putting her hand on her bosom. She was looking
at him as she said it, but her eyes, instead of
any longer meeting his, seemed to turn their
regard inward, and to traverse strange regions,
not of this world. "I see some one
who is myself, though I can never have been
she: she is surrounded with brightness, and
people not like ours; she thinks of things
that I have never known. It is the memory
of a dream, I suppose," she added, in another
tone.

"Heredity is a queer thing. You may be
Aztecan over again, in mind and temperament;
and every one knows how impressions
are transmitted. If features and traits
of character, why not particular thoughts
and feelings?"

"I think it is better not to try to explain
these things," said she, with the unconscious
haughtiness which maidens acquire who have
not seen the world and are adored by their
family. "They are great mysteries,--or
else nothing." She now removed from her
head the curious cap or helmet, ornamented
with gold and with the green feathers of
the humming-bird, which her companion
had crowned her with, and hung it on its
nail in the cabinet. "Perhaps the thoughts