An Original Belle

nd might be influenced by a truth or a thought of practical and direct application. All the homilies ever written, all the counsel of matrons and sages, could not h

plishments, her social position and natural gifts, acting on no higher plane, influenced by no worthier motives and no loftier ambition? Was the ig

herein lay the difference

? He has set his heart on what can never be. Could I have prevented him from doing this? One thing at least is certain,-I have not tried to prevent it, and I fear there have been many little nameless things which he would regard as encouragement. And he is only one. With others I have gone farther and they have fared worse. It is said that Mr. Folger, whom I refused last winter, is becoming dissipated. Mr. Arton shuns society and sneers at women. Oh, don't let me thi

aditions of her life. Her mother had been a belle and something of a coquette, and, having had her career, was in the main a good and sensible wife. She had given her husband little trouble if not much help. She had slight interest in that which made his life, and slight comprehension of it, but in affectionate indifference she let him go his way, and was content with her domestic affairs, her daughter,

that she is so little to papa, and that he virtually carries on his life-work alone. I don't see how I can continue my

s one from the chaos and bitterness of her thoug

ossible from her mistress. The repugnance was due as much to the innate delicacy and natural superiority of Marian's nature as to her conscience. Her clear, practical sense perceived that her course differed from the oth

she did not wish to see them. Their society now would be li

ather in their city home, where he was camping out, as he termed it. She took a train t

as he entered his home, which had the comfortl

come to town for a little qu

New York

many are coming and going. I am tired, and thought an evening o

ll be a change f

of satire in that rem

Mayn't

on't be long in this dull place, for we are scarce

nk I shall be tired

entertaining. You ap

is the way

ith admiration for girl

ts and interesting peculiarities. There is a great deal of life, you know, which a busy man has to accept in a general way, especially when charged with d

yself, papa, and you unconsciously make me far more so. Is a w

hat she pleases. You certainly have had a chance to find out what pleases most wom

pondently. "I thought perhaps

een his hands, looking earnest

e a conventional woman?"

her emphat

d land, especially at this stormy period. Perhaps you want a care

tand myself," she faltered. "In some respects you are as conventional as mamma, and are almost a Turk in your ide

look pale, and I long for a little fresh air myself. I have been

ave to work s

,' and my country is at war. They don't seem very near of kin, d

you more bill

re than

eve I'm

irl, who will feel better after dinner

ther unusual occupation of becoming acquainted with her father. He sat before her, with his face, generally stern and inscrutable, softened by a desire to be companionable and sympathetic. According to his

imation. When a knowledge of such individual traits was essential to his plans, he mastered them with singular keenness and quickness of comprehension. When such knowledge was unnecessary, or as soon as it ceased to be of service, he dismissed the extraneous personalities from his mind almost as completely as if they had had no existence. Few men were less embarrassed with acquaintances than he; yet he had an observant eye and a retentive memory. When he wanted a man he rarely failed to find the right one. In the selection and use of men he appeared to act like an intelligent and silent force, rather than as a man full of human interests and sympathies. He rarely spoke of himself, even in the most casual way. Most of those with whom he mingled knew merely that he was an agent of the government, and that he kept his own counsel. His wife was to him a type of the average American woman,-pretty, self-complacent, so nervous as to require kind, even treatment, content with feminalities, and sufficiently intelligent to talk well upon every-day affairs. In her society he smiled at her,

tle more than the ordinary small talk of the day, fluent and piquant, while the girl herself was as undisturbed by the vital questions of the hour and of life, upon which he dwelt, as if she had been a child. He knew that she received much attention, but it excited little thought on his part,

, and principles. Her very father was to her but a man in outline. She knew little of the thoughts that peopled his brain, of the motives and principles that controlled his existence, giving it individuality, and even less of the resulting action with which his busy life abounded. Although she had crossed the threshold of womanhood, she was still to him the self-pleasing child that he had provided for since infancy; and he was, in her view, the man to whom, according to the law of nature and the family, she was to look for the maintenance of her young life, with its almost entire separation in thoughts, pleasures, and interests. She loved him, of course. She had always loved him, from the time when she had stretched forth her baby hands to be taken and fondled for a few moments and then relinquished to others. Practically she had dwelt with others ever since. Now, as a result, she did n

drove in the park. When at last they returned and sat in the dimly-ligh