A Modern Chronicle -- Volume 05

uicksands. Neither, in this

e a time, after the excitement of furnishing the new house was over, when our heroine, as it were,

duced. She even felt, in those days, slightly akin to the Lady of the Victoria (perfectly respectable), whom all of us fortunate enough occasion

y, and she has one of the most desirable houses in New York. What more could be wished for? To jump at conclusions in t

ed somewhat blindly towards the Ideal, whether she might not somewhere have taken the wrong turn. The farther she travelled, the more she seemed to penetrate into a land of unrealities. The exquisite objects by which she was surrounded, and whi

arved stone mantel. The big, gilded chairs with the silken seats might appropriately have graced the table of the Hotel de Rambouillet. Would not the warriors and the wits, the patient ladies of high deg

d glanced through it, absently, until her eye fell by chance upon a name on the editorial page. Something like an elect

ly, and reminiscent of the great names of the profession in the past. Mr. Erwin is not dramatic. He appears to carry all before him by the sheer force of intellect, and by a kind of Linco

watching the twisted remnants fade from flame colour to rose, and finally blacken. Then she went slowly up the stairs and put on her ha

o town; and the light, like a speeding guest, was d

said the butler. "He said he was an old friend, and

till with p

is name?"

in," sai

she found herself that day, the supernatural itself

the butler was saying,

not changed! She wondered why she had expected him to change. Even the glow of his newly acquired fame was not discernible behind his well-remembered head. He

e said, in

. But it was the old glow, not the new-the l

!" she exclaimed, a

ncid

ut and telling everybody you were an old friend of mine." Still holding his fingers, she pushed him away from her at arm's len

eleased his hands

ge to me, Honora,

you, Peter!"

morous rays seemed to illuminate chambers within her which she wou

her muff and boa on a chair. "Sit there, where I can look at you, a

air which she designated, and then at her; and she smiled

," she declared,

ave harmonized with the flowing robes of the renowned French Cardinal himself. Honora wondered why. He impressed her to-day as force-tremendous force in repose, and ye

ang f

e why you came to N

from Washington, by a

ted. "You don't mean by

Wing," sa

as because Howard is -associated with him. Mr. Wing

r, and he looked at the tips of his fingers, which met. Honora thought it

entary confusion, and added hastily, "I beg your

ive in New York he answered, still

on second thoughts, she would think it so. "I suppose he wants yo

not c

y? Isn't it a g

when she recalled the conversation afterwards, that she had he

why any one might prefer to live in any

ef that surprised her, and a desire to get away from the subject. "Dear

aid Peter-and the

ou come to lu

ork-in this part of it, at least-with less than three weeks' n

ll that. Of course you'll co

is head re

ix, from Forty-Second

ong for you. It's strange, but I still miss you terribly-after five years. It seems longer than

d as far as a water

said. "I am glad I have had a glimpse of you surro

, and then at him. He seemed the only

there where Providence had placed him, and bringing the world to him. Whereas she, wh

ver soup tureen catching the sun, the flowered china with the gilt edges, and even a glimpse of lace paper when the closet doo

I know that you do not care for New York," she added

nd provincial and-and Western," he confessed with a twinkle-for he had the characteristic national trait of shadi

laug

mind returned

and he used the word that had possessed her all day. "

quickly. He was looki

e Metropolitan Museu

Museum?" she repea

a suspicious character. There is a picture there, by Coffin, called 'The Rain,' I believe. I am very fond of it. And looking at it on such a winter's day a

h shame at the thought that she had never been in the

ought four-although I haven't built my gallery. When you come to

him Honora remained where she was, staring into the fire, and

poke in th

ainger,

city had been searched, it is doubtful whether a more striking contrast to the man who had just left could have been found than Cecil Grainger in the braided, grey cutaway that clun

comin' 'round on such

dn't resist the opportu

ld me wher

surprise had given place to a very natural resentment,

and hadn't found you in. Uncommonly well fixed, I should say," he added, glancing around the room with

. Rindge," said Honora.

idly, like a man suddenly brou

olution came a few moments later. "It's ripping!" h

d momentarily forg

" she asked. "Oh, d

mping. It was the chair

the seat as though h

ecause it isn't comfortabl

ousands of instantaneous photographs for his benefit. She was by turns annoyed, amused, and distrait: Peter was leaving his hotel; now he was taking the train. Was he thinking of her? He had said he was glad she was happy! She caught herself up with a start after one of these silences to realize that Mr. Grainger was making unwonted and indeed pathetic exertions

he was winking now with bewildering rapidity. "We-we had such a

he agreed. "And it has been

s a strange and somewhat awful experience to see Mr. Cecil Grainger discountenanced.

istlessly. Cross currents of the strange events of the day flowed through her m

tained his new position of dignity? She could have sworn that he had visibly swollen on the evening when he had announced to her his promotion, and he seemed to have remained swollen. Not bloated, of course: he was fatter, and-if possible pinker. But there was a growing suggestion in him of humming-and-hawing greatnes

ied. "He even looks at the soup as t

s she sat now at the piano watching him, flew back unexpectedly to the summer at Silverdale when she had met him, and she tried to i

ing over there,

g," she

reat a man when he comes

aid with unusual meekness. "Who do

't go down town. He offered Erwin a hundred thousand a year to come to N

ieve you,

anything abo

. Wing asked him to come to

too many for me. He can't be making