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A COUNTEBFEIT PRESENTMENT.
A COMEDY.

by Google

MR. W. D. HOWELLS'S WORKS.

A CHUi B ACQUAINTAMOB.
A CnnSTERFE T PBESENTMENT, and

HnjtedbvGoOgIC

A COUNTERFEIT
PRESENTMENT

THE PARLOUR CAR

EDINBURGH
DAVID DOUGLAS, CASTLE STREET

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lintrnrntl iBnitjitBify ^Brw

HnjtedbvGoOgIC

I. An EXIHAORDINARY RESEMBLANCE, 7

II. DisnNcnONs and Differences, . 61

III. Dissolving Views, . . ,99

IV. Nor AT ALL Like, . . ,141

THE PARLOUR CAR, a Fakce, . 191

152700

HnjtedbvGoOgIC

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AN EXTBAOEDINARY RESEMBLANCE.

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A COUNTERFEIT PRESENTMENT.

BABTr.Krr and CuMMiNQa.
fXS a lovely day in September, at that
" season when the moat sentimentaJ of
the young maples have begun to redden
along the hidden courses of the meadow
streams, and the elms, with a sudden impres-
sion o! despair in their languor, betray Seeks
of yellow on the green o£ their pendulous
boughs, — on such, a day at noon, two yonng
men enter the parlour of the Ponkwasset
Hotel, and deposit about the legs of the
piano the burdens they have been carrying :
a camp-stool namely, a field-easel, a closed
box of coloars, and a canvas to which,
apparently, some portion of reluctant nature

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has jast been transferred Th-eas propetties
belong to one of the young men, whose
general look and bearing readdy identify
him as therr owner he has a quiek, some
nhat furtive aye, a full brown beard, and
hair that falls m ^ careless mass down bia
forehead, which, as he dries it with his
handkerchief, sweeping the hair aside, shows
bioad and white; bis figure is firm and
sniiare, without heaviness, and in his move-
ment as well as in his face there is some-
thing of stubbornness, with a suggestion of
arrogance. The other, who has evidently
home his share of the common burdens from
:e of good comradeship, has nothing of

the painter ' h' jth' g
pwnter's peoul temp m t h
very abstracted look d d k J

f thi
has
S

The painter fl g
chair and dra

d d

hm
1 gb

J. t 1 k
If to
th

Oiimminsx (f
slighter man wh
speaks).—" It
face evinces
in his friend

th t
t dy

th f tl
t h g h
t t Hisg U
1 kmdiy mt rest
dm t t f

fatigue.

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rubs hia handkercliief vigorously across his
forehead, and then looks down »t hia diiaty
shoes, with apparency no mind to molest
them in their dustiness. ' ' The idea of
people going back to town in this weather I
However, I 'm glad they 're sach aaaea ; it
gives me free scope here. Every time I
don't hear some young woman banging on
that piano, I fall into transports of joy. "

CWnmin^fs, smiling.^" And after to-day
you won't be bothered even with me."

BarUelt. — " Oh, I shall rather miss you,
you know. I lilne somebody to contra-
dict."

Oummhigs. — " You can contradict the

BaHleU.—"fio, I can't. They've sent
him away ; and I believe you 'ro going to
carry off the laat of the table-girls with you
in the stage to-morrow. The landlord and
his wife are to run the eonoem themselves
the rest of the fall. Poor old follow 1 The
hard times have made lean pickings for him
this year. Hia house wasn't full in the
height of the season, and it 's been pretty
empty since."

Cammings. — "I wonder he doesn't shut
np altogether."

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BarfkU. — " Well, there are a good many
transienta, as they call them, at this time of
year, — fellows who drive over from the little
hill-towna with their girls iu buggies, and
take dinner and supper ; then there are pic-
nics from the larger places, ten and twelve
miles off, that come to the grounds on the
pond, and he always gets something out of
them. And as long aa he can hope for any-
thing else, my eight dollara a week are worth
hanging on to. Yes, I think I sliall stay
here all through October. I 've got no
orders, and it's cheap. Besides, I've
noanaged to get on confidential terms with
the local scenery ; I thought we should like
each other last summer, and I feel now that
we 're ready to swear eternal friendship. I
shall do some fairish work here, yet.
Phew!" He mops his forehead again,
and springing out of his chair he goes up to
the canvas, which he has faced to the wall,
and turning it about retires some paces, and
with a swift, worried glance at the windows
falls to considering it critically.

Cumminga.—^" You've done some fairish
work already, it I 'm any judge, " He comes
to his friend's side, as if to get his effect of
the picture. " I don't believe the spirit of a

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graoeful elm that just begins to feel the
approach of autiuim was ever tetter inter-
preted. There is something tremendously
tragical to me iu the thing. It makes me
think of some lovely and charming girl, all
grace and tenderness, who finds the lirst
grey hair in her head. 1 should call that
picture The First Grey Hair."

Barllelt, with unheeding petulance. —
"The whole thing's too infernally brown !
I beg your pardon, Cummings : what were
yoa saying ! Go on I I like your prattle
about pictures ; I do, indeed. I like to see
how far yoa art-cultured fellows can miss
all that was in a poor devil's mind when he
was at work. But I 'd rather you 'd senti-
mentalise my pictures than moralise them.
It there 's anything that mates me quite
limp, it 's to have an allegory discovered in
one of ray poor stupid old landscapes. But
The First Grey Hair isn't bad, really. And
a good, senseless, sloppy name like that often
sells a picture."

Oumminge. — " You 're brutal, Bartlett. I
don't believB your pictures would own you,
if they had their way about it."

BarfkU. — "And I wouldn't own rtem if
I had faim. I 've got about forty that I

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ivish aoinebudy elae ownt 1— and I li'ii the
money for them but ^ e seem inaeparalile,

good fellow, Cununmga, and 1 om a brute.
Come, I '11 make a, great conceseion to friend-
uliip ; it Btrucfc me, too, while I was at work
on that elm, that it was Bomething like — an
old girl ! " Bartlett laughs, and catching
his friend by either elioulder, twists him
about in his strong clutch, while he looks
him merrily in the face. " I 'm not a poet,
old fellow ; and sometimes I think I ought
to have been a painter and glazier instead of
a mere pMnter. I believe it would have
paid better. "

OMjnmiiiffS. — " Bartlett, I hate to have you
talk in that way."

Bartlett.—" Oh, I know it 'b a stale kind. "

Cumminge, — " It's woraa than stale. It's
destructive. A man can soon talk himaelf
out ot heart with hie better self. You can
end by really being aa sordid-minded and
hopeless and low-purpoaed aa you pretend
to be. It 'a inaanity. "

BartUtt.~"Good'. I've ha<l ray little
knock on the head, you know. I don't
deny being cracked. But I 'vo a method in

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Cammings. — "They all have. But it'sa
very poor method ; and I don't believe you
could say just what youra is. You think.
1 ecause a girl on whom you set your fancy —
t nse to pretend it was your heart —

found ut she didn't like you na well as she
th ugbt and honestly told you so in good
t me til t your wisest course is to take up
tl at 51 f misanthrope which begins with
joura If andleavespeopletoimaginehowlow
an opinion you have of the rest of mankind."

Bartlett. — "My dear fellow, you know I
always speak well of that young lady. I 've
invariably told you that she behaved in the
handsomest manner. She even expressed the
wish.— I distinctly remember being struck by
the novelty o! the wish at the time — that we
should remain fcienda. Yon misconceive" —

Oufliwiinfl'S.— " How many poor girls have
been jilted who don't go about doing mis-
anthropy, hut mope at home and sorrow and
sicken over their wrong in secret, — a wrong
that attacks not merely their pride, but their
life itself. Take the caae I was telling you oF :
did you ever hear of anything more atrocious!
And do you compare this little sting to your
vanity with a death-blow like that? "

Bartlett. — "It's quite impossible to corn-

by GoOg I C

pute the number of jilted girls who take the
line you describe. But if it were within the
aoope of arithmetic, I don't know that a
biUion of jilted girls would comfort me or
reform me. I never could regard myself in
that abstract way — a mere unit on one side
or other of tile balance. My little personal
snnb goes on rankling beyond the reach of
statistical consolatiou. But even if there
were any edification in the case of the young
lady in Paria, she's too far off to be an
example for me. Take some jilted gir!
nearer home, Cummings, if you want me to
go round sickening and sorrowing in secret.
I don't believe you can find any. Women
are much tougher about the pericardium
than we give them credit for, my dear fellow,
^much, I don't see why it should hurt a
woman more than a, man to be jilted. We
ahall never truly philosophise this important
matter till we regard women with something
of the fine penetration and impartiality with
which they regard each other, Look at the
ataba they give and take — they would kill
men 1 And the graceful ferocity witii which
they despatch any of their number who
happens to be down is quite unexampled in
natural history. How much do you suppose

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her lady frienda have left of that poor girl
whose case wrings your foolish bosom all the
way from Paris ? I don't believe eo much
as a boot-button. Why, even your corre-
spondent— a very lively woman, by the way
— can't conceal under all her indignation her
litUe satisfaction that go proud a girl aa
Miss What 's-her-nawe should have been
jilted. Of course, she doesn't say it."

Cumiaiiigs hotly. — "No, she doesn't say
it, and it's not to your credit to imagine it."

Baittett, with a laugh. — "Oh, I dbn't aak
any praise for the discovery. You deserve
praise for not making it. It does honour to
your good heart. Well, don't be vexed, old
fellow. And in trying to improve me on
this little point — a weak point, 1 11 allow,
with me— do mc the justice to remember
that I didn't flaunt my misanthropy, as you
call it, in your face ; I didn't force ray con-
fidence upon you."

Oummings, with compunction.— " I didn't
mean to hurt your feelings, Bartlett."

Bariietf.— "Well, you haven't. It's all
right,"

Oummings, with anxious conoeru.— "I
wish I could think so."

Bartlett, dryly. — " You have my leave —

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18 A COTTNTEBKEIT PRE8BNTMENrr.

my request, in fact. " He takes a turn about
the room, tiinistitig hia fingera through, the
hair on his forehead, and lettting it fall in a
heavy tangle, and then pulling at either aide
of his parted beard. In facing away from
one of the sofas at the end of the room, he
looks back over his shoulder at it, falters,
wheels about, and picks up from it a lady's
shawl and hat. "Hallo!" He lets the
shawl fall again into picturesque folds on the
sofa. ' ' This 13 the spoil of no local beauty,
Cumminga. Look here ; I don't understand
this. There has been an arrival,"

Gumimnga, joining hia friend in contempla-
tion of the hat and shawl : "Yes; it's an
arrival beyond all question. Those are a
lady's things. I should think that waa a Paris
hat." They remain looking at the things
some moments in silence.

BaHklt. — "How should a Paris hat get
here ? I know the landlord wasn't expecting
it. But it can't be going to stay ; it 'a here
through some caprice. It may be a transient
of quality, but it 's a transient. I suppose
we shall see the young woman belonging to
it at dinner. " He sets the hat on his fist, and
holds it at arm's length from. him. " What
a, curious thing it is about clotJios " —

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RESEMBLANCE. 19

Cummings. — "Don't, Bartlett, don't 1"

BartleU.~"Wki/^."

CumTidnijx.—" \ don't know. It makes
me feel aa if you were offering an indignity
to the yonng lady herself,"

Bartlett, — -"You express my idea exactly.
Thifl frippery has not only the girl's per-
sonality hnt her very spirit in it. This hat
looks like her ; you can infer the whole
woman from it, body and soul. It haa a
conscious Mr, and bo has the shawl, as if
they had been eavesdropping and had under-
stood everythmg we were saying. They
know all about my heart-hreak, and so will
she as soon as she puts them on ; she will be
lEtereated in me. The hat's in good taste,
isn't it? "

Cammirtga, with sensitive reverence for
the millinery which his friend handles so
daringly.—" Exquisite it seems to me ; hut I
don't know about snch things."

Bartfcii.—" Neither do I; but I feel about
them. Besides, a painter and glazier sees
some things that are hidden from even a
progressive minister. Let us interpret the
lovely being from her hat. This knot of
pde-blue flowers betrays her a blonde ; this
lace, this mass of silky, flu^, cob-webby

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«-!iat-do-yon-call-it, and this delicate straw
fabric show that ahe ia slight ; a stout
woman would kill it, or die in the attempt.
And I fancy — here pure inspiration comes
to my aid— that she is tallish. I 'm afraid
of her ! No— wait ! The shawl haa some-
thing to say." He takes it ap aod catches
it across his arm, where he scans it critically.
" I don't know that I understand the shawl,
exactly. It proves her of a good height, —
a short woman wouldn't, or had better not,
wear a shawl,— hut this black colour ; should
you think it was mourning ! Have we a
lovely young widow among us! "

Cvmmings.^" I dont see how it could go
with the hat, if it were."

BaHlett. — " True ; the hat ja very pensive
in tone, bat it isn't mourning. This ahawl 's
very light, it 's very warm ; I construct from
it a pretty invalid. " He lets the shawl slip
down his arm to his hand, and flings it back
upon the sofa. " Wa return from the young
lady's heart to her brain — where she carries
her sentiments. She has a nice taste in
perfames, Cummings : faintest violet ; that
goes with the blue. Of what religion is a
yonng lady who uses violet, my reverend

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Cummings, — " Bartlett, yoa 're outrageous.
Put down that hat ! "

BarlleU.--"'So, seriously. What is her
little pathetic specialty ? Docs she sketch !
Does she scribble? Tcli me, thou wicked
bat, tloes she flirt t Come ; out uith the
vowB that you have heard poured into the
shelly ear imdec this knot of pale-Wue flowers !
Where be her gibes now, bee gambols, ber
llashes of merriment ? Now get you to my
lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an
inch thick, to this favour she must come ;
make her laugh at that. Dost thou think,
Horatio Cummings, Cleopatra, looked o' this
fashion ? Aild smelt so ? " — be presses the
kuot of artificial fiowera to his moustache^
' ' Pah i " He tosses the hat on the sofa and
walks away.

