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"Oh, Tyrrel, if it was--if it was! What a beautiful dreaive Dora? Would he come back to her?"

"No!" Tyrrel's voice was positive and even stern "No, he could never coo to him She left him without any reason I do not think he would care to see her again"

"I would say no more, Tyrrel I do not think as you do It is a dreaination But if it were true, Basil would wish no pilgrie of abasement He would say to her, 'Dear one, HUSH! Love is here, travel-stained, sore and weary, but so happy to welcoreat, sweet heart to her May I tell Dora soood for her to dream about"

"Do you think she cares? Did she ever love him?"

"He was her first love She loved hiht--safe, I mean, to tell Dora----"

"On this subject there is so much NOT to say I would never speak of it"

"Itthose truths that should be held back, and it is likely only a trick of ination, a supposition, a fancy"

"A miracle! And of two miracles I prefer the least, and that is that Basil is dead Your young preacher is a drea, long, happy day! I want to sleep My eyes are shutting as I talk to you Such a long, long, happy day!"

"And so , happy days to come, dearest"

"So many," she answered, as she took Tyrrel's hand, and lifted her fur and fan and gloves "What were those lines we read together the night before ere et, I am so tired I know that life should have h, and little cares, and now be quiet, and now astir, till God's hand beckoned us unawares----"

The rest was inaudible But between that long, happy day and the present tih to place the union of Tyrrel and Ethel Rawdon a those blessed bridals that are "The best of life's romances"