A Modern Chronicle, Volume 5

, on the memorable night of the dinner with Mrs. Holt and Trixton Brent; but-for sufficiently obvious reasons-refrained. It would be an exaggeration to say that Mrs. Grainger became an obs

opied her brougham; in Mr. Cuthbert and Trixton Brent; in Mrs. Kame; in Mrs. Holt, who proclaimed her a tower of strength in charities; and l

tute et fide, had been a Roman of the old school who would have preferred exile after the battle of Philippi; and who, could he have foreseen modern New York and modern finance, would have been more content to die when he did. He had lived in Washington Square. His daughter inherited his executive abil

gift of combining conventionality with personal distinction in her dress. Her hair was almost Titian red in colour, and her face (on the authority of Mr. Reginald Farwell) was at once modern and Italian Renaissance. Not the langui

she had signified her willingness (now that she had come to live in town) to join the Working Girls' Relief Society. Mrs. Holt, needless to say, was overjoyed: they were to have a meeting at her hous

young woman who worked in a bindery on the East side. Honora's heart was soft: her sympathies, as we know, easily aroused. And after the young woman had told with great simplicity an

ing younger women, to whom dress was evidently a secondary consideration; and there was a sprinkling of others, perfectly gowned, several of whom were gathered in an opposite corner. Honora's eyes, as the reading of the report progressed, were drawn by a continual and resistless attraction to this group; or rather to the face of one of the women in it, which seemed to stare out at her like the eat in the tree of an old-fashi

k to her. Never until now had she felt the full horror of its comedy. And then, as though to fill the cup of humiliation, came the

h had done during the year, and amidst enthusiastic hand-clapping the formal part of the meeting came to an end.

olt, who had hurried after her

found herself wi

been so interested. I never realized that such things occurred. An

olt, "you must meet some of the

r-shot of this conversation. And Honora, who knew she was there, could not help feeli

new recruit-one that

m I spoke t

owed upon Honora h

ve heard of Mrs. Spence

een he

, which seemed the quintessence of rudeness. But Mrs. Grainger continue

intending to since I've been in town, but I'm always so

on, and presently found herself walking rapidly up-town through swirling snow, somewhat dazed by the events of the aftern

nor

nded from a carriage and crossed the pavement, and in th

r school friend. The colour glowed in Honora's cheeks, but health alone could not account for the sparkl

ey sat down side by side on th

ther day. Jim never tells me anything. It appears that he's seen something of you. But it

ed Honora,

Erw

er E

"I've lost my heart to him, and I don't care who

e could command herself sufficiently to speak. Her voice m

d gout. Didn't he tell you about it? He sa

idn't mention being at

what was like him? "I made father give him up for a little while after lunch, and he talked about you the whole time. But he was most interesting at the table," continued

und with Mr. Wing

oy it hugely. Father's so used to bullying people that it's become second nature with him. I've seen him lay down the law to some of the b

iscussion about

d that it was justifiable for the great legal brains of the country to devise means by which these laws could be eluded. He didn't quite say that, but he meant it, and he honestly believes it. The manner in which Mr. Erwin refuted it was a revelation to me. I've been thinking about it since. You see, I'd never heard that side of the argument. Mr. Erwin said, in the nicest way pos

in recoils from the lip of an unsuspected crater at sight of the lazy, sulphurous fumes. All the years of her marriage, ever since she had first heard his name, the stature of James Wing had been inse

taken place before Ethel's eyes. The capitalist, overbearing, tyrannical, hearing a few, simple truths in his own house from Peter-her Peter. And she recalled her husband's account of his talk with J

ther people, to stockholders; and he must get things done. But oh, Honora, I'm so tired of money, m

the girl's tired eyes-a weariness somehow enhanced-in effect

Ethel, since Sutc

ll kinds of people-except the right kind. And if I were to tell you some of the things that have happened to me in five years you wouldn't believe them. Money has been at the bottom of it all,-it ruined my brother, and it has ruined me. And the

iend's hand in her

t school. I suppose I'm inclined to be oversuspicious. Heaven knows I've had enough to make me so. But I always thought that you were a little-ambitio

ra n

nging all the ti

e, Ethel Wing pursued h

dea of you than the one I had always had. I had to go out of town, but I made up my mind

sked Honora. "He is what y

of his early life

.......

than ever. From the river-bed can be seen, far, far above, a blue ribbon of sky. Once upon a time, not long ago, two heroes in the service of the government of the United States, whose names should be graven in the immortal rock and whose story read wherever the language is spoken, made the journey through this

begins to feel the pressure of the shelving sides. And if our heroine be somewhat rudely tossed from one boulder to another

