Esthetics is not my _forte_, hence I shall not attempt to describe the young girl. The name she bore was marked on her clothing in Greek letters, which were afterwards rendered into English by a professor of a college whose assistance had been asked by the Indian. Besides being known far and near as the most beautiful girl of her age, she was also distinguished as by far the most intelligent. She was undisputed queen on the Reservation, not by right, but by quiet usurpation. She looked and acted the born Empress, and her triplicate sceptre consisted of kindness, intelligence, and that nameless dignity and presence inherent in truly noble souls. Such was the bright-shining maiden, who, attracted by the boy’s cry and actions, now crossed over to the side of young Beverly. Observing his sorrowful appearance, she placed her soft hand tenderly upon his head, and said in tones heart-felt and deeply sympathetic, “Man of the heavy heart, why weep you here? Is your mother just dead?” The young man raised his head, saw the radiant girl before him, and, after a moment’s hesitation, during which he shuddered as if at some painful memory, murmuring, “No; it cannot be possible!--cannot be--in this part of the world, too! no!” he replied to her, saying, “Girl, I am lonely, and that is why I weep. I am but a boy, yet the weight of years of grief rest on and bear me down. To-day is the anniversary of my mother’s death, and, when it comes, I always pass it in tears and prayer. Since she went home to heaven, I have had no true friend, and my lot and life are miserable indeed. Men call themselves my friends, and prove it by robbing me. Not long ago, there came a man to me--he was very rich--and said, ‘People tell me that you are very skillful with the sick. Come; I have a sister whom the physicians say must die. I love her. You are poor; I am rich. Save her; gold shall be yours.’ I went. She was beyond the reach of medicine, and it was possible to prolong her life only in one of two ways--either by the transfusion of blood from my veins to her own, or by the transfusion of life itself. I was young and strong, and we resolved to adopt the latter alternative, as being the only possibly effective one; and for months, during three years, I sat beside that poor sick girl, and freely let her wasted frame draw its very life by magnetically sapping my own. Finally, I began to sink with exhaustion and disease similar to her own, and, to save my life, was forced to break the magnetic cord, and go to Europe. As soon as it was severed she sunk into the grave, and then I returned, and received a considerable sum of money in the nature of a loan. This favor was granted me as a reward for my pains, time, and ruined health. I was to return it from the proceeds of a business to be immediately established. At that time I resolved to purchase a little home for those who depended on my efforts for the bread they ate, and so wrote to a man who called