piercing. But this Titanic trunk was planted on a pair of legs that would better have suited the boyish stature of his son Jack, so that he was not so tall as myself. It is impossible, dear Francesca, to give you any adequate idea of the harsh repulsiveness of this strange man,-not because of his deformity, but on account of the sneering rudeness of his gaze, and the lawless, almost impertinent, freedom of his expression; as if he cared not who saw the evil in his soul, nor what sentiment of disgust it inspired. Not that his face seemed vulgar. There was even a look of quickness and acuteness of intellect about it; but there was no corresponding fineness of nature. There was also a latent morbidness in his expression; as if his deformity, or something else, had put him at cross-purposes with life.

His rude accost made me color, in spite of myself;there was just truth enough in it to give it a sting. Certainly this man had a wonderful power of discerning whatever grain of selfishness might be hidden at the bottom of a good deed, and of putting his cynical finger on it.

"A good student loves the subjects of his study,” I answered, after a moment's pause of embarrassment. "And if I had not a real love of humanity-and of Christ-in my heart, I should not be here to-night."

MR. WARREN. Oh! you're one of that sort, are you? You don't look like it ;-I should say there was more fire than frost about you (with just enough emphasis on the words to make me aware of the pun). Well, madam, I will undertake to convince you,-if you will listen,—that Christ was only a man like myself, or if you don't like the pattern (looking down at his shrunken legs with a terrible irony) then, like William Herman in there, watching with my son Sam.

I. And if you could, sir, what help in life, or comfort in death, should I derive from that conviction?

He stared at me, for a moment, with an utterly blank look. He had expected denial, or argument, not a prac

tical question of valuation. Then, suddenly quitting the subject, and changing his tone to one of more courtesy, he said,

"Well, Miss Frost, I am obliged to you for coming here to-night, whatever was your object, or your motive. It is more than we expected from a city-bred lady-or deserved," he added, with an affectation of humility that was haughtier than any outspoken pride. "But please to step this way a moment."

He opened a door into a pantry near by, and motioned me to enter. Then, holding the door in his hand, and half closing it behind him, he said, in a low voice, "I bring you here, that Maggie may not hear us. I wish to ask you to refrain from any preaching, or exhorting, during your watch with her. I don't want her to be frightened into the next world by being told to 'prepare for death';—that's the cant phrase, isn't it?"—with a sneer.

MALA. Tell the old bear that you'll do as you think right, and if he does not like it, you can go home again.

BONA. No, no,-if you want Mr. Warren to go a step in your way, you must first go a step in his. Get a hold on him by kindness, it is your only chance of doing him any good.

I (speaking partly from the influence of one, and partly of the other). Mr. Warren, you have a right to dictate, in this house. And if you choose to send your child into the next world, without the needful preparation, it is your responsibility, not mine.

MR. WARREN (with flashing eyes). But Maggie isn't going into the next world! She won't die, I tell you,—she shan't die! But she is weak and nervous, and you would scare her to death, if you hinted that there was even a chance of her dying; and that would be your responsi bility. You won't do it, will you? (with a mixture of entreaty and fierceness, impossible to describe.)

I (coldly). Sir, I will try to remember your wishes.

The old sinister look settled back on his face. "Well, that's settled," said he, throwing wide open the door, “and I shall be near enough to see how the promise is kept. Not that I doubt your word," with a half bow.

Mrs. Warren had listened to this conversation with a pained and anxious look; now she seized the opportunity

to say,

"Will you come into Maggie's room, now, Miss Frost?" -pointing to an open door, where I had already caught a glimpse of a bed, and a young, fever-flushed face.

"I shall be glad to do so. And you had better give me your directions for the night, and go to bed at once,-you look thoroughly tired out. As I am here to watch, the sooner I am made of use, the better."

I followed her into the little room-so small that there was barely a passage-way between the walls and the bed. Here lay Maggie, a fine-looking girl of fifteen or sixteen; whose hectic cheek, and large, restless black eyes, lit up with the unnatural brightness of fever, gave her a strange, wild beauty. She looked at me curiously and intently, letting her eyes rest with evident pleasure on the bright tints of my wrapper; but she said nothing, not even in answer to my greeting. The few necessary directions were given, the whereabouts of pills, drops, and refreshment tray, pointed out, and then the mother bade us good night, and withdrew.

IV.

THE VIGIL.

HAVE received your letter, Francesca mia, but do not ask me yet, to enter upon the details of the separation of Paul and myself. Thank you for your offer of friendly service, but the break is past mending; neither explanation nor mediation could avail aught. The parting is finallet that suffice for the present. Not until grief has become subdued and softened by time, can we stand by the grave where hope and faith lie buried, and talk calmly of our loss. Before then, sobs or silence. must speak for us. I scorn to give way to the sobs; you must try to understand the silence.

"Forgetting the things which are behind "-or doing my best to that end,-I continue the narrative of my strange vigil with Maggie Warren. Seated by her bedside, fan in hand, I heard the slow footsteps of the weary mother ascend the creaking staircase, move about overhead, for a brief space, and then cease; conjecturing, meanwhile, what curious links of circumstance had bound that gentle, refined woman to that morose, sneering, repulsive hulk of I wasted no wonder on the union itself,-the story of Titania and Bottom has been so often acted on the stage of life, since Shakespeare's time, as to have grown commonplace. But I began to wonder, ere long, what Mr. Warren was about, in the kitchen, and when he would

a man.

withdraw, and leave me to myself and the sick maiden ?

The query was soon answered. I heard him rise, open a door, drag something forth, with a soft, rushing sound, and then he presented himself before me.

"Are you ready, now, for the argument about the divinity of Christ, Miss Frost?"

"No, sir, I am content to let it rest where we left it just now."

"I see you have no taste for argument. dom have," with a sneer.

Women sel·

I was foolish enough to be stung by the imputation. "I am not averse to argument," I retorted, "when there is anything to be gained by it. But I know you can do me no harm, and I suspect I can do you no good."

"You might, at least, try,"-arching his eyebrows.

I kept silent. The man repelled me so, that I would not enter upon a discussion with him.

"Miss Frost," he persisted, "you are afraid that your faith will be shaken."

"Not at all, sir. I am already tolerably well ac quainted with the infidel writings from which you must needs draw your arguments, since in infidelity—as in the earth-there is nothing new under the sun."

"Which means, I suppose," said he, looking at me keenly, "that you are a little better provided with counter arguments than most young women. I am glad of it; I like a 'foeman worthy of my steel."" Here Maggie turned her head with an uneasy and peevish movement. The symptom of weariness caught the father's eye, and his love for his child proved more potent, even, than his love of discussion. "I see that my talk worries Maggie," he said, hastily, “and we will leave the subject till another time. Miss Frost, I hope you will excuse it, if I quarter in the kitchen, to-night. Our sleeping accommodations are scant enough, at best; but now, with Sam taking the