thoroughly to mistake the result of your ambitious career. My darling, ambition is the mirage of the literary desert you are anxious to traverse; it is the Bahr Sheitan, the Satan's water, which will ever recede and mock your thirsty, toil-spent soul. Dear little pilgrim, do not scorch your feet and wear out your life in the hot, blinding sands, struggling in vain for the constantly fading, vanishing oasis of happy literary celebrity. Ah! the Sahara of letters is full of bleaching bones that tell where many of your sex as well as of mine fell and perished miserably, even before the noon of life. Ambitious spirit, come, rest in peace in the cool, quiet, happy, palm-grove that I offer you. My shrinking violet, sweeter than all Paestum boasts! You cannot cope successfully with the world of selfish men and frivolous, heartless women, of whom you know absolutely nothing. To-day I found a passage which you had marked in one of my books, and it echoes ceaselessly in my heart: "'MY FUTURE WILL NOT COPY FAIR MY PAST.' I wrote that once; and thinking at my side My ministering life-angel justified The word by his appealing look upcast To the white throne of God, I turned at last, And there instead saw thee, not unallied To angels in thy soul! * * Then I, long tired By natural ills, received the comfort fast; While budding at thy sight, my pilgrim's staff Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled. I seek no copy of life's first half: Leave here the pages with long musing curled, Write me new my future's epigraph. New angel mine--unhoped-for in the world!'" He had passed his arm around her and drawn her close to his side, and the pleading tenderness of his low voice was indeed hard to resist. "No, Mr. Murray, my decision is unalterable. If you do really love me, spare me, spare me, further entreaty. Before we part there are some things I should like to say, and I have little time left. Will you hear me?" He did not answer, but tightened his arm, drew her head to his bosom, and leaned his face down on hers. "Mr. Murray, I want to leave my Bible with you, because there are many passages marked which would greatly comfort and help you. It is the most precious thing I possess, for Grandpa gave it to me when I was a little girl, and I could not bear to leave it with any one but you. I have it here in my hand; will you look into it sometimes if I give it to you?" He merely put out his hand and took it from her. She paused a few seconds, and as he remained silent, she continued: