SI WHO 18 MINL. fhe who is mine, whose soul is all my awn 48 mine 1s hers, long loved and curly known, With what warm havds, with what a lov ing face, Bhie gives me welcome to this quiet place. This cottage hearth, where we two dwel alone. Conteut with slmpls duties simply done; And she, at least, of ny» ambitious race, She who is mine. Ab, ves; Life's va u results have come and gom; And the dry heart, like a cold kernel stone Within its withered pulp and shrunken cave, Might well have lost such fulness and such grace As ovrce it had, but for this love, Mill grown And resolute and pure, that she inth shows, Bhe who is mine, [The Academy. rs POPPIES DILE MMA. A biting wind has everything its own way out of doors to-day. It whirls aw uy in trinmph tho few brown leaves that v » anything now, since you have refused hin,” and I end with a regrotful sigh. Poppie gets up from the floor and, “Susan,” she “1 want to ask your advice,” I do my best to suppress my astonish. ment at this remark, for never before was BOYS, at any rate, of mo-—uand respond inquir. * Yes, dear?” “1 did not exactly refuse Mr. Harris - wait a moment until 1 have please!" —as | prepare to give vent to a “I said *No' over and ever again when he asked me; but—I don’t know why it was would not take ‘No’ for an answer per. haps''—-smiling a little —* ‘he was too con- honor he wished to confer He declared that a woman's shivering branches of the big copper beech opposite to the library window; it moans dismally in chimneys, whistles shrilly through loose fitting window frames, and, in short, makes itscif as disagreeable as possible. Bat I, sittiog in my favorite chair in the snug library, and with a new and exciting “‘vellow. back” in my hand, bid defiance to the weather, congratulate mysell that I have and need not go outside. I have reckoned without my host, how. wer, for before I have read more than two chapters of my book, I hear a door opencd behind me and a voice say in- quiringly; “Susan!” It is Poy pie, and I know she will want to talk. bend lower down over the fire, tend not to hear; perhaps she will go away agnin. Vain hope! She closes the door and comes toward me. “Susan!” she says again. “Wali?” 1 reply unwillingly and with- out turning or raising my eyes. “I want to talk to you,” says Poppie, coaxingly. “1 know did,” is my inward re. mark. “Well,” I repeat aloud, “what is is it about?” And still I keep my eves fixed on the page, devoutly praying that Poppie will repent of disturbing me when she sees how engrossed 1 am, and will ieave me in peace. But she does no such thing; on the contrary she kneels down upon the hearth rug beside me and lays her two hands upon my book. “Don’t read, Susan,” she says, in her pretty imperative way?! “I really have something to say to you.” YOu to take a week to think over the matter, and at the end of that time to write and give him my final answer. The week will be up to-morrow, so I must come toa speedy decision. 1 told him at the time difference, that my must : but now--| know-—porhaps he was right--I have thought and rethought until I am half distracted, and I don’t know in the least what to say to him, after all. now reply Susan, and I want you to help me.” “It is hard for me to advise you, Pop- pie,” I say slowly, after we have sat for some time in silence. ‘You see, | have never seen this Mr. Harris, and never What kind of a man is he?" “l don’t think he is anvthing out of my sister answers reflectis ely. “He is good- natured and generous after a fashion: he has an exalted opinion of his own merits his money; and-—yes, “But he is fond of you?" I Poppie smiles slightly. “Wall, yes, | think 80.” she replies; at any rate, he wo doubt considers that | should suit his purpose very well. wants some one to wear his diamonds for him, drive in his carriages and ll his great houses with smart people—in facet, to help to show off his woalth; and all that I could do very well.” “It would be nice to be rich, very and tarn to my sister. I do not know why or how it is, but [ always find my- self obeying Poppie with most exemplary meckness, “What have you to say?” signedly. “It is about something that happened while | was at the Nugeats,” begins Pop. pie ‘Oh, I'm sure you must have told me everything about that visit!” I interrupt impatiently. “Did I ever say anything of a Mr. Harris?’ “No, I think not I reply doubtfully. “Well, then, you must know he was staying there, too, nearly all time that I was,” says Poppie, sitting on the floor beaide me, her hands clasped round her knoos and her face turned towards the fire. “Hoe is a youngish-oldish man ~you know what I mean—no particular age—very tall and big, with a large round face, like a red moon more than anything elso. He is a retired merchant or manufacturer, and has Leaps of money, which be bas made in business. He hus a lovely place somewhere in the lake country and a splendid house in Park lane; and Mrs. Nugent told us he I asked re- -I don’t remember,’ ne i | year.” She pauses, and, taking up the poker, beging most unnecessarily to st.r the fire. “Well, is that all?” I ask after a short silence. ‘*Not quite all.” replies Poppie calmly, the poker upon a sputtering, fizzing log. “He aske? me to marry him.” She speaks with such utter unconcern “You are joking,’ taking up my “and I oh you care for my opinion on the subject.” “It isnot n jok truly it is not!” declares Poppie, drop- ping the poker with a clatter into the fender and turning round to me, “I am quite in oarnost, I assure you!” For a fow seconds I stare at her in silent amazement. Then she begins to laugh. “Is it then so surprising?” she asks, putting her lovely face close to mine and slancing saucily up at me. “Susan, do, or pity sake, shut your eyes and mouth! You look so utterly absurd!” “Well,” 1 ejaculated, ‘I must confess Iam surprised; 1 have not quite taken itin yet. But why did you not tell me of it before?” I add repronchfully. “You camo home on Monday last, and this is Thursday-—1 call it a shame!” “Bat, now that I have told do you say?” “I thirk it is by far the most delight- ful pieco of mews 1 ever heard!” | an. swerod excitedly. “To think that you will have twenty thousand a year and a house in Park lane and" “Stop, stop!” cries Poppie. “Yon are running on much too fast, Susan, for 1-1 did not ncoept him,” “Didn't ncoept him?” I echo blankly, “My poor susan,” says Pop io, langh- ing again as she puts her soft little hand upon mine, “are you terribly disap- pointed?” oo] am,” 1 re fully-—*‘dread ' 1 ery weathfully, “yellow back” again; you, what lied solemnly and mourn. ully disappointed! It would be, oh, so 9 Dies if iy: ware mur- rT such a ightfu man as this Mr. Harris sooms to be! Bat, ¥ \ | “Yes, | know that: but everything?” says Poppie. “Of course you could not be expected love him,” I begin hesitatingly. What an idea!” “But so many people marry for money nowadays; and voa don't—" | pause for a fow seconds, and then continue ner. “you don't love aay one else, | MOR, Poppie? : ’ suppose not.” she returns is money to “Of course not. sup .“ cause’ “Because sharply. “Becauss I once fancied I may have been wrong, and you must not be vexed with me if | was—but I did fancy there was something between vou and Jack Neville,” I blurted out desperately. scarlet and then she asks quietly: “What made you think so?” “Oh, I don’t know-—lots of things!” Ireply. “Yonhave been a great deal together all your lives, and—— Bat | suppose there was noth- what?’ she savs a little Poppie flushes frowns: n iT a i I was wrong; ng ' * Ng thing whatever —vou are quite wrong!’ sh but a my glance and moves restlessly in her chair, “Il amsorry,” | say stupidly, “I should have liked Jack for my brother in-law, and _ I come to a sudden stop, for Poppie has risen quickly from her seat and stands before me with angry oyvos and flushed cheeks. The next minute, how- ever, she presses her quivering lips to- gether and turns away, ‘You have wandered @ Gnawers, she oiia fro m the point “Wo were discussing Mr. Harris, not Jack Neville, and we do not seam to be get- ting any nearer to a decision.” “Suppose you write a letter and see tit fooks like!” | suggest, She walks over to the little writing pen into the ink. “Which ought I to put, Susan, ‘Dear oh Ee ““I'bat will depend, I think, on what I reply. “Try ‘Dear’ first, “What comes next, supposing this to prompt glibly, * ‘i regret that I must adhere to my former decision.” “It sounds just like a Polite Lotter Writer,” objects Popple; but I suppose 1 must put something like that;" and she writes it down. “It looks perfectly hor- rid, Susan!” she goes on plaintively. “Oh, why did I ever say that I would write? | had no idea it would be so dif. ficalt. If one could put just plain ‘Yes’ or ‘No,’ and sign one’s name to it, how much easier it would be!" “Try something else then; see what it would look like if you said ‘Yes.'” She takes a fresh sheet of paper, “] suppose it must be ‘M Doar this time,” she says, sighing. Well, Basan, I've committed i J far; but it seems more hopelessly hard than the re. fusal. How in the world am Ito word it?” WhileI rack my brains for a suitable sentence Popple gazes disconsolatoly out of the window. Suddenly the pen falls from her fingers and she pushes back her chair with a sappressed ex- clamation ns some one on a brown cob rides swiftly past the window, a “Who was it?” 1 asked eagerly, got- ng up. “It was Jack,” replies Poppie slowly. She has risen to her feet and stands with her hand on the back of the chair. “How nice of him to come over and seo us! I don't believe he jas bon