yon died he left by his will fifty thousand
dollars "to my beloved and loving friends, Robert Browning and Elizabeth
Barrett, his wife."

The old-time novelists always left their couples at the church-door. It
was not safe to follow further--they wished to make a pleasant story. It
seems meet to take our leave of the bride and groom at the church: life
often ends there. However, it sometimes is the place where life really
begins. It was so with Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning--they had
merely existed before; now, they began to live.

Much, very much has been written concerning this ideal mating, and of the
life of Mr. and Mrs. Browning in Italy. But why should I write of the
things of which George William Curtis, Kate Field, Anthony Trollope and
James T. Fields have written? No, we will leave the happy pair at the
altar, in Marylebone Parish Church, and while the organ peals the
wedding-march we will tiptoe softly out.

MADAME GUYON

To me remains nor place nor time;
My country is in every clime;
I can be calm and free from care,
On any shore, since God is there.

While place we seek or place we shun,
The soul finds happiness in none;
But with a God to guide our way,
'Tis equal joy to go or stay.

Could I be cast where Thou art not,
That were indeed a dreadful lot;
But regions none remote I call,
Secure of finding God in all.
_God Is Everywhere_

[Illustration: MADAME GUYON]

Jeanne Marie Bouvier sat one day writing at her little oaken desk, when
her father approached and, kissing her very gently on the forehead, told
her that he had arranged for her marriage, and that her future husband was
soon to arrive. Jeanne's fingers lost their cunning, the pen dropped; she
arose to her feet, but her tongue was dumb.

Jeanne Marie was only sixteen, but you would have thought her twenty, for
she was tall and dignified--she was as tall as her father: she was five
feet nine. She had a splendid length of limb, hips that gave only a
suggestion of curve line, a slender waist, a shapely, well-poised neck,
and a head that might have made a Juno envious. The face and brow were not
those of Venus--rather they belonged to Minerva; for the nose was large,
the chin full, and the mouth no pea's blossom. The hair was light brown,
but when the sun shone on it people said it was red. It was as generous in
quantity and unruly in habits as the west