hand. As she stooped to caress the dog, happy at his honest greeting,
and tears that had been long gathering at the lids fell silently on his
face (for I know nothing that more moves us to tears than the hearty
kindness of a dog, when something in human beings has pained or chilled
us), she heard behind the musical voice of Harley. Hastily she dried or
repressed her tears, as her guardian came up, and drew her arm within his
own.

"I had so little of your conversation last evening, my dear ward, that I
may well monopolize you now, even to the privation of Nero. And so you
are once more in your native land?"

Helen sighed softly.

"May I not hope that you return under fairer auspices than those which
your childhood knew?"

Helen turned her eyes with ingenuous thankfulness to her guardian, and
the memory of all she owed to him rushed upon her heart.

Harley renewed, and with earnest, though melancholy sweetness, "Helen,
your eyes thank me; but hear me before your words do. I deserve no
thanks. I am about to make to you a strange confession of egotism and
selfishness."

"You!--oh, impossible!"

"Judge yourself, and then decide which of us shall have cause to be
grateful. Helen, when I was scarcely your age--a boy in years, but more,
methinks, a man at heart, with man's strong energies and sublime