here * upon the fire in anticipation of our | i visitor. But when I turned again toward | my sister I perceive that she has hurried | to tho door and is in the act of turning {the handle. “Poppies,” I ery, flying | | neross the room to her side, “where aro | | vou going?” {. “I have a headacho—I Oh, Busan, {let me go! You can tell Jack I was i { i i i sorry not to see him-~anything you like; but She pulls her arm from my de. | { taining grasp and opens the door for | flight; but she is too late—Juck Neville { is ulready standing on the mat outside. “How are you?" I say choerfully, as 1 hold out 8 welcoming hand to him. I have not seen you for so long that [ had olmost forgotten what you were like!” He laugh« a little as he shakes hands i | with me, and then turns quickly to Pop- | | pie, who is standing silently beside me with her eyes fixed on the carpet. “So you have come back at last!" he! BOYS, “It appears so,” sho returns, still with- | out looking at him. “Before you went away we quarrelled, Poppie, didn't we?’ ho goes on hastily. “Are we friends aguin now, or are we enomies?”’ Slowly Poppie looks up from the floor | to his fuce; then she colors o little as { she puts her band into his and answers nervously: “Let us be friends.’ “Well, Susan,” says Jack a little later, | a8 he stands with his buck to the fire sip- | ping hot tea, “*have you any news to tell me?” “No,” I reply, shakinz my head ns 1 { shut the lid of the teapot with a bang; “but | might have if “What an enigmatical remark!” he exclaims, laughing. “What does it mean? You might have if —what? “I am not sare if 1 may tell you" 1 | answer, casting a doubtful look at Pop- He, ‘Oh, then it concerns Poppie, this mysterious piece of news?” glances at her too. “May I tell?” I ask persunsis ely. “Certainly, if you wish to do 80,” re. turns my sister “Well, then, Jack, Poppie has had a proposal from a very rich man, and she | can’t make up her mind whether to ac- cept him or not. Isn't it odd?” “lun't what odd?’ “That she is not able to decide wha say to him, | § ! i does it, and he to Of course it would not be but then have h, everything she could possibly want; and, if that ber and make her happy forever after, as the story book says, what would? “What, ind 8 Jack slowly an thoughtfully, o love mate she would O sntiuf would not satisfy o.4 ‘As y 82% Ou say, dusan, i ery odd ” Ihave known Jack Nevi still I do aot Jui mn for childhood ; him. He has an sooming to agree with te 4 une one, an indescribable something and Wises a suspicion that quietness of face Bri nt he is one all the time, “* Ja k. I nin earnest,” I say, a little reproachfal He tarns to me quickly. “So am 1, Susan.” And as I look search im I ean. not detect the faintest glimmer of a laugl i on his g handsome f stoady eves {in gly ath ye Ce “Well, then, I wish vou would | Of course be for her to decide for Poppie. want to do what will ness “Of course.’ ‘but what way do Lio: : At this Poppie wd, coming over to the i down her empty cup and tarns to Jack ‘I assure vou l have no inclination one way or the other, she savs hurrie ily, with a faint. is little laugh: “I stand on perfectly neutral ground; it a matter of absolute indifference to me “That being the case, would it not the fairest and simplest way lots?" Jack quietly suggests “Uf course it would! How stupid to have thought of that before,” | ory, rising quickly and ronning over to the writing table. “I will just write ‘Yes’ on one piece of paper and ‘No’ on an. other, and then fold them in exactly the { same way.” When I return withthe neatly folded slips of paper in my hand | notice with some surprise that my sister is flushed { and that her oyes gleam excitedly, which soems strange in a person who hardly | five minutes ago declared herself por. fectly indifferent as to the upshot of the affair. ‘‘Now, then, Popple, will you draw?’ I say briskly. “I myself do not really { know which is which.” Quickly drawing back her dark head, | Poppie steps forward. Jack is standing | at a little distance bohind her, intently | 8 lin? rises from her ten table, noeryo in ha fo draw not watching as sho stretches out her hand | toward the paper that is to decide her | | fate. She on for n moment, touch. | ing the slips irresolutely, then her fingers | i close firmly upon one. | “I will take this,” she says, alittle ex- | | citedly, i | “Very Well. Now bo quick and open {it for I do not know which itis!” I cry { eagerly. | As she stands before me without mov- i ing all the pretty eslor fades out of her | face, “I am afraid to look,” she says, in a tone that is only a little louder than a whisper; then she tarns round suddenly | to Jack. “Will you read it for me?” she | says, putting the paper hurriedly into his hand and drawing a deep breath. Slowly oh, so slowly!-