Cummingfi. — "Bartlett, this is atrocious.
I protest " —

Bartleit. — "Well, give me up, Itellyon."
He returns, and takes bis friend by the
shoulders, as before, and laughs. " I'm, not
worth your refined pains. I might be good,
at a pinch, but I never could be truly lady-
like."

Cumviinge. — "You like to speak an infinito
deal of nothing, dont you ?"

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Barthtt. — "It's the only thing that makes
conversation." Ab he releaaes CummingB,
and turns away from him, in Ihe doorway
he confronts an elderly gentleman, whoae
wliite hair and white mouatache give distinc-
tion to his handsome florid face. There is
something military in his port, as he stands
inimoveably erect upon the threshold, his left
hand lodged in the breast of his froch-coat^
and his head carried with an officer-lilie air
of command. His visage grows momently
redder and redder, and his blue eyes blaze
□pon Bartlett with a fascinated glare that
briefly preludes the burst of fury with which
he advances toward him

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Geseeal Wyatt, Baetlett, and

CUMMINGS.

GeiKral Wyatt. — " Youinfemalaconniirel!
What are you doing here!" He raiaea hia
Bttck at Bartlett, who remains motionlessly
frowning in wrathful bewilderment, his
stro&g hand knotting itself into, a fist where
it hangs at his aide, while Cummin^ starts
toward them in dismay, with his hand raised
to interpose. "Didn't I tell you if I ever
Bet eyes on yon again, you villMn — didn't I
warn jou that if you ever crossed my patli,
you " — He stopa witii a violent eelf-arreat,
and lets hia stick drop as he throws up both
hia hands in amaze. "Good Heavena! It's
a mistake 1 I beg your pardon, sir; I do,
indeed," Ha lets fsJl his hands, and stands
staring into Bartlett's face with his illusion
apparently not fully dispelled. " A mistake,
sir, a mistake. I was misled, sir, by the

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2-1 A (iOCSTEEFElT

most prodigious resemblance " — At the
sound of voices in the corridor without, he
turns from Baitlett, and starts back toward
the door,

A Voke, very sweet and weak, without,
—"I left them inhere, I think."

Another Voice. — "Yon must sit down,
Constance, and let me look."

The First Voke.~"Oh, they 11 be here."

General Wyatt, in a loud and anxious
tone. — "Margaret, Margaret! Don't bring
Conetence in here I Go away \ " At the
moment lie reaches the door by which he
come in, two ladies in black enter the parlour
by the other door, the younger leaning
weakly on the arm of the elder and with a
languidly drooping head letting 1 e eyes o e
listlessly about over the chairs n 1 sofa.
With an abrupt start at sight of Ba tlett
who has mechanically turned t<D« a d then
the elder lady arrests their mo* m nt

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Mes. Wyatt, Cobstascb, and iJte others.

Mre. Wyatt. — "Oh, in mercy's name!"
The young lady wearily lifts her eyefl ; they
fall upon Bartlett'a face, and a low cry parts
her lips as she opproachea a pace or two
□earer, releasing her arm from her mother's.

Constance. — "Ah!" She stops; her thin
hands waver before her face, aa if to clear or
to obstruct her vision, and all at once she
sinks forward into a little slender heap upon
the floor, almost at Bartlett's feet. He
instantly drops upon his knees beside her,
and fltoops over her to lift her np.

Mre. IFiyaH. — "Don't touch her, you cruel
wretch ! Yonr touch is poison ; the sight of
you is murder ! " Kneeling on the other side
of her daughter, she seta both her hands
against hie breast and pushes him back,

Oeneral Wyatt. — "Margaret, stop I Iiookl
Look at him agun ! It isn't he !"

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J\!rs. HViK.— "Nothe? Don't tell me!
What!" She clutches Bortlett's arm, and
scans his face with dilating eyes. ' ' Oh ! it
isn't, it isu't ! But go away, — go away, all
the sa e 1 You may be au innocent man,
but she would perish in your presence.
Keep J u" hands from her, sir 1 If your
vicked heart is not yet satisfied with jour
wicked work — Excuse me ; I tlon't know
what I m saying I But if you have any
p ty Q J o r faithless soul— I — oh, speai: for
me, James, and send him — implore him to
go away!" She bows her face over her
daughter's pale visage, and soba.

Qeiifral Wyatt. — " Sir, you must pardon
us, and have the great goodness to be patient.
Yon have a right to feel yourself aggrieved
by what has happeued, but no wrong is
meant, — no offence. You must be bo kind
as to go awaj. I will make you all the
needed apologies and explanations." He
stoops over bis daughter, aa Bartlett, in a
sort of daze, rises from his knees and retires
a few steps. "I beg your pardon, sir," —
addressing himself to Cummings, — "will you
help me a moment!" Cummings, with
delicate sympathy and tenderness, lifts the
arms of the insensible girl to her father's

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EESEMBLANCE, 27

neck, and asaiata the General to riae with hia
barden. "Thanks! She 's hardly heavier,
poor child, than a ghoat." The tears stand
in hia eyes, as he gathers her closer to him
and kisses her wan cheek, "Sir," — aa ho
moTes away he speaks to Bartlett,— " do mo
the tavonr to remain here till I can return to
offer you reparation." He makes a stately
effort to bow to Bartlett in leaving the room,
while his wife, who follows with the young
lady's hat and ahawl, looks back at the
painter with open abhorrence.

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A. C0I7KTEKFEIT PBESBN

BAETLETP "»(/ Cl'M

Sartktt, turning to Ma friend from the
retreating group on whicli he has kept his
eyes steadfastly fixed. — "Where are their
keepers ?" He is pale with suppressed rage.

Cummings. — "Their keepers !"

Baiilett, savagely. — "Yes! Have they
escaped from them, or is it one of the new
ideas to let lunatics go about the country
alone? E that old fool hadn't dropped hia
stick, I 'd have knocked him over that table
in another instant. And that other old
maniac, — what did she mean by pushing me
back in that way ! How do you account for
this thing, CummingB ? T\ hat d j u m k
of it!"

Camminga. — "I do t k w p n my
word. There seems tb sfm m try —
some painful mystery B t th g tl ma
will be back directly, I upp se a I —

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AN BXTBAOBDIHARY BESEMBLANCK. 29

BartleU, crushmg hia hat over his eyes. —
"III leave you to receive him and his
mystery., I've had enough of both." He
movea toward the door.

Cumndngs, detaining him. — " Bartlett,
you 're surely not going away ? "

JarWeit— " Yea, laml"

CumnBKjjs.^" But he'll be here in a
moment. He said he would come back and
satisfy the claim which you certainly have
to Ba explanation. "

Bartlett, furiousiy, — ' ' Claun ? I 've a
perfect Alabama Claim to an explanation.
He can't satisfy it ; he shall not tiy. It 's a
little too mnoh to expect me to be Batisfled
with anything he can aay after what's
passed. Gat out of the way, Cummings, or
1 11 put you on top of the piano, "

Cummmj8.^"Yo\i may throw me out of
the window, if you like, but not till I 've
done my beat to keep you here. It's a
shame, it s a crime to go away. You talk
about lunatics ; you 're a raving madman,
jourself Have one glimmer of reason, do ;
and see ivhat you 're about. It 's a mistake ;
it s a miaunderstanding. It 's his right, it 's
your duty, to have it cleared up. Come,
, Bartlett, and a clean

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one. Don't give way to your abominable
temper. What? You won't atay ? Bartlett,
I blush for you ! "

BarUstt.—"B[aBh unseen, then 1" He
thruBta Cummrnga aside and puaies furiously
from the room. Cummings looks into the
corridor after him, and then returns, panting,
to the piano, and mechanically rearranges the
things at his feet ; he walks nervously away,
and takea some turns ap and down the room,
looking utterly bewildered, and apparently
uncertain whether to go or stay. But he has
decided upon the only course really open to
him by sinking down into one of the arm-
chairs, when General Wyatt appears at the
threshold of the door on the right of the
piano. CummingB rises and comes forward
in great embanafsment to meet him.

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« EXTRAOKDJNARY BBaEMBluUJCB. 31

CcMiiiKGS aitd Gbheral Wyait,

General f%aJ[, wittalookofaurpriseatnot
seeing Eartlett. — "The other gentlem;in "—

Omnmhigs.—" My friend has gone out.
I hope he will return soon. He has — I
hardly know what to say to you, air. He
baa done himself great injustice ; but it was
natural that under the circumstances" —

General Wyatt, with hurt pride. — -"Per.
fectly. I should have lost ray temper, too ;
but I think I should have waited at the
tequeat— the prayer of an older man, I
don't mind his temper ; the other villain had
no temper. Sir, am I right in addressing
y u as th Rev. Arthur Cummingst"

Oimmings. — ^"My name ia Arthur Cum-
mmg I am a minister. "

G I WyaU.—"l thought I was not
m t k n his time. I heard you preach last
S ndaj n Boston ; and I know your cousin,

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Major Cummings of the 34th Artillery, I am
General Wyatt."

Ctfrnmings, with a start of painful sur-
prise and sympathy. — " General Wyatt!"

Oeaeral Wyatt, keenly.^" Youroousia has
mentioned me to yon?"

Cnmmings. — "Yes, — oh yes, certainly;
certainly, very often. General Wyatt. But"
—endeavouring to recover himself — "your
name is known to ns all, and honoured. I —
I am glad to see you back ; I^understood
you were in Paris."

Gena-ul Wyatt, with fierce defiance. — "I
waa in Paris three weeks ago," Some
moments of awkward silence ensue, during
which General Wyatt does not relax his
angry attitude.

Ciimmings, finally. — " I sua aorry my
friend is not here to meet you. I ought to
say, in justice to him, that his hasty temper
does great wrong to his heart and judgment."

Oerteral Wyatt. — "Why, yes, sir ; so does

Cummings, with a respectful smile lost
npon the General. — "And I know that he
will certiiiJy be grieved in this instance to
have yielded to it."

General Wyatt, with sudden ii

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3!!

"I hope so, sir. But I t It g th

aony that he haa done it. I li t ly

explanation but a request to k — y

great and strange favour to aal — d I m
not sure that I should h 1 1 t t t ! m
civilly enough thcougho t an t uit
view to ask it properly.' C mm gsl te la
with an air of attentive pe t b t 1.
to this strange etatament n e.[ se th
than a look o£ question wh 1 th G I

pokes about on the carpet t h f t w tl
the point of hia stick for a moment before he
brings it resolutely down upon the floor with
a thump, and resumes, fiercely again : "Sir,
your friend is the victim of an extraordinary
resemblance, which is so much more p^nfnl
tfl us than we could have jnade it to him
tliat I have to stmggle with my reason to
believe that the apology should not come
from hie side rather than mine. Ho may
feel that we have outraged him, but every
look of his, every movement, every tone of
his voice, is a mortal wound, a deadly insult
to us. He should not live, sir, in the same
soiar system ! " The General deals the floor
another stab with his cane, while his eyes
bum vindictively upon the mild brown orbs
of Cummings, wide open with astonishment.

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He falters, with returiiing c
his attitude; "I— 1 heg yonr pardon, sir;
I am ridieulouB." He closes his lips pa-
tJietically, and lets fall his head. When he
lifts it again, it ia to address Cummings with
a aingtilar gentleness : "I know that I speak

Cumminga. — "I try to be a good man."

General Wyatt. — "I had formed that idea
of you, air, in the pulpit. Will yovl do me
the great tindness to answer a question,
personal to myaelf, which I must aak?"

Cjimmings.^" By all means,"

Oeneral Wyatl. — " You epoke of aupposing
me still in Paris. Are you aware o£ any
circumstances — painful oircumatances— con-
nected with my presence there t Pardon
my asking ; I wonldn't press you if T could

Cmamingi, with reluctance, — " I had just
heard something about — a letter from a

General Wyatt, bitterly. — ' ' The news baa
travelled fast. Well, sir, a curious chance —
a pitiless caprice of destiny — connects your
friend with that miserable atory." At
Cmnmings'a look of amaze: "Through no
fault of his, sir ; through no fault of bis.

