The Fallen Leaves

as the first t

rson of any sensibility her position, among such relatives as you describe, must have been

ster and her sister’s husband. They proposed to keep her with them to teach their children. No! the new life offered to her was too like the old life — she was broken in body and mind; she had no courage to face it. We have a resident agent in New York; and he arranged for her journey to T

a young man with such natural gifts of fascination as C.A.G. Don’t you be

confusion, made matters worse. She coloured up, and snatched her hand out of mine, and ran back to the house by herself. The girls, enjoying their own foolish joke, congratulated me on my prospects. I must have been out of sorts in some way — upset, perhaps, by what I had heard in the boat. Anyhow, I lost my temper, and I made matters worse, next. I said some angry words, and left them. The same evening I found a letter in my room. ‘For your sake, I must not be seen alone with you again. It is hard to lose the comfort of your sympathy, but I must submit. Think of me as kindly

Mr. Hethc

ss of language. “When there’s a rash thing to be done by a man and a woman together, sir, phi

to me openly. ‘You have my heart’s dearest wishes for your happiness; think of me sometimes, Amelius, when you open your purse.’ If you had been in my place, could you

first time into a broad grin. “There are further part

spaper!” Amel

ritish oath as an unwilling compliment paid by the old country to the A

e!” Ameliu

he press,” Rufus persisted.

t I did,” said

his most magnificent manner. “In England, Mr. Dingwell, a gentlem

r, we do not regard kissing, in or out of a wood, in the light

as becoming too ridiculous to be endured by th

her eyes; I should like to know what else was to be done but to kiss her. Ah, yes, smooth out your newspaper report, and have another look at it! She did rest her head on my shoulder, poor soul, and she did say, ‘Oh, Am

r, I meant no harm,” he said. “The right grit is in you, and no mistake — a

approval of this proceeding.

. And the next day there was another event to occupy our attention — the arrival of the lawyer’s letter from London, with the announcement of my inheritance on coming of age. It was settled, as you know, that I was to go out into the world, and to judge for myself; but the date of my departure was not fixed. Two days later, the storm that had been gathering for weeks past burst on us — we were cited to appear before the council to answer for an infraction of the Rules. Everything that I have confessed to you, and some things besides that I have kept to myself, lay formally inscribed on a sheet of paper placed on the council table — and pinned to the sheet of paper was Mellicent’s letter to me, found in my room. I took the whole blame on myself, and insisted on being confronted with the unknown person who had informed against us. The council met this by a question:—‘Is the information, in any particular, false?’ Neither of us could deny that it was, in every particular, true. Hearing this, the council decided that there was no need, on our own showing, to confront us with the informer. From that day to this, I have never known who the spy was. Neither Mellicent nor I had an enemy in the Community. The gir

concerned, I suppose

s concerned also,

ake it, sir?”

re all more or less distressed as they bade her farewell. Most of the women were in tears as they kissed her. They said the same kind words to her over and over again. ‘We are heartily sorry for you, dear; we shall all be glad to welcome you back.’ They sang our customary hymn at parting — and broke down before they got to the end. It was she who consoled them! Not once, through all that melancholy ceremony, did she lose her strange composure, her rapt mysterious look. I was the last to say farewell; and I own I couldn’t trust myself to speak. She held my hand in hers. For a moment, her face lighted up softly wit