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 they could find the key to its music; that they could then discover the master-tone which should rule their future destiny.

For a time they sat in awe; for, as the night-breeze swept over the instrument, they were oppressed with a strange sense of the surrounding invisible presence.

“Let us try the spell,” at length said Mira; “a little low sound is rising in my heart, which may be the key to our music.”

“Pause yet a moment,” whispered Ernesta, “oh! pause, my sister, and think that of all the great world’s harmony, the tone you choose this day must rule your life for ever.”

“I have no fear,” said Mira, touching the outer chord.

A deep harsh note arose from the instrument: the trees reared their heads towards the sky, and the night-winds raised their voices. The weak vines in their dreaming clasped the trees convulsively, and seemed striving to climb to their summits.

Mira saw gleaming eyes in the darkness, and heard the murmur of strife in the air: even the very grass-blades jostled each other, as they stood side by side.

“Ah!” said Mira, shuddering, “this is Ambition&mdash;this is not the master-tone which should rule the world.”

With a trembling hand she touched the second chord. A faint indefinite sound, neither music nor discord, played around the lute. The trees swung carelessly, and the vines loosed their hold; the clear waters stagnated; the air was filled with heavy vapour; and all the while there issued from the lute the dull monotonous tone of indolent Content. “That is not music,” said Mira indignantly.

“Once more, my sister,” said Ernesta; and again she tried the chords.

A flash like sunlight played through the darkness;&mdash;a sweet rich strain arose from the lute, and a richer, deeper, sweeter music faintly re-echoed the notes around. The waters smiled and murmured; the little flowers laid their cheeks against each other like happy sleeping children; each created thing responded to the all-pervading music of Love.

“This is the tone,” cried Mira enchanted;&mdash;“this is the one great master-key of existence: it is not to toil, nor to strive, nor