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"Mors omnia vincit," quoth Jonathan, casting up his eyes. "Never you mind that; mind your own business. That's the postman's knock see if there are any letters."

At last it was towards midnight she yielded to the force that compelled. Against her will she unfolded the shielding paper and held that which it contained upon the palm of her hand. Burning rubies, red as heart's blood, ardent as flame, flashed and glinted in the lamp-light. "OMNIA VINCIT AMOR" how the words scorched her memory! And she had wondered once if they were true! She knew now!

The names are principally those of Swedes and Norwegians from every part of Scandinavia; but the English make a very respectable showing; and one of them, who had waited at least an hour for the summit of Gousta to emerge from the morning mist that enveloped it, wrote upon one of the pages: "Patientia omnia vincit?"

What's here? for fitting the Motto of Risum teneatis Amici to a dozen Pamphlets at Sixpence per each, Six Shillings For Omnia vincit Amor, & nos cedamus Amori, Sixpence For Difficile est Satyram non scribere, Sixpence Hum! hum! hum! Sum total, for Thirty-six Latin Motto's, Eighteen Shillings; ditto English, One Shilling and Nine- pence; ditto Greek, Four, Four Shillings.

Daisy was frowning over the inscription within it, but she was fully aware of the soft colour that had flooded the girl's face at her words. "OMNIA VINCIT AMOR," she read slowly. "That is it, isn't it? Ah, yes, and the history of it. It's rather sad. Do you mind?" "I am used to sad things," Muriel reminded her, with her face turned away toward the mountains. Daisy pressed her hand gently.

Better country. A horse staked. Bluff-faced hills. The Anthony Range. Cool nights. Tent-shaped hills. Fantastic mounds. Romantic valley. Picturesque scene. A gum creek. Beautiful country. Gusts of fragrance. New and independent hills. Large creek. Native well. Jimmy's report. The Krichauff. Cold nights. Shooting blacks. Labor omnia vincit. Thermometer 28 degrees. Dense scrubs. Small creek.

They were so tiny that it took her a long time to puzzle them out. With difficulty at length she deciphered the quaint letters, but even then it was some time before she grasped the meaning that they spelt. It flashed upon her finally, as though a voice had spoken into her ear. The words were: OMNIA VINCIT AMOR. And the ring in her hand was no longer the outward visible sign of her compact.

The author of "Moll Flanders" and "The Fortunate Mistress" might moralize upon the unhappy consequences of love, but he was inclined to regard passion with an equal mind. He stated facts simply. Love, in his opinion, was not a strong motive when uncombined with interest. But Eliza Haywood held the romantic watchword of all for love, and her books are a continual illustration of Amor vincit omnia.

The head was slightly raised: a look of gladness lighted up the beautiful features; and within the loosely clasped hands was a cluster of roses. Bound the pedestal were carved the words, "Omnia vincit Amor," with Zara's name and the dates of her birth and death. A little slip of paper lay at the foot of the statue, which Heliobas perceived, and taking it he read and passed it to me.

Sure, love vincit omnia; is immeasurably above all ambition, more precious than wealth, more noble than name. He knows not life who knows not that: he hath not felt the highest faculty of the soul who hath not enjoyed it. In the name of my wife I write the completion of hope, and the summit of happiness.