WYLDER'S HAJVD. 421 men and women always quite unlike the rest of the world — unlike the human race; and somehow they interest me unspeakably. I wish I knew more about those proud, forlorn beauties, whose portraits are fading on the walls. When I was a little thing, I used to look at them with a feeling of melancholy and mystery. They were in my eyes, reserved prophetesses, who could speak, if they would, of my own future." "A poor support, Dorcas — a broken reed. I wish we could find another — the true one, in the present, and in the coming time." Dorcas smiled faintly, and I think there was a little gleam of a ghastly satire in it. I am afraid that part of her education which deals with futurity, had been neglect- ed. "I am more likely to turn into a Lady Macbeth than a devote," said she, coldly, with the same painful smile. "I found myself last night sitting up in my bed, talking in the dark about it." There was a silence for a time, and Rachel said — "It is growing late, Dorcas." "But you must not go, Rachel — you must stay and keep me company — you must, indeed, Radie," said Dor- cas. "So I will," she answered; "but I must send a line to old Tamar; and I promised Dolly to go down to her to-night, if that darling little boy should be worse — I am very unhappy about him." "And is he in danger, the handsome little fellow," said Dorcas. "Very great danger, I fear," said Rachel. "But children recover wonderfully. What is his ail- ment?" "Gastric fever, the Doctor says. I had a foreboding