that God knows, and make a universe! "Beloved, do not say such things to me any more; and whenever you feel such ambition and hope stirring in your heart, read over this little verse, and be sure that your child knew what she said when she wrote it:-- "The End of Harvest. "O Love, who walkest slow among my sheaves, Smiling at tint and shape, thy smile of peace, But whispering of the next sweet year's increase,-- O tender Love, thy loving hope but grieves My heart! I rue my harvest, if it leaves Thee vainly waiting after harvests cease, Like one who has been mocked by title lease To barren fields. Dear one, my word deceives Thee never. Hearts one summer have. Their grain 'Is sown not that which shall be!' Can new pain Teach me of pain? Or any ecstasy Be new, that I should speak its name again? My darling, all there was or is of me Is harvested for thine Eternity! ESTHER." The fourth letter was the one which Princess had found, the first which my uncle had read--Esther's farewell to her lover before going abroad. No wonder that it so moved him! "SUNDAY NIGHT. "MY DARLING:--I implore you not to come. Have I not loved you enough, all these years long, for you to trust me, and believe that it is only because I love you so much that I cannot, cannot see you now? Dear, did I ever before ask you to forego your wish for mine? Did I ever before withhold anything from you, my darling? Ah, love, you know--oh, how well you know, that always, in every blissful moment we have spent together, my bliss has been shadowed by a little, interrupted by a little, because my soul was forever restlessly asking, seeking, longing, for one more joy, delight, rapture, to give to you! "Now listen, darling. You say it is almost a year since we met; true, but if it were yesterday, would you remember it any more clearly? Why, my precious one, I can see over again at this moment each little movement which you made, each look your face wore; I can hear every word; I can feel every kiss; very solemn kisses they were too, love, as if we had known.