"Perhaps we have met before, in an anterior state of existence," replied Ida; "and lurking memories of introductions, and compliments, and staid courtesies, render these preliminaries odious now. I could be sure, sometimes, that my spirit had lived in this world before it tenanted its present body." "These are fascinating, yet dangerous speculations," he answered. "I am tormented by them myself, but I shun them as unprofitable." "Why so? The soul, as our nobler part, merits most study; its mysteries are yet undiscovered. What a field expands to our contemplation! over which the mind may rove and exult for ages, and leave unimpoverished. I would not barter one hour of such thoughts--chimerical though they may be--for ten years of this vapid, surface life. I had rather dive into the ocean, to bring up nothing but valueless shells, than drift, like dead sea-weed, upon the top of the sleepy waves." "May I describe another mode of life and action?" "Certainly--so you do not laugh at me." "Do you apprehend that I shall?" fixing his clear eye upon hers. "I would remind you of the humble mariner, steering his vessel boldly, but carefully, through the waters, thankful in sunshine, courageous in tempest, with one port in view, rowing past the Fairy islands that stud the deep; keeping a straight path in a trackless waste, for he looks to the eternal heavens for guidance." "I must sport among the islets," said Ida. "You do not quite comprehend me, Mr. Lacy. I have told you more than once that life has thus far been a disappointment to me, but it is not that I have sucked the orange dry, and would cast the tasteless pulp away. Mine has been so acid I must hope that time and the sun of prosperity will ripen it to lusciousness. Others tell of unknown depths of happiness I have capacity to enjoy--am I unreasonable in trusting that my turn will come? Have I tasted all of earth's delights at eighteen?" "Could you quaff them at one draught, your thirst would not be appeased. You are no nearer to contentment now than you were three years since. The drink-offering of popular award is growing dull and stale; you sigh at what would have chased gloom a month ago, and this is the hey-day of pleasure. Nay," continued he, dropping his earnest tone, and bending to look into her face, "I shall not forgive myself if I mar your evening's entertainment by my croaking. Messrs. Talbot & Co.'s anathemas against my impertinent monopoly do not occasion me a hundredth part of the disquiet your very sober face does. Mr. Thornton is coming to ask you to dance. Will you go?" "Fatigued!" exclaimed the barrister, to her excuse. "I should as soon admit the plea of a star for ceasing to shine upon the pretext that it was too troublesome to continue its light." "Has there never been such a disappearance?" questioned Mr. Lacy.