Bartlett followed, as a matter of course. He began nevertheless,
to feel very much like a fool, and--as he afterward confessed--spent
most of the time between Utica and the Suspension Bridge in
deliberating whether he should seek or avoid an interview. As if such
discussions with one's self ever amounted to any thing!

Ascertaining the lady's presence, he decided to devote his first day to
Niagara, trusting the rest to chance. In fact, he could not have done
a more sensible thing, for there is a Special Chance appointed for such
cases. The forenoon was not over before he experienced its operations.
Bertha, cloaked and cowled in India-rubber, stood on the hurricane deck
of the "Maid of the Mist," as the venturesome little steamer approached
the corner of the Horse-Shoe Fall. Looking up through blinding spray
at the shimmer of emerald and dazzling silver against the sky, she
crept near a broad-shouldered figure to shelter herself from the stormy
gusts of the Fall. Suddenly the boat wheeled, at the very edge of the
tremendous sheet, and swirled away from the vortex with a heave which
threw her off her feet. She did not fall, however; for strong arms
caught her waist and steadied her until the motion subsided.

Through the rush of the spray and the roar of the Fall she indistinctly
heard a voice apologizing for the unceremonious way in which the arms
had seized her. She did not speak---fearful, in fact, of having her
mouth filled with water--but frankly gave the gentleman her hand. The
monkish figure bowed low over the wet fingers, and respectfully
withdrew. As the mist cleared away she encountered familiar eyes. Was
it possible? The Chiropodist!

This discovery gave Bertha no little uneasiness. A subtle instinct
told her that he had followed on her account, in spite of her cornless
feet. Perhaps he had left a lucrative practice at Saratoga--and why?
There was but one answer to the question, and she blushed painfully as
she admitted its possibility. What was to be done? She would tell her
brother; but no--young men are so rash and violent. Avoid him? That
was difficult and embarrassing. Ignore him? Yes, as much as possible,
and, if ne