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Sir, I shall not seem to obtrude my trouble
unjustifiably upon you when I tell you
how ; you will see that it was ueceesary for
me to Bpeak. I am glad you already know
Bomething of the affair, and I am sure that
yon will regard what I have to say with the
right feeling of a gentleman, ^ — of, as you aay,

Cummiags. — " Whatever you think neces-
sary to say to me shall be sacred. But I hope
you won't feel that it is necessary to say any-
thing more. I am confident that when my
friend has your assurance from me that what
has happened is the result of a distresaing
association " —

Oenerui Wyatt. — " I thank you, air. But
something more is due to him ; how much
more you shall judge. Something more is
due to ufl : I wish to preserve the appearance
of sanity, in his eyes and your own. Never-
theless " — the General's tone and bearing
perceptibly stiffen — " if you are reluct-

Cmnmings, with reverent cordiality,—
" General Wyatt, I shall feel deeply honoured
by whatever confidence you repose in me. I
need not say how dear your fame is to na
all. " General Wyatt, visibly moved, bowa to

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4 COCFNTERFEIT PRESENTMEST.

the young miiiister. "Itwaa oi Ij ua joi
account tjiat I hesitated. "

General WyaU.—"Tiitaiks. lunieratand
I will be explicit, but I will try to be bnef
Your friend bears this striking, this pamful
resemhlance to the man who has brought
this blight upon ua all ; yes, sir —at Cuiq
minga'slookof deprecation, — " to a scoundrel
whom I hardly know how to oharacteriao
aright — in the presence of a clergyman.
Two yeaia ago — doubtless your correspondent
has BTJtten — my wife and daughter (they
were then abroad without me) met him in
Paris ; and he won the poor child's affection.
My wife's judgment was also swayed in his
favour, — against her first impulse of distrust ;
but when I saw him, I conld not endure him.
Yet I was helpless ; my girl's happiness waa
bound up in him ; all that I could do was to
insist upon delay. He waa an American,
well related, unobjectionable by all the tests
which society can apply, and I might have
had to wait long for the proofs that an
accident gave me against him. The man's
whole soul waa rotten ; at the time he had
wound himself into my poor girl's innocent
heart, a woman was living who had the just
and perhaps the legal claim of a wife upon

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him ; he was a felon beaidea, — a felon
shidded through pity for his friends by the
man whose name he had forged ; he was of
oourse a liar and a coward : I beat him with
my stick, sir. Ah I I made him confess his
infamy nnder his own hand, and then "—the
General advances defiantly npon Cummings,
who nnconsciously retires a pace — ' ' and then
I compelled him to breai with my daughter.
Do yon think I did right!"
Cummings. -~"l don't exactly understand,"
General Wyatt.- — ^"Why, air, it happens
often enough in this shabby world that a
man gains a poor girl's love, and then jilts
her. I chose what I thought the leas
terrible sorrow for my child. I could not
tell her how filthily unworthy ho was with- •
out bringing to her pure heart a sense of
intolerable contamination ; I could not endure
to speak of it even to my wife. It seemed
better that they should both suffer such
wrong as a broken engagement might bring
them than that they should know what I
knew. He was master of the part, and
played it well ; he showed himself to them
simply a heartless scoundrel, and he remains
in my power, an outcast now and a convict
whenever I will. My story, as it seems to

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3S A COITKTEHFEIT FRESESTMENT.

be, IB weil known in Paris ; but th w rst
unknawii. I choose still that t h 11 b
thought my girl waa the victim f iastar ilj
slight, and I bear with her and h th

the insolent pity with which th w Id aii
8uoh sorrow. " He pauses, and th b k Ij
resumes : "The affair has not t n ed t
as I hoped, in the little I could h p fr
it. My trust that the blow, wb h m t
sink so deeply into her heart, w Id t h
her pride, and that this would h Ip h to
react against it, wa^i mistaken. In auch
things it appears a woman has no pride ; I
did not know it ; we men are different.
The blow crushed her ; that was all. Some-
times I am afraid that I must yet try the
effect of the whole trutfi upon her ; that I
must try if the knowledge of all his baseness
CBiiiiot restore to her the self-respect which
the wrong done herself seems to have
robbed her of. And yet I tremble lest the
sense of his fouler shame— I may be fatally
temporising ; but in her present state, I
dread any new shock for her ; it may be
death — I" — ■ He pauses again, and seta his
lips firmly ; all at once he breaks into a sob.
"I — I beg your pardon, sir."
Citm'miims,^"T)ou'tl You wrong your-

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self and me. I have seen Miaa Wyatt ; but

General Wyatt, — "You have seen her
ghost. You have not aeen the radiant
creature that was once alive. Well, sir;
enough of this. There ia little left to trouble
you with. We landed eight days ago, and
I have since been looking about for some
place in which my daughter could hide
heraelf ; I can't otherwise suggest her morbid
sensitiveness, her terror of people. This
region was highly commended to me for its
heaithfulness ; but I have come upon this
house by chance, I uoderatood that it was
empty, and I thought it more than probable
that we might pass t^e autumn months here
unmolested by the presence of any one
belonging to our world, if not in entice
Bocluaion. At the best, my daughter would
hardly have been able to endure another
change at once ; so far as anything could
give her pleasure, the beauty and the wild
quiet of the region had pleased her, but she
is now quite prostrated, sir, " —

Cummings, definitively,—" My friend will
go away at once. There is nothing else for
it."

General ITi/aM,— "That ia too much to ask."

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Cttwniinjs. — "I won't conceal my belief
that he will think so. But there can he no
qnea^on witli him when "—

General Wyatt. —' ' When you tell hira our
story ! " After a moment : ' ' Yes, he haa
a right to know it — as the rest of the world
knows it. You most tell him, air."

Ciimmings, gently. — "No, he need krtow
nothing beyond the fact of this resemblance
to Bome one painfully associated with your
past lives. He is a man whose real tender-
ness of heart would revolt from knowledge
that could inflict fuiHJier sorrow ui>on you."

Oeneral Wyatt. — " Sir, will you convey to
this friend of yours an old man's very humble
apology, and sincere prayer for his forgive-

Cummings,^" He will not exact anything
ot that sort. The evidence of misunder-
standing will be citar to him at a word from

General Wyait,—" "Bwt he ha,s a right to
this explanation from my own lips, and —
Sir, I am culpably weak. But now that I
have missed seeing him hero, I confess that
I would willingly avoid meeting him. The
mere sound of his voice, as I heard it before
I saw him, in first coming upon you, was

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S EXTEAOEDISABY RESEMBLANCE. 41

h to madden me. Can you excuse my
IB dereliction to him?"

Oiimmiags. — "I will answer for him."

General Wyatl. — "Thm'kB. It seems
monstrous that I should be asking and
accepting these great favours. But you are
doing a deed oE charity to a, helpless man
utterly lieggared in pride." He chokea
with emotion, and does not speak for a
moment. "Your friend is also— he is not
also — a clergyman t "

Cumminga, smiling. — ' ' No. He is a,
painter."

General Wyati.--"ls he a, man of note?
Successful in his profession ! "

C«mmi?lffS. — " Not yet. But that ia
certain to come."

Oeneral HV''^"He ia poor?"

Camminys. — "He ia a young painter."

General Jfj/oW.— " Sir, excuse me. Had
he planned to remain here some time yet?"

CMmmingf, reluctantly. — "He has heen
sketching here. He had expected to stay
through October."

Oemral Wyaft. — "You make the sacrifice
hard to accept — I beg your pardon I But I
must accept it. I am bound liand and

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Cumminga. — "! am sorry to have been
obliged to tell yon this,"

Qeneral W^alt. — "I obliged ' you, sir; I
obliged you. Give me your advice, sir;
you know your friend. What shall I do?
I am not rich. I don't belong to a branch
of the government setvioe in which people
enrich themselves. But I have my pay ;
and if your friend could sell me the pictures
ha 's been painting here " —

Oummilms , — "That 's quite impossible.
Thera is no form in which I could propose
Bnch a thing to a man of his generous pride."

General WyaU.—"WeU, then, sir, I must
satisfy myself as I cain to remain hia debtor.
Win you kindly undertake to tell him ! "

An Elderly Serving- Woman, who appears
timidly and anxiously at the right-hand
door.— -" General Wyatt."

General Wyatt, with a start. — ' ' Yea,
Maryl Wellt"

Mary, in vanishing. —"Mrs. Wyattwishes
to apeak with you. "

General Wyatt, going up to Cummings. —
"I must go, sir. I leave unsaid what I
cannot even try to say." He offers his

Cumminge, grasping the proffered hand.^

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"Everything is understood." But as Mr,
Cummings returns from following General
Wjatt to the door, hia face does not confirm
the entire security of his words. He looks
anxious and perturbed, and when he has
tsiken up his hat and stick, he staiida pon-
dering absent-mindedly. At last he puts
on his hat and starts briskly toward the
door. Before he reaches it, he encounters
Bartlett, who advanees abruptly into the
room. " Oh 1 I was going to look for you. "

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Y COtJSTERFElT

CuMMiNos and Babtlett,

Sartktt, sulkily. — " Wore you ?" He
walkfl, without looking at Cumminga, to
where his painter's paraphernalia are lying,
and begins to pick them up.

Cummings. — "Yes." In great embarrass-
ment : " Bartlett, General Wyatt has been

Bartlett, without looking round.— "Who
ia General Wyatt!"

Cummmgs. — "I mean the gentlcmaawho
— whom you wouldn't wait to see."

Bartto.^"Um !" He has gathered the
things into his arms, and is about to leave
the room.

dunmings, in great distress.— "Bartlett,
Bartlett ! Don't go ! I implore you, if you
have any regard for me whatever, to hear
what I have to say. It 's boyish, it 'a cruel,
it "s cowardly to behave as you 're doing 1 "

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AN EXTEAORDISAHY EESEMBLANCB. 45

Bart^ea— "Anything more, Mr. Cuni-
muigs ! I give you benefit of clergy."

Oamminga. — "I take it— to denounce your
proceeding as something that you 'U always
be sorry for and ashamed of."

Bartlat.—" Oh I Then, if you have quite
freed your mind, I think I may go."

Cummiage, — "No, no! You mustn't go
Don't go, my dear fellow. Forgi e me I
tnow how insulted you feel, hut upon j
Boul it's all a mistake, — it is, indeed Ce
eral Wj^tt "—Bartlett falters anonenta I
stands as if irresolute whether to stay ind
liaten or push on out of the r om — the
young lady — I don't know how to begin !

Sartktt, relenting a little. —"Well! I'm
sorry for you, Cummings. I left a very
awkward business to you, and it wasn't
yours either. As for General Wyatt, as he
ehooses to call himself " —

Ouramsnj's, in amaze. — " Call himself ?
It's his name/"

Bartleti. — "Oh, very likely ! So is King
David his name, when he happens to be in a
Scriptural craze. What explanation have
yon been commissioned to make me ? What
apology ?"

Cummings. — " The most ilefinite, the most

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Batisfactory, You resemble in a moat extra-
vi^iinaiy manner a man wlio haa inflicted an
abominable wrong npon these people, a
treacheroua and cowardly villain " —

Bartlett, in a buret of fury. — "Stop! Ib
that your idea of an apology, an. explacation !
Isn't it enouglt that I should be tbreateried,
and vilified, and have people fainting at the
sight of me, but I must be told by way of
reparation that it all happens because I look
like a rascal ?"

Citnaninga. — "My dear friend! Do listen
tome!"

Bartktt. — " No, sir, I won't listen to yon !
I 'vB listened too much 1 What right, I
should like to know, have they to find this
resemblance in rue ? And do they suppose
that I 'm going to be placated by being told
that they treat me like a rogue because I
look like one? It's a little too much. A
man oalls ' Stop thief ' after me and expects
me to be delighted when he tells me I look
like a thief ! The reparation is an additional
insult. I don't choose to know that they
fancy this infamous resemblance in me.
Their pretending it is an outrage ; and your
reporting it to me is an offence. Will you
tell them what I say? Will jou tell this

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General Wyatt and the rest of hia Bedlam-
broko-loose, that they inay all go to the "—
Gummiifjs. — " For ahame, for shame ! You
outrage a temble aoiTow ! You insult a
trouLIe aore to death ! You trample upon
an angabli that should be sacred to your

BaHktt, resting his elbow on the corner of
the piano. — "What — what do jon mean,
Cummings!"

CttntmiJija. — "What do I mean? What
you are not worthy to know I 1 mean that
these people, against whom you vetit your
atupid rage, are worthy of angelic pity. I
mean that by some diaaatrous mischance you
resemble to the lite, in tone, manner, and
feature, the wretch who won that poor
girl's heart, and then crushed it ; who —
Bartlett, look here I These are the people —
thia is the young lady — of whom my friend
wrote me from Paris : do you understand?"

BaHlelt, ia a duU bewilderment. — " No, I
don't understand."

Cumminja. — " Why, you know what we
were talking of juat before they came in :
you know what I told you of tliat cruel
buainesB,"

BartkU.—"VieW>"

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Gitmmiims.—"\Vo\\, this is tlie young
Mj "—

Bartleit, dftuntedly. — "Oh, coma now!
You don't expect me to believe that ! It
isn't a, stage-play."

Gummmgs. — "Indeed, indeed, I t«ll you
tiie miserable truth."

Bartlett. — "Do you mean to say that (/ii'a
is the young girl who was jilted in that way ?
Who — Do you mean— Do you intend to
tell nxe — Do you suppose — Cummings " —

Gwmminijs. — " Vea, yes, yes!"

Bartleit. — "Why, man, she's in Paris,
according to yonr own showing ! "

Cvimminfja. — "She was in Paris three weeks
ago. They have just brought her home, to
help her hide her suffering, as if it were her
shanie, from all who know it. They are in
this house by chance, but they are here,
I mean what I say. You rrmit believe it,
shocking and wild as it is. "

Bartleit, after a prolonged silenoo in which
he seems trying to realise the fact. — "If you
were a man capable of such a ghastly joke
— but that 'b impossible." He is silent again,
as before. "And I— What did you say
abont me? That I look hke a man who"^
He stops and stares into Cumtnings's face

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without apeakmg as f h n trj g t
puzzle the my terj t tl w tl f
head, he mu f d t d

reverent tend mee Th t— th t— b k
—lily! Ohl Wth dd tart h

flings his hn d po th 1 d p
whoae hidden tn g 1 m witl th bl w,
and advances upon OummingB ; " And yoa
can leU it ? Slianie on yoti ! It ought to be
known to no one upon eartli ! And yon —
yon Bhow that gentle creatnre's death-wound
to teach. Boniething like human reason to a,
aurly dog Uke me ? Oh, it 's monstrons 1
I iiMsn'f worth it. Better have lot me go,
where I would, how I would. What did it
matter what I thought or said ? And I — I
look like that devil, do I ? I have his voice,
his face, hiq movement ? Cummings, you 've
over-avenged yourself, "

Oammings.—" J)ou't take it that way,
Bartlett. It is hideous. But I didn't make
it so, nor you. It 's a fatality, it 'a a hateful
chance. But you see now, don't you,
Bartlett, how the sight of you must affect
them, and how anxious her father must he
to avoid you ! He moat humbly asked your
forgiveness, and he hardly knew how to ask
that you would not let her see you again.

