Here are Ladies

as upon her. In a little while she would be in the toils, and she hated and feared physical pa

fine men," tall, generously-proportioned, with the free and easy joviality which is so common in Ireland. He was born a boy and he would never grow out of that state. The colour of his hair or the wrinkles on his cheek would not have anything to do wit

that he could in nowise get away from the past: the future he did not care a rap about. Nobody does: there is, indeed, no such thing as the future, there is only the possibility of it, but the past and the present are facts not to be gotten away from. What we have done and what

he very Flower of Womanhood, and the Heart of the World, and, maybe, he had.-There are many Flowers of Womanho

rom him. When they recovered her beauty was gone. The extraordinary bloom which had made her cheek a s

ved and what she was like at home. Indeed, he knew less of his wife than his servants did, and by little and little she had seen how the matter stood. She had plucked the heart from his mystery and read him to the bones, while remaining herself intact. But she held h

m, a heavy knowledge. How many slights, shrinkings, coldnesses she had dis

r of infection had passed-the stare, the flush, the angry disgust. Her eyes were cameras. S

th pain, and he was mumbling that it would be all right again in a little t

e. . . . She might die: so many people die in labour, and she was not strong. With a new clairvoyant gaze she saw Death standing by the bed, hooded, cloaked and sombre; his eyes were fixed on her and they were peaceful and kindly eyes. Had there been nothing else to ca

? What was she like? What would be her attitude towards a motherless child? towards her little one? She would be kindly at first,

er, cared for and loved, all their childish troubles the centre of maternal interest and debate, while her boy slunk

ing at her husband, and she believed

curtains, by the light of a lamp that fell on toiling, anxious peo