The Third Miss Symons

before the days of women's colleges; they were established, but frequented only by pioneers, in whose ranks no Henrie

er of sketches and two part-songs had been phenomenally short (invaluable as it has proved itself for man

Promessi Sposi," fifteen years ago. Still, the lectures sounded pleasant to her; they were a novelty,

gings both looked dismal after the brightness of abroad, but they were excited at the prospect

f not absolutely spellbound, spellbound compared to Henrietta-to an elderly gentleman discoursing on Aristotle. For most of them Aristotle, and the satisfaction of using their minds were sufficient, but a litt

back with a jump to find that the lecture had moved on several pages. She listened with fair success for another five minutes, then her mind wandered to her landlady at the lodgings; was she perfectly honest, did her expression inspire confidence? There was that pearl brooch Louie had given her; it was Louie's birthday to-morrow, she must write, and hear also how Tom was getting

hat they had been advised to read, and Miss Gurney bought reams of paper. She was hard at work the whole evening. Henrietta had one of the books open before her, but she found the sa

e, now it is quite clear. Look, Miss Symons. Oh, I shall learn Greek, I c

The evening before, she and Miss Gurney had had an interesting conversation on the weekly averages of house-books. Then she felt comfortable and on the solid earth. Why then, was she attending lectures on Aristotle? Well, becau

fer from Minna and Louie's sympathy that the parish work was a failure. She read three chapters and fell asleep in the middle of the fourth, and went to bed half an hour earlier than usual. Next morning she could not remember a word of what she had read, but for two dates and one sentence, which remained in her head. "Even now, in the latter half of the nineteenth century, in spi

hing of St. Paul's epistles. Had any of the other Greek philosophers been more humane in their views on slavery? Then another voice struck in, and compared the ancient idea of slavery with the slave code of the United States. The voice was rather strident, but not unpleasant. It had a great deal to say, and for some minutes seemed likely to take the lecture altogether from

e to Henrietta. Mrs. Marston was dead, and Miss Arundel had ret

e Professor Amery so much." And she prosed on about the lecture and the books she was reading, and did not much care to talk over the old times, which we

library. Henrietta could imagine nothing in the world for which she would get up at six o'clock. Then her thoughts went like lightning to the morning when the telegram had come telling of little Madeline's death. The wound she had thought healed burst out afresh

ppy years. Her room was filled with tributes from old pupils, they were continually writing to her and coming to

ta after twenty years of rest, had not merely lost all the qualities she had had as a child, but had gained none from age and experience to take their place. The realization of this

turn out." Miss Arundel had long forgotten them, and now looked on Henrietta simply as a co-member of the lectures, but sh

ng years of mental self-indulgence, so might a person more ready to take advice. But at forty, as I have said, she felt she was beyond advice, so she would not notice Miss Gurney's hints. She chose t

totle, who wrote a number of celebrated books, among which two called the 'Ethics' and 'Republic' are very celebrated. He also wrote many other works, but none are so celebrated as the two a

kes a margin for the corrections, he said so himself. Oh, and you don't mind my saying so, but Aristotle did not write a republic. Shall I just scratch that out

to write a paper," said Henrietta. "I jus

of doing the paper, you must read this article, it'

dn't care to re

it here, and then y

thank

so unintelligible, that she actually cried over it, and when she heard Miss Gurney's step, s

with your paper, dear?

ery, with the extreme courtesy of elderly gentlemen, wrote: "I think there are one or two points which I have not made quite clear. Wo

rm for a change, but liked it no better than Aristotle. Intellectual life was dead and buried in her long ago. What would have really sui

racts of learned books had lately become much less voluminous, had not jumped at a suggestion to take a delicate niece abroad, and propose