pearl long after her weary feet had traversed other lands and sown again in the rough places the finer seeds. At early dawn Truth went forth from the cottage and the kind woman who had sheltered her. They had enjoyed much together in their mutual relation. Trust met trust, hope clasped hope, and each was stronger for the soul exchange. When the sun rose in the heavens Truth was on her way, while Error, tossed in feverish dreams upon her bed, thought the Sun was angry with her, and was sending his fierce rays upon her head to censure or madden her. But he was only trying to waken her and urge her to go on with her sister. A sense of relief came when she opened her eyes and found it was, after all, only a dream. Yet the pleasure was brief; for a sharp pain shot through her temples, her brow was feverish, and her pulses throbbed wildly. "Oh, for the pure air and the cool, refreshing grass!" she cried. "Oh, better the highway with its friendly blossoms than this couch of down and this stifled atmosphere which I am breathing!" How she longed for Truth then, to cool her brow with the touch of her gentle hand. "Come back, oh, come to me, Truth!" she cried, so hard that the whole household heard and came to her bedside. "She is ill and delirious!" they cried in one voice. The family physician was summoned, who pronounced the case fearful and her life fast ebbing. "For whom shall we send?" said Mrs. Highbred, who was unused to scenes of distress and now longed to have her guest far from her dwelling. "For her sister Truth," said one. "Truth--Truth," said the physician. "Is it possible?" and he gazed from one to another for revelation. "Truth is her sister," said one of the younger members, and added, "I think she is far better and prettier than Error,--" "Far better, far better," continued the physician, looking only at the child, and inwardly saying, "Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings come words of wisdom." "I met her on the hill,--the one you call Truth," he said, in answer to the searching look of Mrs. Highbred, who by manner and inquiry plainly manifested her desire to have an end of the unusual state of things. "I will go for her. She will return with me," continued the doctor, "and soon we will find some spot to which we can remove Error." A look of relief came over the face of the lady as he departed. Truth heard not the sound of the horses, nor the rumbling of wheels as they approached, so intent were her thoughts on separation from her