g pulse with the fever of
impatient expectancy. The beautiful words of the poet Dennison, in his
"Night Ride of a Lover," were ever in his mind and on his lips. Over and
over again he murmured:

"Though fleet as an arrow he flies,
Though sundering space swiftly dies,
My heart cries 'Oh haste!
All time is a waste
'Till I drink of her soul at her eyes!'"

The speediest express train seemed a laggard, left far behind in the
race of the journey by his swift desire, which kept pace with the
telegram announcing his departure from Solaris and the probable time of
his arrival in Washington. At length his heart was made glad by a
distant glimpse of the dome of the Capitol, which seemed to give him a
welcome greeting as it marked his approach to the great city. He found
Fern Fenwick's carriage, with Mrs. Bainbridge waiting for him at the
depot. Half an hour later he was shown into the library at Fenwick Hall,
where in radiant beauty his blushing sweetheart gave him a royal
welcome.

As he approached her, with shining eyes and face aglow, soul and body
radiant with the grace and adoration of his all-absorbing love, the
heroic order of his manly beauty thrilled the heart of Fern Fenwick with
its irresistible charm. The kisses claimed by a lover's privilege, she
was powerless to deny. Nay! she did not try to hide the shining light
of a great happiness from the adoring eyes of such a noble lover, whose
magnetic presence stilled the tumult of her fluttering heart with the
ecstatic calm of a measureless content; that unmistakable signature of
sanction, that crowning seal of nature's approval which greets the
meeting of kindred souls, who, mated in the warp and woof of the web of
destiny, in the flashing flight of Cupid's dart, become the harmoniously
united halves of a perfect whole.

Ah, thrice happy, thrice blessed, thrice crowned lovers! How swiftly
passed those golden hours, as hand in hand, they sat entranced, with
soulful eyes in silent communion, dreaming and drifting in the
cloud-land of love's harvest-moon, in whose silvery mist they lost all
consciousness of the existence in this world of aught else beside
themselves!

The next morning after his arrival at Fenwick Hall, Fillmore Flagg
having breakfasted with Fern Fenwick and Mrs. Bainbridge, accompanied
the former to her work room in the tower. Here, as had been arranged on
the previous evening, she gave him a complete account of her w