Chapter V

When I entered the parlor, Mr. Higgins sat gazing into the fire in
an attitude of deep reflection, and did not note my entrance until
I had touched him. His dishevelled hair hung from his massive
temples in majestic discomposure, and an extinguished torch lay
smouldering at his glorious feet.

O my soul's idol! I can see thee now as I saw thee then, with the
firelight glowing over thee, like a smile from the cerulean skies!

As I touched him, he awoke.

"Miserable girl!" he exclaimed, in those old familiar tones,
drawing me towards him, while a delicious tremor shook my every
nerve. "Wretched little serpent! And is it thus we meet? Poor
idiot, you are but a woman, and I--alas! what am I? Two hours ago,
I set fire to three churches, and crushed a sexton 'neath my iron
heel. Do you not shrink? 'Tis well. Then hear me, viper, _I lovest
thee_."

Was it the music of a higher sphere that I smelt, or was I still in
this world of folly and sin? And were all my toils, my cares, my
heart-breathings, my hope-sobbings, my soul-writhings to end thus
gloriously at last in the adoration of a being on whom I lavished
all the spirit's purest gloatings?

My bliss was more than I could endure. Tearing all the hair-pins
from my hair and tying my pocket handkerchief about my heaving
neck, I flung myself upon his steaming chest.

"_My_ Higgins!"

"YOUR Higgins!!"

"OUR Higgins!!!"

THE BLISSFUL FINIS.

The intellectual women of America draw it rather tempestuously when they try to reproduce gorgeous manhood; but they mean well, my boy,--they mean well.

Yours, in a brown study,

ORPHEUS C. KERR.