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But I told him there could be no question
with you ; that of course you would prevent
it, and at once. I know it 's s. great sacrifice
to expect you to go "—

Bafilett.— "Go? What are you talking
about ? " He breaks again from the daze
into which he had relapsed. " If there 'b a
hole oa the fate of the earth where I can
hide myself from them, I want to find it.
What do you think I'm made of? Go? I
ought to be shot away out of a mortar ; I
ought to be struck away by lightning ! Oh,
I can't excuse you, Cummings ! The indeli-
cacy, the brutality of telling me that ! No,
no,— I can't overlook it." He shakes his
head and walka away from hft friend ; then
he returns, and bends on him a look of
curious inquiry. ' ' Am I really such a
ruffian "—he speaks very gently, almost
meekly, now — "that you didn't believe
anything short of that would bring me to
my senses? Who told you this of her?"

Outnmings.^" Her father."

Barltett. — " Oh, that's too loathsome 1
Had the man no soul, no mercy* Did he
think me such a consummate beast that
nothing less would drive me away? Yes,
he did I Yes, I made him think so I Oh t"

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. 51

He hangs hia head and waUta away with a
shudder.

Cutnmings. — "I don't tnow that he did
you that injustice; but I'm afraid / did.
I was at my wits' end. "

Bartktl, very humbly. — " Oh, I don't
know that you were wrong."

Oummings. — " I suppose that his ansiefy
for her life made it comparatively easy for
him to speak of the hurt to her pride. She
can't be locg for this world, "

BaHleU. ~ ' ' No, she had the dying look ! "
After a long paase, in which he has con-
tinued to wander airale^y about the room :
*' Oumminga, is it necessary that you should
tell him you told me ? "

Cunvmings. — " You know I hate eonceal-
meots of any kind, Bartlett."

BaHleU.—" Oh, well ; do it then !"

Ctimminge. — "But I don't know that we
slmll see him again ; and even if we do, I
don't see how I can tell him unless he asks.
It 's rather painful. "

Bartietf.— "Well, take that Uttle sin on
your conscience if you can. It seems to me
too ghastly that I should know what you 've
told me ; it's indecent. Cummings, " — after
another pause, — "how does a man go about

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such a thi g H w doe 1
the woman wh 1 rt h has won that he
doesn't care I h and break the faith
that she 'w Id ha etak d her life on ? Oh.
I know, — women do such things, too ; but
it 's different, by a whole world's diBerenoe.
A man comes and a man gocB, but a woman
slays. The world is before him after that
happens, and we don't think him much of a
man if he can't get over it. But she, she has
been sought out ; she has been made to be-
lieve that her smile and her looks are heaven,
poor, foolish, helpless idol ! her fears have
been laid, all her pretty maidenly traditions,
her proud reserve overcome ; she takes him
into her inmoat soul, — to find that hia love
is a lie, a lie I Imagine it ! She can't do
anything. She can't speak. She can't
move aa long as she lives. She must stay
where she has been left, and look and act as
if nothing had happened. Ob, good Heaven !
And I, / look like a man who could do that !"
After a, silence : "I feel as if there were
blood on me <" He goes to the piano, and
gathering tip bis things tnms about towards
Oommings again : "Come, man; I 'ingoing.
It's samlege to stay an instant, — to exist."
CvmirUnga.— "Don't take it in that way,

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Bartlett. I blame myself very macli for not
having spared you iu vhat I said. I
wouldn't have told you of it, if I could hivc
supposed that nn accidental reeemblauce of
the sort would distress you so."

Bartlell, contritely. — " You had to tell me.
I forced you to extreme measures. I'm
qidte worthy to look. like him. Good Lord !
I suppose I should be capable of his work."
He moves towards the door with his burden,
but before he reaches it General Wyatt, from
the corridor, meets him with an air of con-
fused agitation. Bartlett halts awkwardly,
and some of the things slip from his hold to
the floor.

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PJtliaENTMBNT.

Oekeral Wtatt, CoMMiNCfs, and Bartlett.

Genemi IT^t— "Sir, 1 am glad to see
ytm." He pronounces the civility with a
maimer evidently affected by the effort to
reconcile Bartlett'a offensive personal appear-
ance with his own sense of duty. "I— I
was sorry to mias you before ; and now t
wish — Your friend "— referring with an in-
quiring glance to Cummings — " has explained
to you the cause of our very extraordinary
behaviour, and I hope you " —

Barilett.—"M.r. Cummiugs hsa told me
that I have the misfortune to resemble some
one with whom you have painful associa-
tions. That is quite enough, and entirely
justifies you. I am going at once, and I
trust you wili forgive my rudeneaa in absent-
ing myself a moment ago, T have a had
temper ; bat I never could forgive myself if
I had forced my friend "—he turns and glares

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AN^ KXTRAORDINAKY

wamingly at Cummings, who makes a faint
pantomimeof conscientious protest as Bartiett
proceeds^" to hear anything more than the
mere fact from you. No, no,"— as General
Wyatt aeems ahoat to speak, — "it would be
atrocious in ma to seek to go behind it. 1
wish to know nothing more," Cummings
gives signs of exiaeme unrest at being made
a party to this tacit deception, and General
Wyatt, striking his palma hopelessly to-
gether, walks to the other end of the room.
Bartlatt touches the fallen camp-stool with
hia toot. "Cummings, will you he kind
enough to pat that on top of this other
rnbbiah?" He indicates his armful, and as
Cummings complies, he says in a, swift
fierce whisper; "Her secret is mine. It
you dare to hint that you 've told it to me,
ni — I'll assault you in your own pulpit."
Then to General Wyatt, who is returning
toward him; " Good- morning, sir."

General WyaU.~" Oh I Ah I Stop I That
is, don't go ! ReaJly, sir, I don't know what
to say. I must have seemed to you like a
madman a moment ago, and now I 're come
to play the fool. " Bartlett and Cummings
look their surprise, and General Wyatt
hurries on ; "I asked your friend to beg

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you to go away, and now I am here to beg
you to remaiiL It 's perfectly ridiculous, sir,
I know, and I can say nothing in defence of
the monstrous liberties I have taken. Sir,
the matter is simply this ; my daughter's
health is so frail that her life seems to hang
by a thread, and I am powerless to do any-
thing against her wish. It may he a culp-
able weakness, but I cannot help it. When
I went back to her from seeing your friend,
she immediately divined what my mission
had been, and it had the contrary effect from
what I had expected. Well, sir ! Nothing
would content her but that I should return
and ask you to stay. She looks upon it as
the sole reparation we can make you."

SartUU, gently. — " I mideratand that
perfectly ; and may I beg you to say that in
going away I thanked her with all my heart,
and ventured to leave her my best wishes!"
He bows as if to go.

General Wyall, detainmg him,— "Excuse
me— thanks — but — but I am afraid she will
not be satisfied ^ith that. She will be
satisfied with nothing less than your re-
maining. It is the whim of a sick child —
which I must aak you to indulge. In a few
days, sir, I hope we may be able to continue

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on our way. It would be simply unbearable
pain to her to know that wo had drivea you
away, and you must stay to show that you
have forgiven the wrong we have done you.'

BarUett. — ' ' That '3 nothing, leas than
nothing. But I was thinking— I don't care
for myself in the matter— that Miaa Wyatt
ia proposing a very unneceasacy annoyance
for you all. My friend can remain and assure
her that I have no feeling whatever about
the matter, and in the meantime I can re-
move — the embarraasment— of my preisence. "

General Wyatt. — "Sir, you are very con-
siderate, very kind. My own judgment is
in favour of your counee, and yet "^

Cumming», — " I think my friend ia right,
and that when he ia gone " —

General Wyatt.—" ^VeU, sir! well, sir!
It may be the best way. I think it is the
heat. We will venture upon it. Sir," — to
Bartlett, — " may I have the honour of taking
your hand T" Bartlett lays down his burden
on the piano, and gives hia hand. " Thank
you, thank you ! You will not regret thia
goodness. God blesa you 1 May you always
prosper!"

Bartlett. — "Good-bye; and aay to Miss
Wyatt" — At these worda he pauses, arrested

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W y tt f d t rng 1 t 1

C g8 t an-fi d t th pp nt i

"VI ^\y tt 1 m d tly ton I
himself wh Ih rath mgbhl

h h g gnal £ h Ipl I

despair wtbth IThy ggil

h , th k d broDz , haa b h p 1
hasty but benutiful maasea on her delicate
head ; as she stands with fallen eyes before
Bartlett, the heavy lashes lie dark on her pale
cheeks, and the bine of her eyes shows
through their trimsparent lids. She has a fan
with which she makes a weak pretence of
playing, and which she puts to her lips as if
t« hide the low murmur that escapes from
them as she raiees her eyos to Bartlett's face.

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Constance, Mks. Wyatt, and the others.

Constance, with a phantom-like effort at
hauteur.—" I hope you have been able to
forgive the annoyance we cauaed yoii, and
that yon won't let it drive you away." She
lifts her eyea with a slow effort, and starts
with a, little gasp as they fall upon his face,
and then remains trembling before him while
he apeaks.

Barilett, reverently. — "I am to do what-
ever you wish. 1 have no annoyance— "but
the fear that— that "—

ConsionM.inahusky whisper.— "Thanks!"
As she turns from him to go back to her
mother, she moves so frailly that he in-
voluntarily puts out his hand.

Mr», Wyatt, starting forward. — "NoV
But Constance clutches his extended arm.
with one of her pale hands, and staying her-
self for a moment lifts her eyes again to his.

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looks steadily at him with her face half
turned upon him, and theu, making a Blight,
sidelong inclination of the head, releases his
arm and goes to her mother, who supporta
her to one of the easy-chairs and kneels
beside her when she sinks into it. Bartlelrti,
after an instant of hesitation, bows silently
and withdraws, Cummings having already
vanished. Constance watohes him going,
and then hides her face on her mother's

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DISTINCTIONS AHD DIFFERENCES.

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Constance and Mrs. Wyatt.

C — And ho ia atill here ? He is

g mg to tay n mothert" She reelineB in

1 w f IJing h , and languidly rests her
hdgntn fthe pillows with which
1 m h h p jpped her ; on the bright

1 d h wl wh ch has been thrown over
h h h pal hands loosely holding her
h t f H n other stands half across
th pa 1 f m her, and wistfully surreys
h w 1. to 1 some touch may not yet

be added f th girl's comfort.

U IFy ( — Yes, my child. He will
stay. He told your father he would stay."

Congtanee. — ' ' That 's very kind of him.
He 's very good. "

Mt». Wyatt, seating heraelf before her
daughter.— " Do you really wish him to
stay ! Remember how weak you are, Con-

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stance. If you are taking anything npon
yourself out of a mistaken sense of duty, of
compunction, you are not kind to your poor
father or to me. Not that I mean to re-
proach you."

Constance.— " Oh, no. And I am not
unkind to you in the way you think. I "m
selfiah enough in wishing him to stay. I
can't help wanting to see him again and
again, — it 'a so strange, so strange. All this
past week, whenever I 've caught a glimpse
of him, it 'b heen like an apparition ; and
whenever he has spoken, it has been like a
^oat speaking. But I haven't been afraid
since the first time. No, there's been a
dreary comfort in it ; you won't understand
it ; I can't understand it myself ; but I
know now why people are glad to see their
dead in dreams. If the ghost went, there
would be nothing."

Mrs. Wyatt. — " Constance, you break my

ConstoKce.— -"Yes, I know it; it's because
I've none." She remains a little spaco
without apeaking, while she softly fingers
the edges of the fan lying in her lap. "I
suppose we shall become more acquainted,
if he stays 1 "

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Mrs. Wyalt.—"Wiiy, not neoeasarily,
dear. You need innw nothing more of him
than you do now. He seems very busy, and
not in tlie leaat inclined to intrude upon ue.
Your father thinks him a little odd, hut
very gentlemanly."

Constance, dreamily.—"! wonder what
lie would think if he knew that the man
■whom I would have given my life did not
find my love worth having ? I suppose it
teas worthless ; hut it seemed ao mnch in
the giving ; it waa that deceived me. He
waH wiser. Oh, me ! " After a silence ;
' ' Mother, why was I so different from other
girls?"

Mre. Wyatt. — " So different, Constance ?
You were only different in being lovelier and
better than others."

Camtaiice. — "Ah, that's the mistake!
If that were true, it could never have hap-
pened. Other girls, the poorest and plain-
est, are kept faith with ; hut I was left.
There must have been something about me
that made him despise me. Waa I silly,
mother ! Was I too hold, too glad to have
him care for me ! I was bo happy that I
couldn't help showing it. May be that dis-
pleased him. I must have been dull and

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tiresiomc. And I suppose I was somehow
repulsive, and at last be couldn't bear it any
longer and had to break with me. Did I
dress queerly ! I know I looked ridiculous
at times ; and people laughed at mo before

Mrs. Wyatt, — "Oh, Constance, Constance !
Can't you nudersland that it was his un.-
fforthineaa alone, his wicked heartlcssness ! "

Constance, with gentle slowness. — "No, I
can't understand that. It happened after
n e had learntd to know each other so well.
If he h'id been hckle, it would have hap-
pened long before that. It was something
odious in me that be didn't see at first. I
have thought it out It seems strange now
that people could ever have tolerated me."
Desolatelj "Well, they have their revenge."

Mrs. Wyatl. — -"Their revenge on you,
Constance! What harm did you ever do
them, my poor child ! Oh, jou mustn't let
these morbid fancies overcome you. Where
is our Constance that used to be, — our brave,
bright girl, that nothing conld daunt, and
nothing could sadden?"

OonsUtnce, sobbing. — "Dead, dead !"

Mrs, Wt/alt. — " I can't understand ! You
are bo young still, and with the world aU

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WSTtNUriONS AND DIFFCRENCES. 67

■before yon. Whywill yoa let one man'a baae-
nesa blacken it all, and blight your young
life BO ; Where is your pride, Con-
Btance?"

