"My bride, My wife, my life.

O we will walk this world Yok'd in all exercise of noble aim And so through those dark gates across the wild That no man knows." -- TENNYSON'S PRINCESS.
Elsie's tears were falling fast, but an arm as strong and kind as her father's stole quietly about her, a hand as gentle and tender as a woman's drew the weary head to a resting-place on her husband's shoulder, smoothed back the hair from the heated brow, and wiped away the falling drops.
"My wife! my own precious little wife!" How the word, the tone, thrilled her! her very heart leaped for joy through all the pain of parting from one scarcely less dear.

"My husband," she murmured, low and shyly--it seemed so strange to call him that, so almost bold and forward--"my dear, kind friend, to be neither hurt nor angry at my foolish weeping." "Not foolish, dear one, but perfectly natural and right.

I understand it; I who know so well what your father has been to you these many years." "Father and mother both." "Yes; tutor, friend, companion, confidant, everything.

I know, dear little wife, that you are sacrificing much for me, even though the separation will be but partial.