"It is very painful to leave my few remaining friends and go among perfect strangers, but it is best that I should." She leaned her head on her hand, and wept. "Why is it best?" "Because here I am constantly reminded of other days and other hopes, now lying dead on my heart. But we will not speak of this. Of all my ties here, my love for you is now the strongest. Oh, Beulah, our friendship has been sacred, and I dread the loneliness which will be my portion when hundreds of miles lie between us! The links that bind orphan hearts like ours are more lasting than all others." "I shall be left entirely alone, if you accept this situation. You have long been my only companion. Don't leave me, Clara," murmured Beulah, while her lips writhed and quivered. "You will have the Asburys still, and they are sincere friends." "Yes, friends, but not companions. What congeniality is there between those girls and myself? None. My isolation will be complete when you leave me." "Beulah, will you let me say what is in my heart?" "Say it freely, my brown-eyed darling." "Well, then, Beulah; give it up; give it up. It will only bow down your heart with untold cares and sorrows." "Give up what?" "This combat with loneliness and poverty." "I am not lonely," answered Beulah, with a wintry smile. "Oh, Beulah! yes, you are; wretchedly lonely. I have been but a poor companion for you; intellectually, you are far beyond me, and there has been little congeniality in our tastes and pursuits. I have always known this; and I know, too, that you never will be a happy woman until you have a companion equal in intellect, who understands and sympathizes with you. Ah, Beulah! with all your stubborn pride, and will, and mental endowments, you have a woman's heart; and crush its impulses as you may, it will yet assert its sway. As I told you long ago, grammars, and geographies, and duty could not fill the void in my heart; and, believe me, neither will metaphysics and philosophy and literature satisfy you. Suppose you do attain celebrity as a writer. Can the plaudits of strangers bring back to your solitary hearth the loved dead, or cheer you in your hours of gloom? I too am an orphan; I speak of what I can appreciate. You are mistaken, Beulah, in thinking you can dispense with sympathy. You are not sufficient for yourself, as you have so proudly maintained. God has created us for companionship; it is a necessity of human nature." "Then why are you and I orphaned for all time?" asked Beulah coldly.