Lastly, what is there left to record of her who has been the central figure of our little history? Happily, not much. Are not the happiest lives those of which there is nothing to relate? With Mora the days of storm and stress are over; the past with all its wretchedness and misery seems little more than a hideous dream. She is happy in the present, and, so far as human fallibility can judge, there seems every prospect of her continuing so in time to come. Dr Mac came all the way from Aberdeen to attend her marriage. As he shook hands with her after the ceremony, he said: ‘What a pity, my dear madame, what a great pity it is that Providence did not bless you with a twin-sister!’ ‘Why so, doctor?’ ‘Because, in that case, there is just a possibility that another poor mortal in addition to my friend the colonel might have been made a happy man to-day.’ _Note._—All dramatic rights in the foregoing story are reserved by the author. STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE. HONESTY. It is to be hoped that the animal scale of morality is not so low that when a brute acts honestly it does so only because honesty is the best policy. There are many instances known of animals acting honestly, when the slightest promptings of instinct would have shown that it was more politic to act otherwise. Self-denial and self-sacrifice have been frequently needed of animals, and in the hour of temptation they have not succumbed. Neither fear, nor pain, nor the cravings of hunger have sufficed to deter many noble members of the brute world from their sense of duty. Quite recently the Canadian papers reported an anecdote of canine fidelity which, had it been told of a Roman soldier or a Hindu nurse, would have been bruited throughout the civilised world as an instance of humanity’s supremest devotion to duty. The story as told to us is, that when nearing Montreal, the engine-driver of a train saw a great dog standing on the track and barking furiously. The driver blew his whistle; yet the hound did not budge, but crouching low, was struck by the locomotive and killed. Some pieces of white muslin on the engine attracted the driver’s notice; he stopped the train and went back. Beside the dead dog was a dead child which, it is supposed, had wandered on to the track and had gone to sleep. The poor watchful guardian had given its signal for the train to stop; but unheeded, had died at its post, a victim to duty. This is no solitary specimen of canine integrity. The author of _Salad for the Social_ tells of a dog whose master deposited a bag in one of the narrow streets of Southampton, and left his dog to guard it, with strict injunctions not to leave it. The faithful creature was so staunch in the fulfilment of duty, that rather than forsake its trust, it actually allowed a heavy cart to drive over it and crush it to death.