The Parisians, Book 9.

, instanced by that marvellous passage in the loftiest of Sir Walter Scott's works, in which all the anguish of Ravenswood on the night before he has to meet Lucy's brother in mortal combat is convey

mbly do I imitate, then, the great master of narrative in declining to put into words the conflict between love and reason that tortured the heart of Graham Vane when, dropping noise

thful ear to listen, his tread, too, might have been heard all that sleep

wing evening. On that evening Graham dined en famille with his cousins the Altons. After dinner, the Duke produced the design

gratifies me to attest the claim of our family to a daughter who continues to be famous for her goodness, and made the goodness so lovable that envy forgave it for being famous. It was a pan

hand-he could not speak, c

erences and family feuds between their parents, which the gentle meditation of Lady Janet had smoothed away. And never did union founded on mutual and ardent love more belie the assertions of the great Bichat (esteemed by Dr. Buckle the finest intellect which practical philo

ds Graham a sheet of paper, inscribed with the epitaph composed by his hand. "

It deserved the praise bestowed on it; for the Duke, though a

so active in doing good had diffused around it. It brought vividly before Graham that image of perfect spotless womanhood. And a voice within him asked, "Would that cenotaph be placed amid the monuments of an illustriou

Your pen is much more practised than mine. If I did not ask you to compose the epitaph, it was because I thought it would please you more in coming, as

me if my silence wronged my emotion; the truest elo

s resting fondly on her husband's shoulder. "Epitaphs are so difficult to write-especially epitaphs on women of

. Proof against every breath of scandal herself, Janet King never uttered and never encouraged one ill-natured word against another. But I am afraid, my

he House with you, if

ing-room, which, though others might call it a boudoir, she dignified by the name of her study. The Duke remained for some minutes thoughtfully leaning his arm on the mantelpiece. It was no unimportant debate in the Lords that night, and on a subject in which he took great interest, and the details of which he had thorough

y exactly what I would rather be swallowed up by an earthquake than stand up and s