"O, it is part of my treatment. It may do you more good than all my physic. I have known such cases." "I am sure it will," returned the patient. Dr. Vaudelier retired, and after a serious charge to Emily, he reëntered, leading the Hygeia who was to restore the sick man. "Be careful," was the doctor's monition, as he elevated his fore-finger, in the attitude of caution; "be careful." "O, Emily!" exclaimed Henry, more gently than the nature of the interview would seem to allow, as he extended his hand to her. Emily silently took the hand, and while a tell-tale tear started from her eye, she pressed it gently; but the pressure startled the sick man's blood, and sent it thrilling with joy through its lazy channels. The invalid, as much as the pressure of the hand warmed his heart, seemed not to be satisfied with the hand alone; for he continued to draw her towards himself, until her form bent over him, and their lips met. It was the first time when both were conscious of the act. We will not go into ecstasies over the unutterable bliss of that moment. We will not deck our page with any unseemly extravagances. If the experience of the reader has led him through the hallowed mystery of the first kiss of love, he needs not another's fancy to revive the beatific vision. If not, why, thousands of coy and blushing damsels, equally in the dark, are waiting, from whom he may select one to assist him in solving the mystery. Besides, it is not always wise to penetrate the secrets of the heart, even in a novel; for there is a sacredness about them, a kind of natural free-masonry, which must not be made too common. Dr. Vaudelier, when he saw that the patient was disposed to behave himself in a reasonable manner, withdrew from the room, and left them to the undisturbed enjoyment of their happy reunion. In an hour he returned, and peremptorily forbade all further conversation. He permitted Emily to remain in the room, however, on the promise to allow the invalid to use no further exertion in talking. All day, like a ministering angel, she moved about his couch, and laved his fevered brow. All his art could not lure her into any conversation beyond the necessary replies to his questions concerning his physical condition. Henry was too thankful for being permitted to enjoy her presence to forfeit the boon by any untractableness, and, for one of his excitable temperament, he was exceedingly docile. CHAPTER XX. "_Appius_. Well, Claudius, are the forces At hand? "_Claudius_. They are, and timely, too; the people Are in unwonted ferment." KNOWLES.