"’Oh! I don’t know what I shall do!’ she cried, and the tears began to come into her eyes. "I might have been excused for thinking that at last she loved me; but I was not mistaken, I knew her nature too well. Such a girl might weep upon her lover’s neck, feeling for the moment as though her heart were breaking; and the next week under other influence throw him over for some one near at hand, with the most formal apology, and feeling hardly a sensation of pain. I felt sure that as soon as I had left, she would forget, but the knowledge did not bring, as perhaps it should have done, relief; rather it added to my pain. What hold could any one have upon such an undeveloped character? In all such cases we can only wait till the spirit is born. A flower is beautiful, we see it opening its delicate coloured petals in the sunlight; the fairy butterfly is hovering near, bearing the germ of fruition, but it passes by, and we must wait. As some blossoms, once as beautiful as their more fortunate neighbours, fall to the ground, having apparently missed, though we know not why, the purpose of their existence here, so some men and women live and die, having missed the object of their lives. The angel of love touches them not; he hovers near, they feel the breath from his wings, but the birth of the spirit is reserved for a future seed-time, and the harvest is a failure. "I left Scotland, and after making the money arrangements referred to, threw my whole heart and mind into my work, trying to drown other thoughts by the interest which each added power brought. Up to this time, as you will have seen, my gift was a mixed blessing, half-developed, and therefore more likely to lead to evil than to good; but now I began to make progress, to feel my feet a little; every week brought new and startling discoveries, power which I had hardly dared to hope for; wisdom that humbled me to the dust. But as the story of my year’s work abroad, and the events that happened to Vera during the same period in England will take me some time to relate, I shall leave them till your next visit. I have already tired you enough, we had better now rest a few hours, and if you like I will send you to sleep by telling a short fairy story. It has been a habit of mine since boyhood to mentally talk myself into dream-land, and without doubt you will find my tale have an equally soothing effect upon your own mind." So I lay back, courting sleep, whilst Sydney told me this fairy story.