was singularly fair, pale, and transparent, and the other characterized by delicacy, refinement, and a sort of earnest yet still enthusiasm. Her hair, of the softest and palest brown, was arranged in simple yet massive plaits around her finely-shaped head, and crowned with a wreath of 'starry jessamine.' From the absence of color, one might have imagined that her beauty would have been cold and statue-like; but you had only to glance at her soft, intellectual mouth, or to look into her large, clear, hazel eyes, which seemed to have borrowed their sweet, thoughtful, chastened radiance from the star whose beams were now fast paling in the brightening sky, to learn that Emily Sherwood could both think and love. "Dear Philip," she said at last, in that low tone which is the natural expression of all the finer and deeper emotions, "is it not beautiful? I feel at this moment as if I were almost oppressed with happiness--as if this were but an intense dream of love and beauty, that must, as sentimental people say, 'be too bright to last.' I never felt as I do now in all my life before." "Nor I neither, my Emily, my sweet little poetess; but I suppose it is because we love, for love intensifies all the feelings." "All the best feelings." "The whole nature, I think. It is, for instance, more difficult to bear a slight from those we love than from a comparatively indifferent person." "A slight! but there can be no such thing as a slight between those who love perfectly--as we do. Are we not all in all to each other? Is not our happiness indivisible?" "It is my pride and joy to believe so, my sweet Emily. I know in my own heart that the needle is not more true to the magnet than my thoughts and feelings are to you. It shall be the chief care of my life to save you from all uneasiness; but, Emily, I expect the same devotion I give: unkindness from you, of all the world, I could not and would not endure." "Oh, Philip, Philip!" she said, half tenderly, half reproachfully, "why should you say this? I do not doubt _you_, dear Philip, for I judge your love by my own." He looked into the truthful and affectionate eyes which were raised so trustingly to his face, and replied, in a voice tremulous with emotion, "Forgive me, Emily. I trust you entirely; but I had started an idea, the barest contemplation of which was insupportable--maddening, because of the very excess of my affection. In short, Emily, I know--that is, I suspect--your father looked for a higher match for you than I am. Report says that his prejudices are strong in favor of birth, and that he is very proud of his ancient blood; and the idea did cross me for a moment, that when you were with him he might influence you to despise me."