It was a collection of translations from the Persian poets, gentlemen of the name of Jemshid, Sadi, and Hafiz, of whom she had never heard.

As she turned over the pages, she heard the ringing of horses' hoofs, and, looking out from her point of observation, saw Charles and Lady Grace cantering up the short wide approach, and clattering out of sight again behind the great stone archway.

She turned back to her book, and was reading an ode here and there, wondering to see how the same thoughts that work within us to-day had lived with man so many hundred years ago, when her eye was caught by some writing on the margin of a page as she turned it over.

A single sentence on the page was strongly underlined: _"True self-knowledge is knowledge of God."_ Jemshid was a wise man, Ruth thought, if he had found out that; and then she read, in Charles's clear handwriting in the margin: _"With this compare 'Look within.

Within is the fountain of good, and it will ever bubble up if thou wilt ever dig.'-- Marcus Aurelius."_ At this moment Charles came into the library, and looked up to where she was sitting, half hidden from below by the thickness of the wall.
"What, studying ?" he called, gayly.