Ethel Wing just related, Honora's husband entered her room

to wear that dre

ed, without turnin

ted a c

go to the Graingers'. And where are your jewel

he was fain to be content until they were in the carriage, when she added:

y?" he d

know I suppose it is impossible t

a, that you're too confoundedl

t moment they drew up at a carpe

d on a corner, with a high iron fence protecting the area around it. Within, it gave one an idea of space that the exterior strangely belied; and it was furnished, not in a French, but in what might be called a comfortably English, manner. It was filled, Honora saw, with han

he crimson in her cheeks, and the single glistening string of pearls about the slender column of her neck served as a contrast to the shadowy masses of her hair. Mr. Reginald Farwell, who was there, afterwards declared th

f one who had pulled aside the curtain and revealed this vision of beauty and innocence, crossed the room to welcome her. And Mrs. Grainger herself was not a little surprised; she was no

rainger, regarding her with an interest that was undisguised, and a little embarrassing.

nora, "but-I must intro

r when this ceremony was accomplished. "I'm awfu

ess his joy, because of the appearance of his wife at Hon

my cousin, Mr. Chiltern-he is to have t

within the limits of the Caucasian race. His short, kinky, black hair suggested great virility, an effect intensified by a strongly bridged nose, sinewy hands, and bushy eyebrows. But the intangible distinction was in the eyes that looked out from under these brows the glimpse she had

mplained Mr. Grainger, "of tu

in yellow, with a long train, who looked at her rather hard. It was Mrs. Freddy Maitl

ently, looking back over her sho

horse, I see." he replied, ignoring the q

ere were any, did no

ednesday. We want anoth

got something els

le hands," retort

ngry, although he gave no visible sign of this. It

been away?

," he answered, and he glanced curiously at the guests r

lorations she was in need of a guide. She could have found none more charming, none more impersonal, none more subtly aware of her wants (which had once been his) than Mr. Farwell. With his hair parted with geometrical precision from the back of his collar to his forehead, with his silky

ub, and Mrs. Dallam nor her house were not mentioned by either. Honora could not have been in New York Long. No, it was her first winter, and she felt like a stranger. Would Mr. Farwell tell

it soon straightens itself out, and one is surprised at how few people there

iara, and whose throat was covered with jewels. Honora did not imply that Mrs. G

le eccentric, but she can afford to be-the Godfreys for generations have done so much for the city. The man with the beard, next her, is John Laurens, the philanthropist. That pre

Honora, smiling. "I kn

d rather to heighten the confidence between them. Honora was looking rather critically at Howard. It was a fact t

de of him?" she asked. "By the

jewels are inherited, but she has accustomed herself by long practice to carry them, as well as other burdens. She has eight c

n on my right?" Honora asked. "I'

s it possible you haven

Chilt

entable ignoran

w," he replied. "He's always been a s

by the appropria

actly. I couldn't think. Te

ears, more or less. I believe Hugh Chiltern has sold 'em, or they've gone into a trust, or something, but the estate is still there, at Grenoble-one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. The General-this man's father-was a violent, dictatorial man. There is a story about his taking a battery at Gettysburg whi

ompted Honora,

s time across the Charles River breaking things. It was, probably, the energy the General got rid of at Gettysburg. What Hugh really needed was a war, and he had too much money. He has a curious literary streak, I'm told, and wrote a rather remarkable a

nced acros

knew the reason why she broke it-though it may have been pretty closely guess

in the circle on the borders of which she now found herself. Mrs. Grainger with her charities, Mrs. Littleton Pryor with her good works, Miss Godfrey with her virtue-all swallowed it as gracefully as possible. Noblesse oblige. Honora had read French and English memoirs, and

s, yet; that it was none of these, she knew. It was not unrelated to experience, but transcended it. There was an element of purpose in it, of determination, almost-she would have believed-of hope. That Mrs. Maitland nor any other woman was a part

in New York

onora, "since

on of his question. "I haven't quite got my bearings. I c

vilization?"

t I've come

a series of jerks; and yet both were aware of an irresistible forward traction. She h

I suppose, when you'll

en me a long while to learn it, but there's only

yes l

ys so much fo

ou do?" he as

nsider

It's taken me some time to learn it, too, you see, and I'm not a man. I once thought I should have liked to h

learly i

" he prom

ittle, to relie

arbarous cunning power now that I've seen it at close range. There's another kind that springs from a man himself, that speaks through his works and acts, that influences first t

her own eloquence. Something told her that she was no

think I'm preachi

aid impati

ent means, I think I should go into politics. And I should

ambitions. The idea of the banner with its inscription had come as an inspiration. He did

mly rooted in their own soil. This city seems to me like a luxurious, overgrown hothouse. Of course," she added hastily, "there are many people who belong here, and w

t you should say this to me. It is what I have come

's arm, and he led her back to the drawing-room. She was st

en you before