`I know hardly any poetry,' he replied mournfully.

`Don't you? These are some of them:

There was a Being whom my spirit oft
Met on its visioned wanderings far aloft.. . . . .A seraph of Heaven, too gentle to be human,
Veiling beneath that radiant form of woman....

`It is you, dear; exactly like you!'

`Now I forgive you! And you shall kiss me just once there - not very long.' She put the tip of her finger gingerly to her cheek; and he did as commanded. `You do care for me very much, don't you, in spite of my not - you know?'

`Yes, sweet!' he said with a sigh; and bade her good-night.