The Wheel of Life

as a strictly secluded life. She was a large, florid, motherly old lady who still wore mourning for a husband who had been killed while fox hunting

of the plump, soft balls of brilliant yarn and the long ivory knitting needles which clicked briskly while she worked with a pleasant, familiar sound. To this day the

ge himself-had ever surprised so much as a passing shadow upon her face. The young man's untiring pursuit of managers and of players had left her continually alone, but she busied herself cheerfully about her housekeepi

akfast; "did you meet any one who is likely to be of use? I remember Beverly P

massive, hand-beaten, old silver service, the solitary rose he had purchased in the street standing between them in a slender Bohemian vase, brought from the rare old china i

ntly, "but as you never read poetry yo

ove his coffee cup Mrs. Trent smile

son? A lady-I

es, st

verse you say!

amusement. "Improper

e correct allowance of cream, "but somehow women always seem to get immodest when they take

entle mockery, "have you been

ather used to be very fond of quoting something from 'Sappho,'" she returned thoughtfully, "or was it from Mr. Po

umouredly as he rece

he rejoined, "you'd be at liberty to recite her

e very

she's wonderful-

And I can't help being prejudiced against women writers, your father always was. It's as if they really pretended to know

elped himself to the cakes brou

n you," he laughed, "so you won't be apt

lady, with amiability, "but I do hate to have you

eet Miss Wilde at home i

ighbour's roofs, but I can bear anything so long as we are not forced to associate with common people. Of course I don't expect to find the manners o

them to be particularly

n tones rippled on over her quaint ideas, which shone to her s

show a little ordinary politeness. I met the doctor coming out of the apartment downstairs, so in common decency I went immediately to enquire who was sick, and carried along a glass o

nder glance across

ed, "but I wouldn't waste

y, "and that's the thing I miss

to the hospitals-there ar

" she added, with a despair that was almost abject, "I was counting up this morning the people I might speak to if I met them in the street, and I got them in easily on the fingers of one

h hug of sympathy. "You're a regular angel of a mother," he said and added pla

across his forehead. "That's only because I made an

elevat

any day go up and down the seven flights-but she met me as I started to walk and

rent suspiciousl

and she came from Clarke Cou

Trent, and his voice betr

was once a famous beauty. Do you remember my speaking of her-Miss Bet

ried. On her last visit to me, when she was a very old lady, I asked her why-and her answer was: 'Pure f

in the young lady of the

and brown hair, which she wears parted exactly as her aunt did fifty years ag

o? Did she

your manuscripts, and she spoke-oh, so seriously-of h

r a moment, "I hope at any rat

blackened chimney-pots. "At least I can talk to her about her aunt," she returned. Then her gaze grew more intense, and she almos

ame back to give her a parting kiss. "Find

evoted to a single absorbing purpose. He noticed, too, that the little tan coat she wore was rather shabby, and that there was a small round hole in one of the fingers of her glove. When she spoke, as she did when leaving the key with the man in charge of the elevator, her voi

swelling thankfulness for the mere physical fact of birth. He was twenty-five, he believed passionately in his own powers, and he was, he told himself with emphasis, in love for the first and only time. In the confused tangle of his fancy he saw Laura like some great white flower, growing out of reach, yet not entirely beyond endeavour, and the ladder that went up to her was made by his own immediate successes. Then the footlights before his play swam in his picture and he heard already the applause of crowded houses and felt in his head the intoxication of his triumph. Act by act, scene by scene, he rehearsed in fancy his great drama, seeing the players t

less as a coming dramatist than as a present fool, and he contrasted his own awkwardness with Adams' whimsical ease of manner. Did a woman ever forget how a man appeared when she first met him? Would any amount of fame to-morrow obliterate from Laura's memory his embarrassment of yesterday? He had heard that the surface impression was what counted in the feminine mind, and this made him think enviously, for a minute, of

istina Coles was with her. The girl still wore her hat, but she had removed her jacket, and it lay with a little b

ten a play," she began, a little shyly

orted gaily, "but I hear that yo

wered earnestly. "It is ever

. As it was he merely glanced appealingly at his mother, who intervened with a gesture of her knitting needle. "She wri

, reminding him vaguely of the look with whic

le hour I have to live." Then her manner changed suddenly, and she impressed him as me

ing, like a sharp blow between the eyes, and he met the

-yes," he ans

e had thought mere prettiness in her warm to positive b

r flashed out to meet her own. "Oh, y