Now I AM sorry I came without writing to you first!--I don't know though!--and I can't say I am sorry I was taken ill, for all the trouble I have been to you; I should never have known otherwise how beautiful and good you are." "I'm not good! and I'm not beautiful!" cried Joan, and burst into tears of humiliation and sore--heartedness.

What a contrast was their house and its hospitality, she thought, to those in which Cosmo lived one heart and one soul with his father! "But," she resumed the next moment, wiping away her tears, "you must not think I have no right to do anything for you.

My father left all his personal property to me, and I know there was money in his bureau, saved up for me--I KNOW it; and I know too that my brother took it! I said never a word about it to him or any one--never mentioned the subject before; but I can't have you feeling as if you had been taking what I had no right to give!" They had come to the dry fountain, with its great cracked basin, in the centre of which stood the parched naiad, pouring an endless nothing from her inverted vase.

Forsaken and sad she looked.

All the world had changed save her, and left her a memorial of former thoughts, vanished ways, and forgotten things: she, alas! could not alter, must be still the same, the changeless centre of change.