night troops of fairies; by day, by night, each mo-
ment must array around you the good wishes of the
world. No, not alone; the very sky is filled with
watchers and the ground covered with invisible
feet, that have come here to do you homage; then
why not I found here to pay you mine? Are you
still angry?"

"You have offended me," she answered;--"and
yet perhaps I am too severe with you. I fear I am
ungrateful. 'Mean,' did I say? It was mean in me
to say so, and most forgetful of the favor conferred
here by you this morning. No, I vow it was not
mean -- at least in _you_. And yet it was mean, it
was very mean in you, sir, thus to overstep the gol-
den mean of manners. Scourge you? Ah, I fear you
well deserve it; -- and yet if I could, I would put to
scourging that word, 'mean,' that has just escaped
from out of my petulent lips, as sometimes a froward,
disobedient child runs into danger; breaking away
from out of the nurse's arms. But you should not
have played the bold intruder, and joined in these
vain vigils; -- nay, begone, or I must, myself, with-
draw. I do entreat you, stay no longer; come some
other time, -- but go to-night; make no excuse for
staying, or you may yet compel me to be angry with
you. Indeed, I fear that I am too forgiving. Go, I
pardon you, -- but go at once, or I may yet repent
to have condoned what it, in truth, were hard to
justify."

"Heaven pardons heavier sins," observed the
stranger.

"Yes, when its pardon is sought for;" was re-
joined; "but I pardon you without your craving

[[38]]

p037 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p038w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p039

v?