Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118

rt to besiege it with the same ponderous benign calm with which he ate an egg or talked of death. There was a bronze image of

Mr. Van Ness. "This creature maddens me," she said. "

d up as a connoisseur in bronzes, adjusting his eye-g

ely what makes

time. She had grown thin, was eager, restless, uncertai

incere compassion to Jane's stupendous ignorance he would sit for hours stroking his moustache, his elbows on his knees, his feet on a rung of the chair, dribbling information as to the nice effects in the Water-Color Exhibition, or miraculous "finds" of Spode or Wedg

," he urged. "It is a duty you owe in yo

own class." He dropped his voice again: "The truth is, Rhodes, she has no ties like other girls. Her dog and two or three old wome

of the tw

" asked the jud

ow and whistling under his breath. "It was for this I sent for you," he added presently. "If I could on

indications in her hoopless straight skirts: the good little creatures zealously cut and trimmed a dress for her from the very last patterns. She put it on, and straightway went through bog and brake with Bruno for mushrooms, coming back with it in tatters. They chattered in their thin falsetto voices the last Culpepper gossip into her patient ear-the story of Rosey's balls at Old Point, and Netty's lovers, all of whom were "splendid matches until impohverished by the war." She listened to their chirping with amused eyes, tapping them, when they were through,

ented our patents then. Sometimes we could afford to go to the gallery at the theatre when the play was good. Father and the

"can have no better sponsor in society than Mrs. Wilde. She only can give the accolade to all aspirants. No amount of money will force an entrance at her doors. There must be blood-blood. 'Swendon?' she said when I spoke to her ab

f the best fashion have called, and she has not even le

t with a sudden imbecile despair,

eard Neckart's story. She bailed it out and cleaned it carefully ev

hat have I done that I must b

you as a child. But, as Waring justly observes, the society

sped them above her head. It seemed as if a thou

or musical, or concerned in some asylum-work-you could take your ow

don't know what

saying nothing for some time. Every other woman had some definite aim. The whole world was marching by, keepi

e?" her father was saying, m

know why,

ave, Jenny?" taki

le in the world. You and Bruno and-not man

opped inquiringly, but she did not answer. She was a strongly-built woman in mind and body, and just then she felt her strength. The blood rushed in a swift current through her veins. Why should she be hampered with these thousand mea

o us?" she asked abruptly. "It i

that he is going to give up the paper, and is settling up his business to go t

? I can nurse you both. Surely, that is as good work as returning

ove, with the captain, had been a sentimental fever ending in a cold ague: he had experienced light heats and chills of it many a tim

the world. He knows his condition, and in the little time left to him he attends to his business and important po

I don't understa

service as you offer except to

would und

ciety,

her hands on his shoulder. "If this thing comes upon him-he has l

ed very properly. It was not his fault nor yours-this flirtation-preference-or whatever you may choose to call it. But Bruce knows the worl

ake an exce

my darling. It frightens me. I'm not strong. It is not death that

kart planned

e knows it is the way of the world that a woman should marry, and he will be much happier to know that

While he sat in the boat there that night, with the moonlight white about them, while he told her that he loved her, he had been planning this good match for her! There was no such thing as love, then, in the world? Or truth? But th

until the last breath of reason was gone, there had been a thrill of delight in the intolerable pain. But planning,

eckart had gone out of her life. She accepted the fact at once, without argument. What the loss imported t

Philanthropy-anything you choose-rather than see you so shaken." She hung on his arm as they went up the path, talking incessantly, and l

an-"deputations from church and charitable organizations. 'Pon my soul,

very different

looked like one of the apostles in modern dress; and all the ladies near me said that his face beamed with heavenly light. It would have made any

dy could find fault wi

th his

th his

iends, eh?" holding his

r. Van Ness and I co

y?

and looking at Bruno, who was figh

se, he thought, to try to account for the pre

n an anxious flutter: "Mrs. Wilde i

er dress never rustled or brought itself into any notice; her language never fell uneasily out of its qu

ce so much more quickly out of doors. I must begin ours by asking for you

would have liked to say outright how welcome the mothe

the arbor, and at once were at ease and at home with each other. Bruno came up,

said nodding. "You must t

es no m

end with me, and now that I have seen you I mean to bespeak your good-

she

had much court paid to her. But her nature makes her always a very lonely woman." She spoke hastily as the trailing of heavy skirts approached on the grass. "Here she is, poor thing! Be good to her," she whispered before presenting her in form. Madame Trebizoff w

in a moment she remembered that she had once taken the bread