heard from her. The noble vessel that bore her proudly away neither reached her destination, nor returned back with her precious freight. All--all found a grave in the dark depths of the ocean. "It is a terrible thing, my friend, to be _thus_ reft of all you hold dearest in life. If I had seen her touched by the hand of disease, and watched the rose fading from her cheek, leaf after leaf falling away, until death claimed at last his victim, I could have borne the severe affliction with some degree of fortitude. Even if she had been struck down suddenly at my side, there would have been something for the bruised heart to rest upon. But to be taken from me thus! Her fate shrouded in a most fearful mystery! Oh! it is terrible!" And the young man set his teeth firmly, and clenched his hands, in a powerful struggle with his still o'ermastering feelings. At length he resumed, a calmer voice-- "No matter what terrors or violence attended her death--no matter how deep she lies in the unfathomable sea, her spirit is with the blessed angels, for she was pure and good. This ought to be enough for me. The agonies of a fearful departure are long since over. And why should I recall them, and break up afresh the tender wounds that bleed at the slightest touch? Henceforth I will strive to look away from the past, and onward, in pleasing hope, to that future time when we shall meet where there will be no more parting." "She must have been a lovely creature indeed," said Milford, some minutes after his friend had ceased, holding, as he spoke, the miniature in his hand, and looking at it attentively. "She was lovely as innocence itself," was the half abstracted reply. "Although I never saw her, yet there is an expression in her face that is familiar"--Milford went on to say--"very familiar; but it awakens, I cannot tell why, a feeling of pain. This face is a happy face; and yet t seems every moment as if it would change into a look of sadness--yea, of deep sorrow and suffering." "This may arise, and no doubt does, from the melancholy history connected with her, that I have just related." "Perhaps that is the reason," Milford returned, thoughtfully. "And yet I know not how to account for the strangely familiar expression of her face." "Did you ever see a picture in your life that had not in it some feature that was familiar?" asked Perkins. "Perhaps not," the friend replied, and then sat in mental abstraction for some moments. He was not satisfied with this