And thou, thyself, O nature, shrinking and humble, that needest to be
courted forth from the shelter, and developed under the calm and genial
atmosphere of holy, happy love--can such affection as Harley L'Estrange
may proffer suffice to thee? Will not the blossoms, yet folded in the
petal, wither away beneath the shade that may protect them from the
storm, and yet shut them from the sun? Thou who, where thou givest love,
seekest, though meekly, for love in return; to be the soul's sweet
necessity, the life's household partner to him who receives all thy faith
and devotion,--canst thou influence the sources of joy and of sorrow in
the heart that does not heave at thy name? Hast thou the charm and the
force of the moon, that the tides of that wayward sea shall ebb and flow
at thy will? Yet who shall say, who conjecture how near two hearts can
become, when no guilt lies between them, and time brings the ties all its
own? Rarest of all things on earth is the union in which both, by their
contrasts, make harmonious their blending; each supplying the defects of
the helpmate, and completing, by fusion, one strong human soul!
Happiness enough, where even Peace does but seldom preside, when each can
bring to the altar, if not the flame, still the incense. Where man's
thoughts are all noble and generous, woman's feelings all gentle and
pure, love may follow if it does not precede; and if not, if the roses be
missed from the garland, one may sigh for the rose, but one is safe from
the thorn.

The morning was mild, yet somewhat overcast by the mist which announces
coming winter in London, and Helen walked musingly beneath the trees that
surrounded the garden of Lord Lansmere's house. Many leaves were yet
left on the boughs; but they were sere and withered. And the birds
chirped at times; but their note was mournful and complaining. All
within this house, until Harley's arrival, had been strange and saddening
to Helen's timid and subdued spirits. Lady Lansmere had received her