the Father. No two were alike, yet all bore an impress of the Creator,
and each had an individual beauty of his own.

Strolling into an arbor of vines, Homan, did not observe the fair
daughter seated there until he turned to leave; and then he saw her. She
seemed absorbed in thought, and her eyes rested on the shiftings
throngs.

"A sweet face, and a strange one," thought he, as he went up to her and
spoke:

"Sister, what are you thinking about?"

She turned and looked at him, and then a pleased smile overspread her
face.

"Shall I tell you?"

"Do, I beg of you. May I sit here?" He seated himself opposite.

"Yes, brother, sit. My thoughts had such a strange ending that I will
tell you what they were. I have been sitting here looking at these many
faces, both new and old, and studying their varied beauties; but none
seems to me to answer for my ideal. So I have been taking a little from
each face, putting all together to form another. I had just completed
the composition, and was looking admiringly at the new form when you
came and--and--"

"Drove away your picture. That I should not have done."