Constance. — "Pride? Wiat have I to do
with pride? A thing like me ! "

Mrs. Wyate — "Oli, child, you 're pitiless !
It seems as if you took a dreadful pleasure
in tarturing those who love you. "

CoTistance. — "YouVe aaid it, mother, I
do. I know now that I am. a. vampire, and
that it 's my hideous fate to prey upon thcHe
who are dearest to nte. He must have
known, he niuat have felt the vampire in

Mrs. ITyoti.— "Constancel"

Con^ance. — "But at least I can he kind to
those who care nothing for me. Who is this
stranger < He must be an odd kind of niaJi
to forgive us. What is he, mother? — if he is
anything m himself ; he seems to me only a
likeness, not a reality."

Mrs Wyail. — "He is a painter, yonr
father says," Mrs. Wyatt gives a quick
Bigh of relief, and makes haate to confirm the
direction of the talk away from Constance ;
"He is painting some landscapes here.
That friend of his who went to-day is a

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eousm of your father's old friend. Major
Cummings. He 's a ininiBter. "

Constance. — " What ia the painter's name?
Not that it matters. Bat I must call him
Boniething it I meet him again."

Mrs. If jioa,— " Mr. Bartlett."

Ooimtance, — "Oh yes, I forgot." Shefalia
into a brooding eilenee. "I wonder if lie
will despise me— if lie will be like in that
too!" Mrs. Wyatt aighs patiently. "Why
do you jniiid what I say, mother ? I 'm not
worth it. I must talk on, or else go mad
with the mystery of what haa been. We
were so happy ; he was so good to me, so
kind ; there waa nothing bat papa's not
seeming to like him ; and then suddenly, in
an instant, he tnnLS and strikes me down !
Yes, it was like a deadly blow. If you don't
let me believe that it was because he saw all
at once that I was utterly unworthy, I can't
believe in anything. "

Mrs. IfyaM.— "Hush, Constance; you
don't know what you 're saying."

Constance. — "Oh, I know too well ! And
now this stranger, who ia so like him — who
has all his looks, who has his walk, who has
his voice,— won't he have his insight too!
I had better show myself for what I am, at

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once — weak, stupid, selfiBh, false ; it 'U save
methepainof beingfouadout. Pain! Oh,
1 'm past hurting ! Wiy do you cry, mother?
I'm not worth yonr tears."

.1/rs. Wi/aU. — " Yon 're ^ the world to ns,
Constance ; you know it, child. Yonr poor
father " —

Conslaiice, — "Does papa really hke me?"

Mr$. Wf/ail. — " Conatance ! "

Cimsiaiice. — "No; but why Bhonld he?
He never liked Mm ; and sometimes I 've
wondered, if it wasn't papa's not liking him
that lirst set him against me. Of course, it
was best he should find me out, but still I
can't keep from thinking that if he had never
begiin to dislike me I I noticed from the
first that after papa had been with ua he was
cold and constrained. Mother, I had better
say it ; I don't believe I love papa as I ought.
There 'a something in my heart — some hard-
ness — against him when he 'b kindest to me.
If he had only been kinder to Mm " —

Mrs. WyatL—"'K\nAe,r to Mm? Con-
stance, you drive me wild I Kind to a wolf,
kind to a snake I Kind to the thief who has
robbed as of all that made onr lives dear ;
who stole your love, and then your hope,
your health, your joy, your pride, your

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70 A COUNTBaFMT PREaENTMENT.

peace ! And you think your father migiit
have been kinder to Aim' Constance, jou
were our Uttie girl when the war began, —
the last of brotherH and Sisters that had died.
You seemed given to our later yeara to con-
sole and comfort us for those that had been
taken ; and you were so bright and gay !
All through those dreadful days and montlis
and years you were our stay and hope, —
mine at home, his in the field. Oar letters
were full of you, — like young people's with
their first child ; all that you did and said I
had to tell Um, aad then he had to talk it
over in his answers back. Wlien he came
home at last after the peace — can you re-
member it, Constance 1"

Constance. — "I can remember a little girl
that ran down the street, and met an officer
on horseback. He waa all tanned and
weather-beaten ; he sat his horse at the head
of hia troop like a statue of bronze. When
he saw her come running, dancing down the
street, he leaped from his horse and caught
her in his arms, and hngged her close and
kissed her, and set her all crying and laugh-
ing in his saddle, and walked on beside her ;
and the men burst out with a wild yell, and
the ragged tiaga flapped over her, and the

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music fladied ut"— Sh ri "n 1 1 "
with the til nth 11 t h

comes free ud f 11 nd h pal h L
flnah; sudd tHy ah nk lack p tl
pillowB: "Waa t eally I m th

Mrs. Wn It— \ t was y u C

stance. And d j u m n b all tl f^h.
your Bchool d y h w p uJ nd f ai h
was of you ( w h t p ts and f t and
pleasures h was 1 y m king j u I
thought he w uld p 1 J h t L j
everywhere with him, and wanted to give
yon everything. When I saw you growing
up with hia pride and quick temper, I
trembled, but I felt safe when I saw that
you had his true and tender heart too. You
can never know what a pang it cost him to
part with you when we went abroad, bnt
you can't forget how he met you in Paris?"
Oon^amce. — "Oh, no, no i Poor papa!"
Mre. HVitt.— "Oh, child! And I could
tell you something o£ hifl bilHsr despair when

Cortstance, wearily. — "You needn't tell
me. I knew it as soon as they met, without
looking at either of them. "

Mre. WyaU. — " And when the worst that
he feared came true, he was almost glad, I

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72 I

believe. He ttought, and 1 thought, that
jour self-reepect would come to your aid
againat such treachery "

Conetaace. — ' ' Mj self -respect ! Now I
know yon 've not been talkmg of me. "

Mrs. WyaU, desperately. — "Oh, what
shtilt I do!"

Mary, the serving- woman, at the door. —
"If you please, Mrs. Wyatt, I can't open
Miss Constance's hat-box."

Mtb. ffjioK, rising, — "Oh, yes. There's
BOmething the matter with the lock. I'll
come, Mary. " She looks at Constance.

CoTtetanee. — "Yes, go, mother, I'm per-
fectly well here. I like being alone well
enough." As Mrs. Wyatt, after a moment's
reluctance, goes out, the prl'a heavy eyelids
fall, and she lies motionleaa against her
pillows, while the fan, released from her
careless hold, slides slowly over the shawl,
and drops with a light clash upon the floor.
She starts at the sound, and utters a little
involuntary cry at sight of Eartlett, who
stands irresolute in the doorway on her right.
He makes as if to retreat, but at a glance
from her he remains.

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D mWFERSSCBS.

Bartlett and Constance.

BarUett, with a sort of subdued gruffneaa.
— " I 'm afraid I disturbed yoii."

CoiiMance, passively. — "No, I tbink it
was my fan. It fell,"

Bartlett. — "I'm glad I can lay the blame
on the tan." He comes abruptly forward
and picks it up for bee. She makes no
motion to receive it, and he lays it on her

Constance, starting from the abstraction in
which she has been gaang at him. — "Oh!
thanks."

Bartltit, with constraint. — " I hope you 're
better this morning!"

Gonetante.—" Yes." She has again fallen
into a dreamy study of him, as unconscious,
apparently, as if he were a picture before
her, the effect of which is to reduce him to

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74 A COtTNTBRFBlT PaESEtTTMEST.

a state of iinniovable awkwardness. At last
he tears himself loose from the spot on which
he lias been petrifying, and takes refuge in
the business which lias hroaght him into tlie

BartifU. — " I came to look for one o£ my
bruahes. It must have dropped out of niy
traps here the other day." He goes up to
the piano snd looks about the floor, while
Constance's gaae follows him in every atti-
tude and movement. "Ah, here it is! I
knew it would escape the broom under the
landlady's relaxed regime. It you happen
to drop anything in this room. Miss Wyatt,
yon needn't be troubled ; you can always
find it just where it fell." Miss Wyatt's
fan again sUps to the floor, and Bartlett
again picks it up and restores it to her ; " A

Constance, blushing faintly.^"Bon't do
it for me. It isn't worth while."

SartUit, gravely. — "It doean't take a
great deal of time, and the ex ' 1 ro
good." Constance faintly smil b t d
not relajt her vigilance. "Is t th t 1 ght
rather strong for you ?" H to th

glass doors opening on the b 1 y a d
offers to draw down ohe of th had

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Gonntance. — "It doesn't make any dif-
ference. "

Sarthtt, bluffly.— "If it's disagreeable it
makes some difference. Is it diaagceeaWe ?"

Coii$taiKe.~"The light's strong "—Bart-
lett dashes the curtain down— "but I could
see the monntMn." He pulls the curtain
up.

BartUti. — ^"I beg your pardon." He
^ain fails into statue-like discomposure
under Miss Wyatt's gaze, which does not
seek the distant slopes of Poulcwasset, in
spite of the lifted curtain.

Conelance. — "What is the name! Do
you know?"

BartleU. — "Whose ? Oh I Ponkwasaet.
It's not a pretty name, but it's aboriginal.
And it doesn't hurt the mountain." Re-
covering a partial volition, he shows sigus
of a purpose to escape, when Miss Wyatt's
next question arrests him.

Conslance.^" Aie you painting it, Mr.—
Bartlett?"

BartleU, with a laugh.— "Oh no, I don't
soar BO high as mountains ; I only lift my
eyes to a tree here and there, and a bit of
pasture and a few of the lowlier and friendlier
sort of rocks." He now so far effects his

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purpoae as to transfer his unwieldy presence
to a lateral position as regards Mias Wyatt.
The girl mechanically turns her head upon
the pillow and again fixes her aa^ eyes
upon him.

ConstaiKK. — "Have you ever been up it?"
Bartlett. — "Yes, half a dozen times."
Conataace. — " Is it hard to climb — like the
Swiss mountains!"

Bartleil. — " You must speak for the Swiss
mountains after yoa've tried Ponkwasset,
Miss Wyatt. I 've never been abroad."

Constonce, her large eyes dilating with
surprise. — "Never been abroad?"
Bartlett. — "I enjoy that distinction."
OonstaiKe. — "Oh! I thought you had
been abroad." She speaks with a slow,
absent, earnest accent, regarding him, as
always, with a look of wistful bewilderment.
Bartlett, struggling uneasily for his habitual
lightness. — "I'm sorry to disappoint you.
Miss Wyatt. I will go abroad as soon as
possible. I 'm going out in a boat this
morning to work at a bit on the point of the
island yonder, and I '11 take leai-ons in sea
faring." Bartlett, managing at last to get
f^rly behind Miss Wyatt a chaii, indulges
himself in a long, low sigh of relief, and

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) DirjERENCES. 77

taking out his haiidkercliief rubs hia face

Conetance, with sadden, meek compunc-
tion. — "I've been detaming you."

Bardett, politely coming forward again. —
" Oh no, not at all ! I m afraid I 've tired

JTOM."

Gomtaace. — " No, I 'm glad to have you
stay." In the unconscious movement ne-
cessary to follow Bartlett in his changes of
poaition, the young girl has loosened one of
the pillows that prop her head. It slowly
disengages itself and drops to the floor.
Bartlett, who has been crushing hia brush
against the hall of his thumb, gives a start
of terror, and looks from Constance to tlie
pillow, and back again to Constance in
despair.

Cwtalance. — " Never mind." She tries to
adjust her head to the remaining pillows,
and then deaista in evident discomfort.

Barlleil, in great agony of spirit. — "I —
I 'm afraid you mias it."

Constance. — " Oh no."

Bartlett. — " Shall I call your mother. Miss
Wyatt?"

Constance. — "No. Oh no. She will be
here preaently. Thank you ao ninth

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Bartlett eyea the pillow in renewed des-
peration.

Bartletf, — "Do you think — do you suppose
I could" — Kecklesaly; "Misa Wyatt, let
Die put back that pillow for you !"

Gon^ance, promptly, with a little flush ; —
" Why, you 're very good I I 'm ashamed to
trouble you." As she speaks, she raiaes her
head, and lifts herself forward slightly by
help of the chair-anns ; two more pillows
topple out, one on either side, unknown to

Bartlelt, maddened by the fresh disaster : —
"Good Lord!" He flings himself wildly
upon the first pillow, and crams it into the
chair behind Mias Wyatt ; then without
giving his courage time to Sag, he seizes the
others, and packs them in on top of it ;
"Will that doT" He stands hot and
flushed, looking down upon her, as she
makes a gentle attempt to adjust herself to
the mass.

Constance. — "Oh, perfectly," She puta
her hand behind her and feebly endeavours
to modify Bartlett'a arrangement.

BaHldt.—" What is it !"

Comtance. — " Oh — nothing. Ah — would
— would you draw this one a little — toward

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iiirrERENOBS. 79

you ? So ! Thanks. And that one — out a
little on the — other side ? You 're Tery
kind ; that 'a right. And this one under my
neck — lift Jt up a little f Ah, thank you
ever bo much." Bartlett, in a fine frenzy,
obeying these instructions, Miss Wyatt at
last reposes herself against the pillows, looks
up into his emharrasaed face and deeply
bl h tl htm d1 I whte and
weakl at h ng pi fan h pas t
on tw bof h fa and It t

tall I m i ttl ~f t Eartl tt s
th tan and fte n m t t sil nt If
ded at nk Id wnbe d h hajr I

C teta afte a m nt — Tl ank
thk "i a rygadin bette

now I a h m d to ha t >1 d j
But 1 8opm to li\e only to give trouble.

Barllett, with audden deep tendeniess : —
"Oh, Miss Wyatt, yoa mustn't say that.
1 'm sure I — we all— that is— shall I call your
mother now, Miaa Wyatt?"

Cortitaiice, after a deep breath, firmly : —
" No. I 'm quite well, now. She is fcasy.
But 1 know I'm keeping you from your
work," — with ever so slight a wan little
smile. "I mnstn't do that."

