Winds that beat across the ocean,
Wand’ring stars and clouds that kiss us,
Bring your broken, sobbing music
To our feet, and die, confessing—
“This is greatness, this is rest!”
LETTERS FROM A LAWYER.
PART IX.
The Temple.
My dear Dorothy,—I was very sorry to hear that your holiday had commenced in such a disastrous manner; but you were quite justified in leaving the furnished house which you had taken for a month at the end of the first week, when you found that the drainage was in a defective condition.