Paths of Judgement

tched the stout pony's indolent advance with severity,

the pine-trees, casting blue-black shadows across the dusty road, and when the hill-top wa

beauty. The view from the hill-top was a grievance to her. They had only bucolic meadows, and trees of an orderly dulness, that didn't even make Constable effects, to look at, belo

se a sudden rise of pleasant summer woods saved it from bleakness in its lonely eminence. Indeed the house, though alone, was not lonely. It had an effect of standing with cont

with its pillared door-way and balanced proportions, for its diminutiveness. It made one think of a tiny Greek temple incongruously placed, and to Mrs. Merrick it symbolized an attitude that had always bewildered and irritated her. The garden, too, irritated her and made her envious. Even at this late summer s

Canterbury-bells, frail bubbles, purple and white, making in the shade a soft radiance, as though they held light within them. Beds of white pans

r smooth but loosened hair, a flapping white hat. She gave one an impression of at once flower-like freshness and most human untidiness. The black ribbon at her neck was half untied, her hat was battered;

ly tonged fringe and a netted miracle of twists and convolutions seemed appendages of the sailor hat-tilted forward and fastened to her head by a broad elastic band, a spotted veil and two accurate pins. She

sked, glancing down at her

ather and her own h

unt looked more funnily than ever like a collection of parcels strapped together for postal delivery. She was

, I know, be hard to manage with one bo

unless I

the road-not that any o

," Felicia

," said Mrs. Merrick, allowing the antagonistic moment to pass,

of her. I met her in London this Spring; we took a great fancy to each other. She is a wonderful woman-really wonderful. Such intellect, such soul, such world polish, and with it such saintliness. Everybody feels that about her; it helps one to know that there are such people

ce to see her." She dimly remembered a narrow face, a mist of hair, a long, yearni

a cousin of Lady Angela-the comet of the season, my dear;-most wonderful speech in the House-you probably heard of it; Imperialism-national prestige;-and a friend of his, Mr. Wynne, a most capt

ed at a flake of loosened stone with only a

, I feel sure, will be eager to meet him. How is your fat

He is

. Jones; he had never heard of it. I gave it to him; he looked through

f another flake,

her even in the midst of apparent triumphs-"So it will be nice for him to talk thin

is pockets, breathing in the sunlit air as though the afternoon's balmy radiance,

in feature, the nose finely aquiline, the lips full, slightly pursed, as if in a judicial weighing of his own impressions; his cheeks were rosy and a trifle pendulous. Loosel

assed over her face, and wandered contemplatively away to the landscape behind it, a glanc

id, again flicking her whip, and smiling with a touch

atter of environment, and without my good little whetstone here I don't fancy that the combined efforts of our not highly intelligent country people could save me from it-when I go among them. A mental fog, a stagnant dulness, you know, affect one in

he did not emphasize the effectiveness of the caress by returning it, or even by looking up, though her sl

ave the gift of idealization, Austin-it makes life far more comfortable. Will you

ne that he spoke, naming a French painter of whom Mrs. Merrick had never heard. "He could do it; it's like one of his smiling bits." His eye still dwelt upon it as he said, "I am rather busy just now, Kate. I have a great dea

ing one. Indeed, her odd sceptical, scoffing brother-in-law, his solitude, his disdain, and his pagan-looking house as a background, was a figure she could not afford to miss from her parties-parties often so painfully scraped together-painfully commonplace when scraped. Thi

particularly wants to meet you. He found your book so suggestive-" Mrs. Merrick, in pinching

Mr. Merrick repeat

r man, y

iminating gravity. "That little book of his on C

Comte; it was an added discomfiture. "You

number open? Felicia shall go to you to-morrow, and I will join you as soon as may be." His fa

up her spade and resumed her digging. He

ed digging?" he mused. "The day, the flowe

he had nothing bigger on hand to do," sai

ent, unroused Britomart. But I don't see you in armou

wonder. I suppose we must go to her? Aren't you so

as ours. We must think of her and of your uncle. And then"-Mr. Merrick paused as

only German idealism as an

Felicia; I really wonder that Kate managed to get people as interesting to come to her. Young Daun

he?-a L

ifference to the world's loud drums such ignorance betokened. "Daunt, like all ambitious young m

ambitious, d

ly, taking off his hat and rubbing his thick but delicate hand through his hair. "Devotio

r and determined on worldly success, and bound to succeed, is clever. It's a cloddish cleverness, after all. This Wynne, now, is of an appealingly contrasted type. I've read a li

licia observed, "Scrambling m

le to herself as she worked; it was, for the youth of the face, a mature smile; a smile that recognized and accepted

for the miscalculation of past energy, she leaned on the useless sword and watched the triviality of life go by. How find deep meanings in such muddy shallows? Of what avail was the striving urgency of growth? Where were great objects for armed faiths? She st