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ConMance. — ■" Then," — with a glance at hia
devout posture, of which Bartlett has himself
become quite unconaoious, — "won't you ait
down, Mr. Bartlett?"

Ba/rtiett, restored to consciousnesB and
confusion: — "Thanks; I think it will be
batter," He risea,«id in hia embarrassment"
draws a chair to the spot on which he has
been kneeling, and sits down very close to
her. He keeps the fan in his hand, as he
talks: "It's rather nice out there. Miss
Wyatt,— there on the island. You must be
rowed out as soon as you can stand it. The
General would like it."

Cimeiance.— "lB it a large place, the
island ?"

Barlldt. — "Aho'it two acres, devoted
exclusively to golden-rod and granite. The
fact is, I was going to malse a little study of
golden-rod and granite, there. You shall
visit the Fortunate Isle in ray sketch, this
afternoon, and aee whether you 'd like to go.
really. People camp out there in the
Hummer, Who knows, but if you keep on
— gaining — this way, you may yet feel like

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camping ont there yourself before you go
away? You do begiu to feel better, don't
you ! Everybody criea up this air. "

Confltance.^' ' It 's very pleasant ; it seems
fine and pare. Is the island a p tty place

Barfkll, glancing out at t h s

shoulder:— "Well, you get th b t f t
from the parlour window, her h t that
it 's BO bad when you 're on t th a

Burly, frugal, hard-headed ki d f b auty
about it,^ — ^like the local huniiin nat — and
't has its ■ dvantages. It you w amp g

t tl you could ahnoat pr n y

self f m the fish and wild f I f tl
uiro d g waters, ^supposing any f j ur
p rty hk d to fish or shoot. Does your
f tl Ilk shoolang?"

C I e.— "No, I don't believe he cares
for It.

SartleU.—" I'm glad of that. I shall be
spared the piunf ul hospitality of pointing out
the best places for ducks." At an inquiring
look from Constance: "I'm glad for their
Bakes, not mine ; /don't want to kill them."

Constance, with grave mistrust :—' ' Not
like shooting ! "

Bariktl. — "No, I think it's tha sneak-
ingest sort of assassination ; it 's the pleasure

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of (1 th t th

k U y ght t b

so tlimg tl t y 11
D y nad th ae
Ml Wy trt I
e t ly mj w

C 1st hlanklj —

— I nas tiiGliiQg — I

Bartktl, laughing uneasily. — "How did
you get that impression ? "

Constance, evasively. — " I thought all
gentlemen did."

B(trifcM.^"They do in this repon. It'a
the only thing that can comfort them in
affliction. The other day our ostler'a brother
lost his sweetheart— she died, poor giri — and
the oatler and another friend had him over
here to cheer him ap. They took him to the
stable, and whittled round among the stalls
with him half the forenoon, and let him mb
down some of the horaes ; they stood him out
among the vegetables and let him gather
gome of the new kind of potato-hugs ; they
made him sit in the olBce with his feet on
top of the stove ; they played billiards with
him ; but he showed no signs of resignation
till they borrowed three aquirrel-guns and

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DITFBRENCES. 83

started with him to the oak woods yonder.
That seemed to ' fetch ' him. You ehould
have seen them trudging off together with
their guns all aslatit,^ — this way, — the
stricken lover in the middle!" Bartlett
rises to illustrate, and then at the deepening
solemnity o£ Constance's face he desists in
sudden dismay ; ' ' Miss Wyatt, I 've shocked
you I"

CotiBtance. — "Oh, no — no !"

Barl^U. — "It iBaa shocking. I wonder
how I could do jt ! I — I thought it would
amnse you. "

Constance, mourafully. — " It did, thank
you, very much." After a pause ; " I didn't
know you liked — joking. "

BaHldl.—" Ah ! I don't loelieve 1 do— all
kinds. Good Lord— I beg your pardon."
Bartlett turns away with an air of guilty
consciousness, and goes to the window and
looks ont^ Constance's gaze following him ;
"It's a wonderful day !" He comes back
toward her ; "What a pity you couldn't be
carried there in your chair !"

Constonee.— "I'm not equal to that yet."
Presently : " Then you — like — nature?"

Bartlett.—" Why, that's mere shop in a
landscape paint«r. I get my bread and

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butter by her. At least I ought to have
some feeling of gratitade. "

Gon^anee, hastily. — "Of course, of courae.
It 's very atupid of me, aaking. "

Bartktt, with the desperate iuteiition of
grappling with the situation,— "! see you
h^ve a, passion for formulating, classifying
people, Misa Wyatt, That's all very well,
if one's characteristics were not so very
characteristic of everybody else. Bat I
generally find in my moments of seK-con-
sciousnesa, when I 've gone round priding
myself that such and such traits are my
peeuliaj" property, that the first man I meet
has them all and sa mauy more, and iau't
the least proud of them. I dare aay you
don't see anything very atraage in them, ao
far."

Constance, musingly. — "Oh, yes; very
strange indeed. They 're all— wrong ! "

BartleW.— "Weill. I don't know—I'm
very sorry.— Then you consider it wrong
not to like shooting and to be fond of joking
and nature, and" —

Conaiance, bewilderedly. — "Wrong? Oh

Sartkti.— "Oh, I 'm glad to hear it. But
you just said it was."

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DISTINCTIONS A

Constance, slowly recalling herself, with a
painful blush, at last— " I meant — I meant
I didn't expect any of those things of yoa. "

Barileil, with a smile. — " Well, on reflec-
tion, I don't know that I did, either, I
think they must have come without being
expected. Upon my word, I'm tempted to
propose something very ridiealouH."

Constance, uneasily.^" Yes? What ia
that?"

Bartlelt.—"That you'U let me try to
gueaa you out. I Va failed so miserably in
my own ease, that I feel quite encouraged. "

Oonataiice, morbidly. — "I'm not worth
the trouble of guessing out. "

Bartktt.—"ThB.t means no. You always
mean no by yes, because you can't bear to
say no. That is the mark of a very deep
and darkling nature. I feel that I «o»M go
on and read your mind perfectly, but I 'm
afraid to do it. Let 's get back to myself.
I can't allow that yon 've failed to read my
toind aright ; I think you were careless
ftbont it. Will you give your intuitions one
more chance !"

Constance, with an anxious amile. — "Oh
yes."

Bttrttett,— "All those traits and tastes

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which we both find so unexpeeteii in me are
minor matters at the moat. The great teat
question remains. If you answer it rightly,
you pcovo yourself a mind-reader of wonder-
ful power ; if you mies it — The question
is simply this ; Do 1 like smoking!"

Oonslaace, instantly, with a quick, in-
voluntary pressure of her handkerchief to
her delicate nostrils. — "Oh, yea, indeed !"

BartUtt, daunted and reddening, — " Mies
Wyatt, you have been deluding me. You
are really a miud-reader of great subtlety."

Constance.—"!, don't know — I cant say
that it waa raind -reading exactly." She lifts
her eyes to Ids, and in his embarrassntent
he passes his hand over hia forehead and
then feels first in one pocket, and then in the
other for his handkerchief ; suddenly he
twitches it forth, and with it & pipe, half a
dozen cigars, and a pouch of smoking tobacco,
which fly in different directions over the
floor. As he stoops in dismay and sweeps
together these treasures, she cries ! *' Oh, it
didn't need all Ihat to prove it 1" and breaks
into a wild, helpless laugh, and striving to
recover herself with many litlle moans and
sighs behind her handkerchief, laughs on
ivnd on : " Oh, don't 1 I oughtn't 1 Oh dear,

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oh dear ! " WTien at last she lies spent with
her reluctant mirth, and uncovers her face,
Bartlett is gone, Mid it ia her mother who
stands over her, looking down at her with
affectionate mis^ving.

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Mrs. Wyatt and Constance.

Mrs, WyaU. — "Laughing, Constance?"

Conatanee, with a buret of indignant tears.
—"Yea, yes 1 Isn't it shoclting? It's
horrible ! He nia,de me."

Mrs. IFya([. — "He?"

OoniSancf, beginning to laugh again. — •
"Mr. Bartlett; he's been here. Oh, I
viieh I tBOnldii't be so eilly ! "

Mrs. TTbcKS. — " Made yoa ! How could
he make you laagh, poor child ? "

Coitslajice. — "Oh, it's a long story. It
was all through my bewilderment at his
resemblance. It confused me. I kept
thinking it was he, — as if it were some
dream, — and whenever this one mentioned
some trait of his that totally differed from
Mb, don't jou know, I got more and more
confused, and — mamma !"^ with sudden
desoJation — "I know he knows aJl about
it I"

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Mrs. Wyatl. — "! am sure lie doesn't.
Mr. CummingH only told him that his resem-
blance was a, painful association. He assured
your father of this, and wouldn't hear a
word more. I 'm certain you 're wrong.
But what made you think he knows ?"

Constance, solcmDly.— " He behaved just
aa if he didn't. "

Mrs. Wyatl. — " Ah, you can't judge from
that, my dear." Impressively: "Men are
very different. "

Ctmatance, doubtfully. — "Do you think

Mrs. Wyatt.—" Vm certmi o( it."

ConslajKe, after a pause. — " Mamma, will
yon help take this shawl off my feet ? I am
so warm. I think I should . like to walk
about a little. Can you see the island from
the gallery!"

Mrs. Wyatl. — "Do yon think you'd
better try to leave your chair, Constance?"

Constance. — " Yes, I 'm stronger this
morning. And I shall never gain, lounging
aboat this way." She begins to loose the
wraps from her feet, and Mrs. Wyatt com-
ing doubtfully to her aid she is presently
freed. She walks briskly towards the sofa,
and sits down quite erectly in the comer of

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it, "Thtce! that's pieasanter. 1 get Sf> ■
tired of being a burden," She ia silent, and
then she begins softly and wearily to laugh
again.

Mri. Wyatt, smiling ouriously. — " What
is it, Constance 7 I don 't at all understand
what made you laugh."

Constance.^-" Why, don't you know ?
Several times after I had been surprised
that he didn't like this thing, and hadn't
that habit and the other, he noticed it, and
pretended that it was an attempt at mind-
reading, and then all at ojice he turned and
said I must try once more, and he asked,
' Do I like smoking ! ' and I said instantly,
'Oh, yes!' Why, it was like having a
whole tobacconist's shop in the same room
with you from the moment he came in ; and
of course he understood what I meant, and
blushed, and then felt for bis handkerchief,
and pulled it out, and discharged a perfect
volley of pipes and tobacco, that seemed to
be tangled up in it, all over the floor, and
then I began to laugh— so silly, so disgust-
ingi so perfectly Sat ! aud I thought I should
die, it was so ridiculous 1 and — Oh, dear,
I 'ra beginning again ! " She hides her face
in her handkerchief aud leans her head on

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MSTINCTIONS AND DIPFERENCES. 91

the back of the sofa ; "Say something, do
something to stop me, mother!" She
stretches an imploring left hand toward the
elder lady, who still remains apparently hut
half convineed of any reason for mirth, when
General Wyatt, haatUy entering, pauses in
abrupt irresolution at the speetacle of
Constance's passion.

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Corvftanee. — " Oh, lia, ha, ha i Oli, ha, ha,
ha, ha I "

Gsner(iflF;/oM. — " Margaret I Constance!"
At tJie Eound of his voice, Conetance starts
up with a little cry, and stiffens into an
attitude of ungracious silence, without look-
ing at her father, who turns with an expres-
sion of pain toward her mother.

Mrs. WytUt. — ^"Yes, Jaroes. We were
laughing at something Constance had heen
telling me about Mr. Bartlett. Tell your
father, Constance."

Constance, coldly, while she drawa throngli
her hand the handkerchief which she has
been pressing to her eyes. — " I don't think
it would amuse papa. " She glasses her hand
across her lap, and does not lift her heavy
eye-lashea.

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Mrs. Wyatt, caresBuigly.-

-■'Oh, yes, it

■onld; I'm sure it would."

Coaetance. — " Yoa can

tell it then,

Jfra. Wyait. — " No ; you, my dear. You
tell it BO funnily ; ajid " — in. a. lower tone
— " it '3 so long since your father heart! you

Constancy.. — " There was notliing funny
in it. It was disgusting. I was laughing

Mt3. Wyatt. — " Why, Constance " —
Geaeral Wyatt. — "Never mind, Margaa^t.
Another time ■will do." He chooses to
ignore the coldness of Ms daughter's bearing
toward himself . "I came to see if Constance
were not strong enough to go out on the
lake this morning. The boats are very good,
and the air is so fine that I think she 11 be
the better for it. Mr. Bartlett is going out
to the island to sketch, and "—
Oomlance. — " I don't care to go."
Mrs. Wyatt. — " Do go, my daughter ! I
know it will do you good."

CoTielajKe. — " I am not strong enough."
Mt$. Wyatt.,— " 'Bni yon said you were
better, just now ; and you should yield to
to your father's judgment. "

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Coiiala/ttce. — "I will do whatever papa

General Wyatt. — " I don't bid you.
Margaret, I tliinfc I -will go out with Mr.
BarUett. We will be back at dinner," Be
turns and leaves the room without looking
again at Constance.

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iiiSTiNcnoNS i

Constance and Mrs. Wyatt ; then
Bartlett.

Mrs. Wyatt.^' ' Oh, Constance ! How-
can yon treat your father so coldly ! You
will suffer some day for the pain yon give

CoMStoXM.— "Saffer! No, I'm past that
I've exhausted my power of suffering."

Mrs. Wyall. — "You haven't exhausted
yoar power of making others suffer."

ConatixiKe, crouching liatleBBly down upon
the a>fa. — " I told you that I lived only
to give pain. But it 's my fate, not my will.
Nothing but that can excuse me."

