INCOMPLETENESS. No joy is in itself complete, But from the past or future borrows: No day is altogether sweet "Tis made up both of joys and sor- rows. No flower blooms for self alone, No wave but has another near it, And echo but repeats the tone Like circles made by rippling waves, The limits of our lives are rounded By the heartbeats of those we love Our happiness on theirs is founded. Without God's has the soul Who made it knows its incomplete- Ness, Till Love rounds out the perfect Whole And fills it full Strength and Sweetness, Margarer’s Secret naught race of “She 18 80 cold!” Margaret. “A fine girl, Sometimes Margaret heard them, and smiled—a half-mocking smile. knew of warm affections, of fierce re- sentments, of passionate dreams that kept her lying awake through the night; of moments of anguish and hot tears. She knew that this outward coldness was but that of snow lying above a volcano. One feelings were not 80 strong might have dared to show them to the world; Margaret dared not. She knelt ing something of and tidily packed for a journey. On the morrow to leave her village home to teach music in a city boarding She finished it speedily, and then stood beside the little window, looking out upon road-—-grass-grown, and little troubled by wheels; and, beyond a little a field or two; a spire pointing heaven ward; and purple hue of mountains. From this very window had Mar- garet looked upon this very scene for years—almost had been for her. It was hard to leave it hard to her few friends. One must be richer than Margaret many lay at could have left all others softening of the heart, a lingering regret, which not have wished to conquer; but so cold!” whose beside her trunk, think- it she wis school, wood: a dis ever since years leave to have deepest the girl's heart. She with a ur little fn te or two, could but it a different thing to leave Christopher Hayes, who did not care all for be ing left did ure, as she knew, whether she stayed Margaret had had and richer tl who, to other eyes, was only a not very ill-looking young man attached to the telegraph of Fernley, did not even triumph in contests they were all worthless Christopher had flirtation by forgetting all about Margaret had but one comfort in the matter—that guessod loved him. “She she wis it who not « 1 or went, hand Christopher admirers, Some Hin office She these to her since proved his month's it was, Christopher ne never could guess, that she Margaret had had well in the churen- statue” is a heard him say. “One as make love to the marble yard yonder.” Now, glimpse of one touch of Feruley, it could not go without we would not! And she put on her hat and turned villageward, -and soon came to the little telegraph offize, on which the setting sun of the August day flung his beams aslant, lighting up windows finely, and lighting also a youngish head with a rather pleasant face, under what any one else would have called very red hair'—to Mar garet it golden! The face was turned the other way. “How beautiful herself. “What soul there in face! Oh, Christopher! Christopher Never in her life had she called him anything but “Mr. Haves," Christopher to her the statue was burning the man she loved so: for left She his hand before she might be, forever! i it sl was to his he is!” she sald is but he was Once or twice she repeated the name, “Christopher! Christopher!” And then, with her quiet smile, walked up to the lounging figure at the door, and dared to what not one woman in a thousand, desperately and hopelessly in love as she was, would have dared to do: of- fered him her hand! “I saw you as | passed the office, Mr. | Hayes,” she said, in her low. meas- | ured tones; “and since I am going away to-morrow, made up my mind that it would be the time to say good. bye.” “Going away!” he exclaimed. “Why. Miss Margaret, you were one of the institutions here, I thought. mis” you. It is cerainly very cruel of yer. Though, to be sure. for your pat I congratulate you. a dn'l place.” “Yes—it is dull” “But then [I like habit, you know." “Else how could one endure this.” he sald, looking into the office, and yawn- ing a little. “I beg your pardon.” he | sald, apologetically, for his stretched | mouth, “but it is so stupid here.” She laughed, “I'm like Robinson Crusoe,” he sald, | “It's very good of you to come out of | Your way to say good-bye, Miss Mar. garet, to an isolated wretch like me.” “Sorry to quench your vanity,” she | laughed; “but perhaps 1 should not | have thought of it had it not been Just | in my way. Good-bye, then.” “A pleasant journey,” said he: then forgot all about her, His eye grew bright, his face flushed, His glance passed Margaret. She turned her head, A little pony carriage, driven by a girl, was whirling softly over the do said it. Nothing like | wood's parasol. The carriage stopped. The little gloved hand beckoned. “Excuse me, Miss Margaret,” said | Christopher, and ran away to obey the | Summons. | For one moment Margaret was white | to the very lips; the next she smiled and buttoned her glove, | “It's only about a message, Mr. | Hayes,” twittered Victoria, “1 want | papa to bring me up some lace to-mor One can't go down such days as { these." And there was more of it, and some | scribbling on a bit of paper. | Meanwhile, Margaret saw something a pile of small vignettes, on a under the window, the “counterfeit presentments” of Christopher. | drew near; one arm rested on the sill; [ the other hand darted [ row, between its fingers. The vignette was in her pocket; and she away | from the window, and Chris | topher on the road. | “On!” eried he, apologetic, more; “are you going? So sorry, | business must be attended to, | know. Good-bye.” | Again their hands met. He lifted his hat. Victoria, who did not know Mar- garet except by sight, glided passed but you regarded reserved by some young women, who are all smiles and blushes before their masculine adorers, and her way quietly, as though she had not seen the look. “Don’t you think dreadfully funny 7" queried Victoria, a little anxi ous to disparage “I've heard her called said Christopher; Margaret's face was a statue's: she went she's fine-looking.” “but she is 80 cold no animation.” Victoria bestowed her arch loox upon { him, and said: “She is cold: a perfect hor rid I think;” and up her reins, and drove the pony off, looking so archly that Christopher's brain went tin a whirl for 1} Meanwhile, Margaret had made her adieux, and was whirling eityward, with Christopher's portrait next t iceberg: gathered TOUS, 0 her | heart, Beautiful, the 80 cold, sald those at Margaret, And of friends were tut could mot go for nothing, any more than her ex face had Nhe but Seminary, of Cause this coldness few, Margaret's voice quisite She her nd ths admirers, male a female made a conguest in rut HIST fortnight; had an offer in refused No the vears passed pict then a a mouth, and It, She Kissed the stolen ure every night, and now dropped on and it fear it photographs Ways will plnmp and ovoyish; the was growing will been « hite, a little yellow had pale-blue eves, cheeks had a The eyes i th sun 80 record The Ose re frousse toss in he al Wis a pleasant face, 110 tha of one wonld ever to do or he anything: bu* it t Margaret it which had Was pure perfection to was Angust the very month frol again in n Fernley flitted three years before. The did In took the city, always full of interest to her Ney ation, but she holidas she long wnlks in She went into the picture galleries and whiled away hours at nati pleasant nees, alone in the crowd “What some.” cold face, 1 a it very her: and the long yearning had made no mark upon it, any more than had the dull th heart Wis strangers said of rob of pain at her The face colder lier than took it through the open door of a church Fifth as Carriages door, gaily-dressed wedding was afoot: and woman will not delight in a wedding? Mar garet sat in a seat half way up a side aisle