Alexander's Bridge

ived alone, attended by a very pretty and competent French servant who answered the door and brought in the tea. Alexander arrived early, and some twenty-odd people dropped in

y long, indeed, before his coat hung with a discouraged sag from his gaunt shoulders and his hair and beard were rumpled as if he had been out in a gale. His dry humor went under a cloud of absent-minded kindli

holar who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension. On other matters he was perfectly rational and he was easy and pleasing in conversation. He looked very much like Agassiz, and his wife, in her old-fashioned black silk dress, overskirted and tight-sleeved, reminded Alexander of the early pictures of Mrs. Browning. Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple, and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his

tate of mind. For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled, and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure. On Thursday afternoon he

't see you. Wi

nday evening at

.

at the door and conducted him upstairs. Hilda was writing in her living-room, under the light of a tall

nd and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly part

owing to that same chance, by the way, that I am able to ask you to dinner. I don't need Marie to dress me this season, so she keeps house for me, and

bout the room, loo

y little place I think this is. Where did you get t

e American artist who did them. They are all sketches made about the Villa d'Este, you see

I like. You haven't got anything that doesn't belong. Seems to me it looks particul

clean-really clean, as the French are. Why do you look at the flowers so cri

every one saying such nice things about you. You've got awfully nice friends," he added humbly, picking up a little jade el

ch, but I love it. I've managed to save something every year, and that with helping my three sisters now and then, and tiding poor Cousin Mike over b

nd smilingly announced

d, as she led the way, "is the t

ench prints, above which ran a shelf full

wanderings, or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasn't been stowed away. We always had our tea out of those blue cups

hrooms and truffles, and two small rare ducklings, and artichokes, and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley h

it myself, but I like to see it behave when it's

ne against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly abou

over to Paris often. There are few changes in the old Quarter.

r how she saved and scraped for him, and how he always lay abed till ten o'clo

tect when he will work. He's a big, handsome creature, and he h

er get back to Brittan

hough there is always a soldat, she has become a blanchisseuse de fin. She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there, and was so delighted to see me again. I gave her all my old clothes, even my old hats, th

"How jolly it was being young, Hilda! Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris? W

have our coffee in the oth

change the drift of their talk, but Ba

study with the coffee on a little table between them; "and the sky, over the brid

He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered

at woman who was crying so bitterly. I gave her a spray of lilac, I re

rom under her black shawl. What she wanted from us was neither our flowers nor our francs, but just our youth. I remember it touched me so. I w

f human life; it had the anguish of a voice of prophecy. Until she spoke, Bartley had not realized that he was in love. The strange woman, and her passionate sentence that rang out so sharply, had frightened them both. They went home sadly with the lilacs, back to the Rue Saint-Jacques, walking

why did you do that? I had quite forgotten-I was back there. It was ve

f us twenty now, you know. Have I told you about my new play? Mac

kind of a part is it? Shall yo

he stood by the piano, turning over a pile of mu

e feathers. He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home, and I

ng. When she finished, Alexander

Once,' Hilda. You use

er and grandmother did before me. Most actresses nowadays learn

d. "All the same

tlessly toward the window. "It's really too w

. "Aren't you afraid to let the wind low like tha

ere, just in front." He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulder-straps. "There, that will do. It looks like a bi

little behind her, and tried to steady himself as he s

ays more quickly and lightly, and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped. Suddenly he moved the clenched hand

thrust it at him without turning round. "Here,

hout touching her, and whispered in h

. This isn't fair, y

h one he threw down the window and with the other-st

ad, and drew his face down to hers. "Are you going t