tender, hopeful farewells. It was noticed however, that after Franz's
death a strange change came over Christine--a beautiful nobility and
calmness of character, and a gentle setting of her life to the loftiest
aims.

Louis said she had been wonderfully moved by the papers Franz left. The
ten letters she had written during the spring-time of their love went to
the grave with him, but the rest were of such an extraordinary nature
that Louis could not refrain from showing them to his cousin, and then
at her request leaving them for her to dispose of. They were indeed
letters written to herself under every circumstance of her life, and
directed to every place in which she had sojourned. In all of them she
was addressed as "Beloved Wife of my Soul," and in this way the poor
fellow had consoled his breaking, longing heart.

To some of them he had written imaginary answers, but as these all
referred to a financial secret known only to the parties concerned in
Christine's and his own sacrifice, it was proof positive that he had
written only for his own comfort. But it was perhaps well they fell into
Christine's hands: she could not but be a better woman for reading the
simple records of a strife which set perfect unselfishness and
child-like submission as the goal of its duties.

Seven years after Franz's death Christine and her daughter died together
of the Roman fever, and James Barker Clarke, junior, was left sole
inheritor of Franz's wealth.

"A German dreamer!"

Ah, well, there are dreamers and dreamers. And perchance he that seeks