Mr«. Wyatt, wringing her hands. — " Oh,
oh ! Well, then, give rue pain if you must
torment somebody. But spare your father,
— spare the heart that loves you so tenderly,
you unhappy girl."

Cowitaiice, with hardness. — " Whenever I

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see papa, mv brat thought la, If he had not
been so harah and severe, it miyht never
have happened ' Whit can I tare for his
loving me when he hated hintf Oh, / will
do my dut J , mother , / will obej , I have
obeyed, and I know how Papa can't
demand anything of me noio that lan't easy.
I have forgiien everythmg, and if you give
me time I can forget. I have forgotten. I
have been laughing at eomething so foolish,
it ought to make me cry for shame. "

Mrs. H'y(i((.^"Conatance, you try me
beyond all endurance ! You talk of for-
giving, you talk of forgetting, you talk of
that wretch ! Forgive him, forget Aim, if
you can. If he had been half a man, if he
had ever cared a tithe as much for you as for
himself, all the hate of all the fathers in the
world could not have driven him from you.
You talk of obeying " —

Mary, the serving woman, flying into the
room.—" Oh, please, Mrs. Wyatt ! There
are four man carrying somebody up the hill.
And General Wyatt just went down, and I
can't see him anywhere, and " —

Mrs. Wyatt. — " You 're crazy, Mary! He
hasn't been gone a moment; there isn't
time i it can't be he ! " Mrs. Wyatt ruahes

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D CT AND DIPFERESCeS. 97

to h g ry overlooka the road to

ven y h h pe ar, and then out of one
of h d he corridor, while Con-

atance springs frantically to her feet and runs
toward the other door.

Constance, — "Oh, yes, yea! It's papa!
It's my dear, good, kind papa ! He 's dead ;
he's drowned; I drove him away; I mur-
dered him ! Ah-h-h-h ! " She shrinks back
with a shriek at sight of Bartlett, whose
excited face appears at the door, — " Go ! It
was yon, yoa who made me hate my father !
You made me kill him, and now I abhor
you ! I "—

BaHlett.--" Wait \ Hold on! "What is
it aJl?"

Constance. — "Oh, forgive me! I didn't
mean^I didn't know it was you, sir! But
where is he? Oh, take me to him t Is he
dead?" She seizes his arm, and clings to it
tremhling.

Bartlett. — "Dead? No, he ian't dead.
Ho was knocked over hy a team coming
behind him down the hiU, and was slightly
bruised. There 'a no cause for alarm. He
sent me to teli you ; they Ve carried him to

Conalance. — "Oh, thavik HeavenI" She

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bowB her head with a aob, npon his shoulder,
and then lifts her tearful ejea to his : "Help
me to get to him! I am weat." She
tottera and Bartlett mechanically passes a
supporting arm about her, "Help me, and
don't — don't leave me!" She moves with
him a few pacea toward the door, hev head
drooping ; but aJl at once ehe raises her face
again, stares at him, stiffly releases herself,
and with a long look of reproach walks
proudly away to the other door, by which
she vanishes without a word.

Bartlett, remaining planted, with » be-
wildered glance at his empty arm : "Well,
I wonder who and what and where I am ! "

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DISf^OLVING VIEWS,

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Genbkai Wyatt and Mrs. Wvatt.

In tlie pa,rlour stands an easel with a canvas
of inUFdiiia.te dimensioue upou it, and near
this a small table, with a freah box of colours
in tubes, and a holiday outfit of new brushes,
pallet, and other artist's materials, evidently
not the p perty t Ba -tl tt A -oss the
room fr n th app at tret hed Con-

stance's eaaj 1 t w rd wh h General

Wyatt, bean g so aik f h s recent

accident a band t wn t and a, stiff teg,
stumps 1 ly p[ t ^ by M Wyatt.
Beside th haj ib th t t ble of the

parlour, on which aie an open box of cigars,
and a, pile of unopened newspapers

General Wyatt, droppmg into the chair
with a, groau.— "Well, my dear' I feel
uncommonly ashamed of myaelt, taking
Constance's chair m this maimei Though
there 'a a; great consolation in thinking she

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102

doean't need it any longer." Settling him-
self more comfortably in the chair, and laying
his stick across hia knees : " Margaret, I
begin to be very happy about Constance.
I haveut had so light a heart for many a,
long day. The last month haa made a
wonderful change in her. She is almoat like
her old self again. "

Mrs. ir^aW, sighing. — "Yea, it seems almost
too good to be tme. I don't know (juite
what to make of it. Sometimes, I almost
fear for her mind. I 'm sure that half the
time she forgets that Mr. Bartlett isn't that
wretch, and I can see her awake with a start
to the reality every little while, and then
wilfully lull her consoiousnesa to sleep again.
He 'a terribly like, I can hardly keep from
crying out at times ; and yeaterday I did give
way: I was so ashamed, and he looked noJmrt.
I see Constance restrain herself often, and I
dare say there are times that we don't know
of when she doean't."

Oeaeral HVW,— "Well, all that may be.
But it's a thing that will right itself in time.
We must do our best not to worry him.
This painter ia a iine fellow, my dear. I
took a great fancy to him at the beginning.
I liked him from the moment I saw him."

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EV,-3. 103

Mrs. Wyait. — " James 1 You were going
to strike him with your cane."

General Wgatt.—" That waa before I Ban-
Iiha. I was going to strike the other one.
But that's neither here nor there. We
maat be careful not to hurt his feelings ;
that 'b all. We 've got our Constance back
again, Margaret. Impossible as it seems,
we have got her back by his help. Isn't it
wonderful to Hce tliat killing weight lifted
from her young life? It's like a miracle."

Mrs. Wyalt. — ' ' It isn't lifted alt the time.

General Wyatt. — " No matter—no matter.
It isn't crushing her all the time either.
I 'm glad for what relief there is, and I feel
that all is going well. Do you hear that
step, Margaret ! Listen ! That 'a like the old
bounding trea^i of our little girl. Where
is the leaden-footed phantom that used to
drag along that hall ? Is she coming this

Qeneral Wyad. — "Not yet. He was to
come when he got back from hia sketching.
What a good fellow, to take so much trouble

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104

for Constance's

commonly kind o£ Mr. Bartlett, Margaret,

offering to give her these lessons. "

Mrs. F^a^.— "Yes, itworrieame."

OeaeralWyaM, — "Why in tte world ihould
it wony yon, Margaret'

Mrs. Wyatt. — "You cant offer him any
compensation for his mstructions

General Wyatt.—" Of conrse not That
would bo offensive. Well'

Mrs. WyaM. — "Well James cui t you
see how it complicates eierythin^' He is
conferring another obligation He might
almost think we tried to throw them to
gether. "

Oen^ral WyoU, fiercely — He hoA better
not 1 Why, Margaret he a ■> gentleman I
He can't think that."

Mrs. Wyatt. — "No I suppose not I
suppose it 'a our trouble thtt has made me
Buspioioua of every one She gies sally
abont the room, rearrangm^ vith a house
keeper's instinct, everything in it.

Gen&ral Wyatt. — "You needn't trouble
yourself with the room, Margaret ; Mary
told me that she and the landlady had put
it in order. "

Mrs. Wyatt. — " That's just why I need."

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wa. 105

After a moment ; ' ' Are yovi going to be
here, James!"

Oeneral Wy<iil. — "Yes, I thought I should
etay. It's a cheerful place to I'cad and
smoke. It won't disturb them, will it?"

Mrs. Wyati. — "Oh,nol It 'a quite neees-
sary some one should stay. I 'm very glad
you can, for I've got a few little things
to do."

G^eral Wyati. — "All right. I'll stay
and do tlie dragon, or whatever it is. But
I wish you hadn't put it in that light,
Margaret. I was proposing to enjoy myself . "

Mrs. WyoM,—"' Enjoy yourself, James?
With such a terribly perplexing affair before
you ! "

General Wyatt. — "I don't see anything
perplexing about it. It 'b perfectly simple,
to my mind. Mr, Bartlett kindly proposes
to give Constance a few lessons in drawing,
— or pwnting ; I don't know which it is.
That's the beginning and the end of it."

Mrs. WgaU, with a heavy Bigh.^"Ye9,
that 's the begimtmg."

General W^M, impatiently. — "Well?"

Mrs. Wyati. — " Nothing. Are you quite
comfortable, here? Have you got evcTy-
thiug you wish? "

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General Wyall, with a glance at the things
on the table at his elbow. — " Here are tny
cigars, and — yes, here are the papers. Yes,
I 'm all right. But what do you mean by
'nothing'? What — Ah, here '9 Mr. Bartlett ! "
As Bartlett cornea into the room, the
General, since he cannot conveniently rise,
makes a demonstration of welcome with his
hands. Bartlett has his colour-box under
his arm, and a canvas in his hand. ' ' You 've
been improving the shining hour, I see.
What have yon there ! "

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Babtlett, Oeseeal Wvatt, aJid
Mrs. WrATT.

Barilett, with a smilo and nod inclusive of
Mrs. Wyatrt. — "Nothing worth looking at."
He goes and faces it againat the wall.
" Have I kept Miss Wyatt waiting ? "

Mrs. Wyalt, anxiously.^" It 'a too bad
you should waste yonr time upon her, Mr.
Bartlett. I don't know why we let you."

BortfeM,— " You can't help yourself , Mrs.
Wyatt. The wrong is owing to circmnstancea
beyond your control. If I have any virtue
it is A particularly offensive form of stuhbom-
nesa. Besides, "^more seriously, — "I feel
myself honoured to do it — to contribate any-
thing to Miss Wyatt's — ah — ah — In short, if
she can stand it I can. "

General WjaM.— "It's immensely kind of
you. By the way, you won't mind my
staying here, will you, to read my papers,
while you 're at work ! Because if you do, I

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can dear out at once," Mrs. Wyatt, with
mute but lively tokens of dismay, a,tteniis
the General's further remarks; "I don't
want to stay here and be a bove and a
nuisance, you know." Mrs, Wyatt vanishes
from the scene in final despair.

Sartktt, going up to the easel and dragging
it into an entirely new positiou.—" Not in
the least Some woman been putting this
room in order, hasn't there ? "

General Wyatt. — "Three."

BarikU. — "I thought so," He continues
to disarrange all the preparations for his
work. His operations bring him in the
vicinity of General Wyatt, npon whose box
of cigars his eye falls. ' ' Oh, I say, Genera! 1
Smoking?"

Oeaerai Wyatl. — "Certainly. Why not!"

BartUtt. — "Well, I don't know. I thought
perhaps — I supposed — I imagined somehow
from something she said, or that happened —
it was offensive to Miss Wyatt. "

fSeaeral Wyatt. — " Why, bless your heart,
man, she minds it no more than I do ! "

Bari/eM. — "You don't say so! Why, I
haven't smoked any for the last two weeks,
because — because — And I 'm almost dead
for a pipe ! "

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General ITjfai!.— " Why, p f 11

Why, here ! Take a cigar ! "

Barthit, significantly shaking his 1 ead —
"Oh, no, no! I aaid a, ^pe. H h
to an old atndio jacket which th Ian 11 dy
Iiaa hnng for him on the hack oi \ I

dives in one pocket and gets t p p
plunges into another and extracts a pouch of
tobacco. He softly groana and murmurs
with impatience while he makes these ex-
plorations. Upon their success ; "So lucky
Mrs. Hanaom brought down that coat. I
couldn't have lived to get up-staira after it ! "
Stuffing Ms pipe in a frenzy, he runs to the
General for ft match ; that veteran has already
lighted it, and extends it toward him. Bart-
lett stoops over the flame, pipe in mouth. As
the General drops the extinct match upon
the &oor the painter pufia a gfeat cloud, in
which involved he is putting on hia studio
jacket when Constance appears at the door.
He instinctively snatches his pipe from his
lips and puts it in hia pocket.

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CoHSTAHCE, Baktlbit, and
Generjo. Wyatt.

Constance, iighting her way through the
Bmoketc the General's chdir.— " Why, papa,
how yon have bean smoking 1 "

Oemral Wyatt, withaqae&rlook. — "Yea, I
find it rests me after a, bad night. I didn't
sleep well."

Constance. — "Oh, poor papal How do
you do, Mr. Bartlett ?" She gives him her
hand for good-morning.

BarUett.^" Oh, quite well, quite well
now, thank you. I— I —had been a little off
my — diet."

Constance. — "Oh !"

Bartlett. — "Yes. But I've gone back
nww, and I 'mall right again." He retires
to the easel, and mechanically resumes his
pipe, but takes it from his mouth again, and
aiter an impatient glance at it, throws it out

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xs. Ill

of thewindow. "When you 're ready, Miss
Wyatt, we can begin any time. There's no
hurry, thongh."

Conatance. — "I'm ready now. Is every-
thing in reach, papa !"

General Fj/afl.— "Yea, my dear. I'm so
perfectly comfortable that one touch more
wonld make me miscrabls. "

Constance.—" Cant I do something for
you ? "

General ir^(-^"Not a thing. I'm a
prodigy of content."

Constance. — " Not lift up this last fold of
the chair, bo your foot won't rest so heavily
on the floor?"

General Wyatt. — "Was it resting heavily?
I hadn't noticed. Yea, it was ; how you aee
everything, my dear! Yes" — Constance
stoops to put np the chair to its last exten-
sion, and Bartlett runs forward to anticipate
her.

SarfZeK.— "Miss Wyatt, let me do that!"

Constance. — " Ho, no ! No one must touch
papa hot me. There, is that right, papa!"

