a necessary muscle. But what YOU call 'heart'--and what the dear
elusive poets write about, is simply brain,--that is to say, an
impulsive movement of the brain, suggesting the desirability of a
particular person's companionship--and we elect to call that 'love'!
On that mere impulse people marry."

"It's a good impulse"--said Colonel Boyd, still smiling broadly--"It
founds families and continues the race!"

"Ah, yes! But I often wonder why the race should be continued at
all!" said Morgana--"The time is ripe for a new creation!"

A slow footfall sounded on the garden path, and the tall figure of a
man clad in the everyday ecclesiastical garb of the Roman Church
ascended the steps of the loggia.

"Don Aloysius!" quickly exclaimed the Marchese, and every one rose
to greet the newcomer, Morgana receiving him with a profound
reverence. He laid his hand on her head with a kindly touch of
benediction.

"So the dreamer has come to her dream!" he said, in soft accents--
"And it has not broken like an air-bubble!--it still floats and
shines!" As he spoke he courteously saluted all present by a bend of
his head,--and stood for a moment gazing at the view of the sea and
the dying sunset. He was a very striking figure of a man--tall, and
commanding in air and attitude, with a fine face which might be
called almost beautiful. The features were such as one sees in
classic marbles--the full clear eyes were set somewhat widely apart
under shelving brows that denoted a brain with intelligence to use