That day, Elizabeth, from her window overlooking the garden, had seen a picture that she never forgot.  It was about noon, all the warmth that was in the December sun filled the garden (which the leafless trees no longer shaded).  There was no snow on the ground, for the few stray flakes premonitory of winter which had fallen from time to time in the month had melted almost as soon as they had touched the ground.  The air was like an Indian summer’s day; it seemed impossible that winter could be round the corner waiting only for a change of wind.  The tracery of the boughs of the trees and of all their little twigs against the blue sky was exquisite, the stalks of the dead flowers warmed into a livelier brown in the sunlight.  Yet it may have been partly the figures in the foreground that made the whole picture so bright to Elizabeth, for to her the place was filled with the lovers who were walking there and talking, probably saying those nothings, so far as practical matters go, which they may indulge in freely only before the thousand cares of life interfere with their utterances.  Stephen had come to the house, and Katie and he were taking what they were sure would prove to be their last opportunity for quiet talk before the wedding.  They went slowly down the long path to the clematis arbor, and then turned back again, for it was not warm enough to sit down out of doors.  Elizabeth watched them as they walked toward the house, and a warmth came into her own face in her pleasure.  “Dear Katie,” she said to herself, “she is sure to be so happy.”  The young girl’s hand lay on Archdale’s arm, and she was looking up at him with a smile full of joyousness.  Archdale’s head was bent and the watcher could not see his eyes, but his attitude of devotion, his smile, and Katie’s face told the story.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

* * * * *

GLORIFYING TRIAL BY JURY.

By CHARLES COWLEY, LL.D.

Twice within two years representatives of the highest courts of Massachusetts have published in the North American Review, panegyrics of jurics and jury trials.  The late Judge Foster and Judge Pitman both concede—­what indeed is too notorious to be denied—­that there are frequent and gross miscarriages of justice; but they touch lightly on this aspect of the question.  Being personally identified with the institution which they extol, their self-complacency is neither unnatural nor unpardonable.  It seems not to have occurred to them, that if a reform of our judiciary is really needed, they are “a part of the thing to be reformed.”  But in weighing their testimony to the advantages of trial by jury, allowance must be made for the bias of office and for the bias of interest.  In the idolatrous throng which drowned the voice of St. Paul with their halcyon and vociferous shouts, “Great is Diana of the Ephesians!” there was no one who shouted louder than the thrifty silversmith, Demetrius, who added the naive remark, “By this craft we live.”