It was by a deep involuntary sigh from my own lips that I was at last roused from my abstraction, and returned from the dream world of the past to a consciousness of my present environment and its conditions. I do not know for how long I sat thus tranced and oblivious of the silent, sympathizing group around me. As by a magic power they called up in a moment a mist of memories which shut me up in a world of my own-a world in which the present had no part. The gold and parchments, once so priceless, now carelessly scattered about the chamber, had lost their value, but these tokens of love had not parted with their potency through lapse of time.

'I do not expect, Julian,' she had written, 'that you will adopt all my relations as your own because you marry me-that would be too much-but my hero brother I want you to take for yours, and that is why I would like you to go with us to-day.' In it she asked me to join her family in their Decoration-day visit to the grave at Mount Auburn where her brother lay, who had fallen in the civil war. I took them from her, and opening one, found it to be a note dated May 30, 1887, the very day on which I parted with her forever. It was, in fact, as I noted with quite indescribable emotion, a packet of letters and notes from Edith Bartlett, written on various occasions during our relation as lovers, that Edith, her great-granddaughter, held in her hand.

It seems, then, you used safes for something besides money.'

Equality edward bellamy