The Reef

e which enclosed in its long expanse of brick andyellowish stone the

s, extended to a white-barred gate beyond which an equally level avenue of grass,cut through

fore a glazed door under sculptured trophies, now down thedrive toward the grassy cutting through the wood. Her airwas less of expectancy than of contemplation: she seemed n

scene was not new toher. There was no e

owhich, for some intimate inward reason, details long s

meet her step-son,who was likely to be returning at that hour from anafternoon's shooting in one of the more distant plantations,and she carried in her han

reater partof every year, since the far-off day of her marriage; theday when, ostensibly driving throug

youthful fancy a throng ofromantic associations, poetic, pictorial and emotional; andthe serene face of the old house seated in its park amongth

not again a castle ofdreams, evoker of fair images and romantic legend, but theshell of a life slowly adjusted to its dwelling: the placeone came back to, the place where one had one's duties,one's habits and one's books, the place one would naturallylive in til

een trying to see the house through the eyes of an oldfriend who, the next morning, would be driving up to it fo

r yewsand across the sunny gravel; the sweep of rooks above thelustrous greyish-purple slates of the roof, and

blisswhich the fearful human heart scarce dares acknowledge. Shewas not used to strong or full emotions; but she

thismoment he was the one person to whom she could have spokenwithout fear of disturbing her inner stillness. She wasglad, for all sorts of reasons, that Madame de Chantelle andEffie were still at Ouchy with the governe

minating one of the wings. Beyond a gate in thecourt-yard wall the flower-garden drew its dark-greensquares and raised its statues against the yellowingbackground of the park.

themere feeling of the paper between her fingers. The thrill itsent through her gave a keener edge to every sens

It had been like the stage gauze whichgives an illusive air of reality to the pa

s respect. In the well-regulated well-fedSummers world the unusual was regar

omposed entirely of people like her parents and herparents' friends she did not see how the magnificent thingsone read about could ever have happened. She was sure thatif anything of the kind had occurred in her immediate circle

little sweptand fenced and tended surface as its actual substance. Itwas in the visioned region of action and emotion that herfullest hours were spent; but it h

retwhich escaped her. There seemed to be a kind of freemasonrybetween them; they were wider awake than she, more alert,and surer of their wants if not of their opinions. Shes

exclusion, ofbeing somehow laughingly but firmly debarred from a share oftheir privileges, threw her back

three of the girls she had envied fortheir superior acquaintance with the arts of life hadcontracted, in the course of time, what were variouslydescribed as "romantic" or "foolish" marriages; one evenmade a runaway match, and languished for a while

est Fifty-fifth Streetand life; once or twice she had even fancied that the cluewas in her hand.

h her. He had a tall fair easy presence and a mindin which the lights of irony played pleasantly through theshades of feeling. She liked to hear his voice almost asmuch as to listen to what he was saying, and to listen towhat he wa

and got up in the dead of night to try new ways of doing herhair. But as soon as he reappeared her head straighteneditself on her slim neck and she sped her little shafts ofir

a season would know better than she how to attract aman and hold h

en West Fifty-fifth Street to its base. Theyoung lady had come back from her adventure no less sillythan when she went; and across the

lly toaccept. Suddenly, at the sight, a rage of possessorshipawoke in her. She must save Darrow, assert her right to himat any price. Pride and reticence went down in a hurricaneof jealousy. She heard him laugh, and there was someth

And that girl of all others! Whatillusions could he have about a girl who, hardly a year ago,had made a fool of herself over the fat young ma

o her lips. He came the next day, and they were alone, andall she found was: "I didn't know that you and Kitty Maynewere such friends."He answered with indifference that he didn't know it either,and in the reaction of relief she de

were leagues and l

y, with high head and straight lips, while theirresistible word f

eared. She met himfirst in Italy, where she was travelling with her parents;and the following w

ried past. He presented Miss Summerswith a prettily-bound anthology of the old French poets and,when she showed a discriminating pleasure in the gift,observed with his grave smile: "I didn't suppose I shouldfind any one here who would feel abo

d beauty, and esteemingthem the vital elements of life, made her feel for the firsttime that she was understood. Here was some one whose scaleof values was the same as hers, and who thought her opinionworth he

fidential, her suitor surprised and delighted her by

did not mind: "Of course I shall say things nowand then that will horrify your dear delightful parents--Ishall shock them awfull

eliterature in their library, and at their guileless

ittyMayne who, after a rapid passage with George Darrow

cepts the situation--" Mr. Leath explained to Anna, who took his view the moreemphatically in orde

uttonhole who figures in the higher melodrama. Every word,every allusion, every note of his agreeably-modulated voice,gave Anna a glimpse of a society at once freer and finer

ly find the largest scope for self-expression. Study, travel, the contact of the world, thecomradeship of a polished and enlightened mind, wouldcombine to enrich her days and form her character; and

re conscientiously concernedthan Givre with the momentous question of "what people did";it was only the type of deed investigated that wasdifferent. Mr. Leath collected his social instances withthe same seriousness and patience as his snuff-boxes. Heexacted a rigid conformity to his rules of non-conformityand his scepticism had the absolute accent of a dogma. Heeven c

elle,however strongly they would have disagreed as to theauthorized source of Christian dogma, would have foundthemselves completely in accord on all the momentousminu

he Sphinxinstead of trying to find an answer to it, s

preserve a social tradition of which Ishould be sorry to lose the least perfume. Of course Idon't expect you, just at first, to feel the difference, tosee the nuance. In the case of little Madame deVireville, for instance: you point out that she's stillunder her husband's roof. Very true; and if she were merelya Paris acquaintance--especially if you had met her, as onestill might, in the RIGHT KIND of house in Paris--Ishould be the last to object to your visiting her. But inthe country it's different. Even the best provincialsociety is what you would call narrow: I don't deny it; andif some of our friends met M

Mr. Leath,was like a walk through a carefully classified museum,where, in moments of doubt, one had only to look at thenumber and refer to one's catalogue; to

g joys and pangs for which she feltherself made. She did not adopt her husband's views, butinsensibly she began to live his life. She tried to throw acompensating ardour into the secret excursio

Atlast she felt herself in contact with the actual busi

was all that his ownideal of a husband required. He was attentive, and evensuitably moved: but as he sat by her bedside, andthoughtfully proffered to her t

so slowly as theypassed seemed now to have plunged down head-long steeps oftime; and as she sat in the autumn sun, with Darrow's letterin her hand, the