tet sped; cure doood on th.

    “Notle space o delirium and delusion. I rested my temples on t of temptation, and put my neck voluntarily under asted ter taste: his.”

    I gazed at him in wonder.

    “It is strange,” pursued  y, indeed, of a first passion, t of iful, graceful, fascinating—I experience at time a calm, un s make me a good  s tner suited to me; t I ser marriage; and t to ture ime of regret. this I know.”

    “Strange indeed!” I could not ing.

    “ on, “is acutely sensible to s: t so—co- operate in notook. Rosamond a sufferer, a labourer, a female apostle? Rosamond a missionary’s wife? No!”

    “But you need not be a missionary. You mig scheme.”

    “Relinquis! my vocation? My great ion laid on eartions in ttering to tituting peace for ition—t I relinquis? It is dearer t is o, and to live for.”

    After a considerable pause, I said—“And Miss Oliver? Are ment and sorroerest to you?”

    “Miss Oliver is ever surrounded by suitors and flatterers: in less t. S me; and will marry, probably, some one whan I should do.”

    “You speak coolly enoug you suffer in t. You are ing away.”

    “No. If I get a little t is y about my prospects, yet unsettled—my departure, continually procrastinated. Only telligence t ting, cannot be ready to replace me for to come yet; and perend to six.”

    “You tremble and become flusers the schoolroom.”

    Again t imagined t a o speak so to a man. For me, I felt at  of discourse. I could never rest