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ETHEL CHURCHILL.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
PARTING.
That is love
Which chooseth from a thousand only one
To be the object of that tenderness
Natural to every heart; which can resign
Its own best happiness for one dear sake;
Can bear with absence; hath no part in hope,
For hope is somewhat selfish: love is not,
And doth prefer another to itself.
"Do not," whispered Walter, as he watched Ethel's eyes glance round the room, and then turn mournfully on himself, "do not pity the poverty which surrounds me; but for that I should have lost the greatest happiness life has known. It is to your gentle charity that
