“‘The chamber, or, rather, temporary prison, of Dora Vernon was nigh the cross-bow room, and had a window which looked out on the terraced garden and the extensive chase toward the hill of Haddon. All that side of the hall lay in deep shadow, and the moon, sunk to the very summit of the western heath, threw a level and a farewell beam over river and tower. The young lady of Haddon seated herself in the recessed window, and lent her ear to every sound, and her eye to every shadow that flitted over the garden and chase. Her attendant maiden——shrewd, demure, and suspicious, of the ripe age of thirty, yet of a merry pleasant look, which had its admirers——sat watching every motion with the eye of an owl.


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"But the danger to the specimen—" Hatcher protested automatically.

No sooner had he left than the Colonel spoke to his guests.

"You're not leaving me, my dear man, I'm sending you away for your own good and that of the practice," Somers returned.

Where the reeds and rushes are long and rank,

"Hello! Johnny Burns," a group of schoolboys would call as we went by. Once we passed by a group of some fifteen or twenty workingwomen sitting in one of the refreshment booths, drinking their afternoon tea and, apparently, holding a neighbourhood meeting of some kind or other. As they recognized the man who, as member of the London County Council, had been responsible for most of the improvements that had been made in the homes and surroundings in which they lived, they stood up and waved their handkerchiefs, and even attempted a faint and feminine "hurrah for Johnny Burns," the member from Battersea.

I wish to compliment Mr. Brownlow on his able article on “Monetary Relief,” writes Mr. Denison, of Fargo, N. D. “The plan is a perfect panacea if we could get a guarantee that bank presidents would keep their fingers out of speculation.” Mr. Brownlow’s plan seems to meet the approval of all thinking men. By limiting the amount which each bank may be permitted to use, restricting the large banks to half a million, and permitting all the small ones to issue to the extent of their capital stock, Mr. Brownlow’s plan most effectually keeps it out of the hands of speculators. We believe when Mr. Brownlow’s plan is thoroughly known it will be the one adopted.

However, we saw no robbers, great or small, perhaps because we were so well prepared, though we went through a country full of woods and wild places, well fitted for this class of gentry. We continued our journey without further matter worth mention until, as we drove out of a little village called Baccano, Luigi jumped up in great excitement, and, crying to the postilion to stop, fairly shouted in his joy, "Ecco Roma!" And far away in the distance, over the rising mists of the morning, we saw the cross of St. Peter twinkling like a star of gold.


"Go ahead." The Aga Kaga kicked a couple of cushions onto the floor, eased a bottle from under the couch and reached for glasses.

1.And Hubert, on his side, made but one further reference to his love affair. No doubt he was afraid that he had already been rather indiscreet, for just before they reached the house he said,—

2."Oh, I don't know about that," said Simon Great.


It was with difficulty that Frances herself kept her seat or her self-command at all. She had been drawing, making one of those innumerable sketches which could be made from the loggia: now of a peak among the mountains; now of the edge of foam on the blue, blue margin of the sea; now of an olive, now of a palm. Frances had a consistent conscientious way of besieging Nature, forcing her day by day to render up the secret of another tint, another shadow. It was thus she had come{v1-211} to the insight which had made her father acknowledge that she was “growing up.” But to-day her hand had no cunning. Her pulses beat so tumultuously that her pencil shared the agitation, and fluttered too. She kept still as long as she could, and spoiled a piece of paper, which to Frances, with very little money to lose, was something to be thought of. And when she had accomplished this, and added to her excitement the disagreeable and confusing effect of failure in what she was doing, Frances got up abruptly and took refuge in the household concerns, in directions about the dinner, and consultations with Mariuccia, who was beginning to be a little jealous of the signorina’s absorption in her new companion. “If the young lady is indeed your sister, it is natural she should have a great deal of your attention; but not even for that does one desert one’s old friends,” Mariuccia said, with a little offended dignity.



"Mean that you may be turned out of the place at an hour's notice," Joe Kenyon interrupted him. "If you get on the old man's wrong side he'll have no scruples. That's what happened with my brother James, Eleanor's father, you know. He wanted to marry a girl, such a charming girl she was too—Eleanor takes after her—and somehow or other he put the old man's back up. Poor old Jim, he had an awful time—married Eleanor—Eleanor's mother, you understand—out of hand, and they practically starved. He used to write, but we couldn't help him, of course not to count; and the old man wouldn't. He was as hard as nails—hard as nails. They were in South America somewhere, Rio, I think it was, when Jim's wife died, and he only survived her about six months. We heard all about it from a fellow called Payne and his wife. Payne was in the Cable Company out there, and Jim knew them and asked them to bring Eleanor home. She was only seven or eight then, a dark, solemn little chit as ever you saw, poor dear. By God! you could tell she'd been through it. I can see them all standing in the hall now. Payne was a great stout chap with a grayish beard. His wife was a big woman too. They had Lord knows how many children of their own, I believe. And that little solemn elf Eleanor looked like a midget beside them. Thin as a herring she was, but as pretty as a fairy. She was always graceful, even as a bit of a child—sure in her movements—it was a pleasure to watch her...."


Arthur watched him with admiration. It was almost incredible to him that the old man could be ninety-one. And it crossed his mind that his uncle might have to wait many years yet before he came into the property.


“Claire!” ses he “ye’ve made me insanely happy.”

. . .