Chance has meted you a measure of happiness: that I know. I knew it before I came here this evening. She has laid it carefully on one side for you. I saw her do it. It depends on yourself to stretch out your hand, and take it up: but whether you will do so, is the problem I study. Kneel again on the rug.”

“Don’t keep me long; the fire scorches me.”

She did not stoop towards me, but only gazed, leaning

back in her chair

I knelt. She did not stoop towards me, but only gazed, leaning back in her chair. She began muttering, —

“The flame flickers in the eye; the eye shines like dew; it looks soft and full of feeling; it smiles at my jargon: it is