General Wyatt. — " Exactly. That makes
me pluperfectly comfortable. I haven't a
wish in the world, and all I ask now is

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112

Coiislanfe. — "Get at your newspapers?
Let me take off the wrappers for you. "

General Wyati. — -"Not on any aeoount,"
He gently withdraws from her the newspaper
she has taken up. " That is truly a, kindness
that kills. Open my papers £or me ? I 'd as
lief you'd put on my hat for me, my dear,"

Bartlett.—" That's the one thing that can't
be done for any man ! "

Conslance. — "Why not? A woman can
put on another woman's bonnet for her,"

GencTal Wyatt. — "Ah, that's a different
thing. A man doesn't wear hia hat for

Consfaiice.— "That's true, papa, — sonwof
them." She turns gaily from her father,
and lookfl up at Bartlett, who has smilingly
listened. She gives a start, and suppresses
a cry ; she passes her hand quickly over her
eyes, and then staying herself a moment
with one hand on the back of a chair resumes
with forced calm : "Shall we begin, now—
ah — Mr. — Bartlett?" An awkward silence
ensues, in which Bartlett remains frowning,
and the General impatieutly flings open a
newspaper. Then Bartlett's frown relaxes
into a compassionate response to her appeal-
ing look.

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ws. 113

Bartlelt. — " Yes, I'm quite ready. But
it 's you who are to begin. Miss Wyatt. I
am to a:S3ume the safe and eligible poeition
of art critic. I wish I had some of those
fellows who write about my pictures before
an'eaael ; I 'd stand their unpleasajit company
a while for the sake of taking the conceit
out of them. Not but what my pictures
are bad enough, — as bad as a t aaya

for that matter. Well, Miss Wjatt here
is the charcoal, and yonder out loors is tl e

Comlance. — "Excuse meanomfnt Papa,
will our talking disturb you ? To Bh tlett
"I suppose we will have to talk a little'

SarWeM.—" A little,"

Gemral Wyatt, from behind hia paper.^
"It won't disturb me if you don't talk to

Ciwwtonce.— "We'Utrynot." ToBartlett:
"Well!"

BaTtleU, as Constance places herself before
the canvas, and receiving the charcoal from
his fingers, glances out at Ponkwasset. —
"May I ask why you chose such a capacious

Ctonstonce, in meek surprise. — " Why, the
mouutain being a large object " — ■

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114

Barlktt. — " A large oanvaa was neceaaary.
I Bee, There 'h reason in that. But were
you going to do it life siae ! "

Ctraatancf, as before.^" Why, no ! "

Barthtt. — " What was your idea, ? "

Conetaace.—" I don't know. I thought —
1 thought I woTild have the mountain in the
hacli-ground, with some clouds over it, and
a few figures in the foreground, to give it a
human interest. "

BartUtt.— -"Yea, that's a g d n t
Well, now begin. First get yo di t. n —
No; better strike in a horizo li first
That will keep you right. Draw th I
straight across the middle of th an as
Constance retires a few steps from th an as
measures its spaces with her ey a d th n
with a glance at the hor a t d
draws. Bartlett, looking over h I Id
"Straight, straight! The line should bo
straight. Don't yon see?"

OonMance, falteringly. — "I meant that
for a str^ght line,"

BartMt.—"Oh\ well! Yea! I see. How-
ever, now you 've got it in, hadn't you better
use it for a curved line! Say for that
wavering outline of the hilla beyond Ponk-
WBMiet ; "

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rt-s, 115

Constance. — "Why, if you thiuk ho, Mr.
Bartlett."

BarUelt.—" Andi 111 jnst strike in the
horizon line here." Hk draws rapidly, eteps
back Sj paee, approaches, and touches Con-
stance's line at different points. Then he
givBS her the chalk again. " Now, scratch
in the outiine of Ponkwasset." Cooslance
begins to draw. "Ah! Wait a moment,
please. You're not quite getting it. Will
you let me ? " Constance offers him the
charcoal, which he declines with a gesture,
"No, no I Foil must do it, I meant "^

GonsiaiKe. — " What ? "

Bartlett. — "That if you would allow me
to — to — guide your hand "—

Constance, frankly. — "Why, of course.
Do what you like with it "^

BarUett.— "Oh 1"

Cmiitanee. — "So that you teach it a little
of the skill of yours." He gently, and after
some delicate hesitations, takes her hand,
as it grasps the charcoal, and slowly guides
it in forming the outline of the monutain.
Constance, in admiration of his cleverness :
" What a delicious touch you have ! "

BaTttett, confusedly. — "Yes!"

Constance, regarding the outline after he

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116

has released her hand, while Bartlett, with a,
gesture of rapturous foiidneaa, looks nt the
fingers that have guiilcd hera, and tenderly
kisses them. — " Oh, yes ; I'd give anything
if I had your hand !"

Bartlett, — "It's at yonr service always,
MisaWyatt."

Constance, still regarding the picture.—
"Ah, hut I shoald need your mind, tool"

JttrtZeM.— "Well?"

C'ojietance.—" 1 couldn't rob you of every-
thing. " She hegina to draw again, and then,
in pretty, unconscious imitation of Bartlett,
throws hack her head.

Bartlett, hreaking forth in rapture at her
movement and attitude. — "Oh, divine!"

Coaitanw, innocently heaming upon him.
— "Do you think so! I didn't suppose I
could get it so at once. Is it really good 1 "

Bartlett, recalled to himself. — " Who ?
What? Yes, yes ! it isn't had. Not at all
had. That is "—

CtHWtancf, disappointedly. — " I thought
youUkedit. " Gravely; "Why did you say
it was divine ! "

Bartlett. — "Because— I — I — thought so!"

CoJistance, with mystification. — " I 'm
afraid I don't understand. Shall I let this

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m. 117

outline remain for PonkwaBaet, or shall X uao
it for something else ? "
' BarJteW,— "Yes, let it remain for Ponk-
wasset ; if it needs changing that can e^ifily
be done afterwards. Now block out your
middle dietaDce. Sol" He tuJiea the char-
coal from her and di'aws. "Now, then,
sketch in your figures."

CoMBdMice, timidly.— "How large shall I
make them !"

Barllett. — " Oh, as large as you like. Huw
Jai^ did you think?"

Goneiance. — "I don't know. About a foot

ligh."

BartUtf. — "Well, trythem." Constance
draws, and Bartlett regarda the operation
with gestures and contortions of countenance
expressive of mingled tenderness for Constance
and extreme suffering from her performance.
She tuma about, and sarprisea him with his
hands clutched in his shaggy hair.

Comtance, with dignity. — ""What is the
matter, Mr. Bartlett ? "

Bartlett, forcing an imbecile smile.—
"Nothing, I was juat thinking- 1 should —
like to venture to make a remark,"

Constance. — "You hime I wish you to
speak to me about everything."

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118

BarlkU.—" Kd you mean that lady to be
in the middle distance!"

Cimslaitce.— "Yes."

Barlktt. — "Well, there is a slight, a very
slight, error in the perspective. She ia as
lall aa Ponkwaeset, you see, and could touch
the top of it with the point of her parasol. "

Constance, dejectedly.—"! see, I can

Bartlett. — " Oh, yes, you can, Miss Wyatt;
you iDuslji't lose patience with me. "

Constanci. — " It 'a you who won't be able
to keep jour patience with my stupidity."

B((rt/e«. — "That's not the name for it.
I shall think more of your failares than of
anybody's successes — that is—1 mean— if you
don't let this thing be a pain instead of a
pleasure to you. Eeraember, I hoped it
would amuae you."

Conetance. — "Oh, yea, You have been
only too kind, in that and everything."

SartleU, — "Well, now, let ns begin again.
This lady is very well as a lady ; you under-
stand the figure better than perspective ;
but she 'a out of place here, a little ; and a
flower out of place, yon know, is a weed.
Suppose we " — he takes upthe charcoal, and
makes a few dashes at the canvas — ' ' treat

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ivs. 119

her as a clump of tall birch-trees,— that
clump over there in the edge of the meadow ;
that will bring her into the foreground, and
entitle her to be three inchea high ; we can't
really allow her more, even as a clump of
birches. Eh!"

Constance. — "Oh, yea; that's better,
decidedly," Smiling: "Being under in-
struction, thia way, makes me think of my
aohool-daya. "

Bartletl, impressively. — "I hope they were
happy days."

CoiiMance. — "Oh, the happiest of my life. '

BarHett. — "I am ao glad." Constance
stares at him in surprise, but finally says
nothing. "I mean since this is like them,"

Constance, pensively. — "Yea, it 'a pleasant
to go back to that time. " With more anim
tion : ' ' Papa, I wonder if you remerab
Madame Le May, who ased to teach r
French when you came home after the war ;

General Wyatt, behind his newspaper.-
"Eh? What! What 's that; Some diffi-
culty in the drawing * You must both have

Constonce.—-" Why, papa! Oh, well, I
won't worry him. I suppose he's found
something about cutting down the army

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120

appropriatitmB ; that always absorbs him.
What shall I try next, Mr. Bartlett ! "

Bartka. — "You can rub in your middle
diafance."

Comtance, laughing. — "I'll try. But I
think I should be at my beat beyond the
vanishing point."

Bartlett. — "Oh, I don't believe lltat!
Perhaps it annoys you to have me looking
over your shoulder while you work ? "

Oonstonee.— " No. Oh, no."

Sarttelt.^"! see that it does."

Gonstance, — " It makes me a little nervous.
1 'm afraid of you, you know."

Bartlett. — "I didn't know I was so terrible.
How far off shall I go, to be agreeable T "

Consttmce, laughing.^" Across the room."

BaHleit. — "Shall you like me better at
that distance?"

Ctonsdinee.^"! can't let you makeajota
of our liking for you. ''

BartUll. — "You defend me, even in my
What kindUeas I must miss when
n absent ! Well, I will go and aea wliat
interests General Wyatt."

General Wyatt. — ' ' Madame Le May ?
Yes, certainly. Eemember her perfectly.
False hair, false teeth, false "—

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Con«toiiM.^"\Vhat are you reading?"
The General makes no answer.

Barlletl. — "Don't disturb him. I 'II walk
off here at this end of the room." He paces
softly up and down, while Constance returns
to her drawing, to which she diligently
applies herself. A thought seems to strike
Bartlett as hia wandering eye falls upon
General Wyatt, who still sita with his head
buried in hia newspaper. He approaches,
and remarks in a low tone ; " 1 believe I mill
take a cigar now, Gen — " The newspaper
falls slightly, and Bartlettmakes a discovery.
The General has dropped off into a doze.
With a gesture of amusement, Bartlett re-
stores the paper U> its place, and resumes
hia walk in a, quiet rapture, interrupting it
now and then to dwell in silent adoration
on the young lady'a absorption in the fine

Coneiance. — "Mr. Bartlett" —
BarUeU, halting, — "Recalled from exile
already? Well?"

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Gomtance. — " I 'm afraid I can't get by
this point alone."

fiurt2e«.— " Yes ? Let's see it." He
e^erly crosBes the room, takes his atand
behind her, and throws up his hands in
despair. Constance indicates her difficulties.

ConMaiice.. — "The question is how to get
in some idea of those slopea of the mountain.
These things seem to crowd everything

SartUU, hopelessly regarding the work.
— "I see. You have been composing a little,
— idealising. Well, I don't object to that.
Though perhaps it had better come later.
This long stretch of rooky cliff"—

Constance. — "Rocky cliff?"

Bartlett. — "Isn'tin nature, but it might
have a good effect if properly utQiaed " —

Constance, — " But it isn't rocky cliff, Mr.
Bartlett. It's"—

BartUlt, looking a second time, and more
closely. — "Why, of course I It 's that stretch
of broken woodland at the foot of the moun-
tain. Very good ; rery good indeed ; very
boldly treated. Still, I should say "'—

Constance, in desperation. — "Oh, Mr.
Bartlett, it isn't rocks, and it isn't UNJode;
it 'a — hay-stachs ! "

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BISSOLIINO VIEWS. 123

BaiHeU. — "Hay-stacks ?"

Gomlanee, deaoMely. — "Yes, hay-stacks. "

BarUett. — "But hay-stacks at the foot of
the mountain, Mias Wyatt" —

Constance, inconBolably.— "They 're not
at the foot of the niountain. They 're those
hay-stacks just out tiiere in the meadow. I
thought it would be nice to have them in
near that clump of birches you drew."

Bartlett.—" Oh-h-h-h <" He scratches his
head in visible stupefaction. Then with re-
animation : "Isee. It was my error, /was
looking for middle distance, and you had
been working on the foreground. Very good j
very — Oh, gracious powers — No, no 1 Don't
be discouraged, Miss Wyatt ; remember it 'a
the first time you 've attempted mything of
the sort, and you 've really done very well.
Here!" He seizes the pencil and draws.
"We win just sink these hay-stacks,^
which are very good in their way, but not
perhaps sufficiently subordinated, — just sink
them into the lake yonder. They will serve
very well for the refiections of those hills
beyond, and now you can work away at some
of the details of the foreground ; they will
jntereat you more." He retires a pace.
"It's really not a bad start aa it ia."

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GonstaTice. — "You drew every line in it."

BarOett. — "No, jon drew the line of the
dietant hills. "

Constance. — "But 1 ilidn't mean it for
that!"

.BrtMfeM.— " Well, well; but tlie laJy'a
figure, that was good "—

Constance.—" You turned her into a clump
of birches."

Bardett. — " True. A mere exigency of
the perspective. The haj-atacks " —

ConMamce. — " Yon 've just sunk them into
the lake t"

Borfiefi.— "'Well, well. Perhaps I may
have helped in the execution of the picture,
a little. But my dear Miss Wyatt, the
drairing is nothing ; it 's the design is what
makes the picture, and that 'a entirely yours ;
the ideas were all yours. Come 1 Try your
hand now at the shore line of the late, jnst

Constance. — "I'm afraid I 'ma little tired.
My hands are cold."

Bartlett.—" Oh, I'm sorry!" He takes
one of them and places it between either of

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hia. "That shows you've been working too
hard. I can't allow that. All the art in
the world isn't worth — I mustn't forget that
you have not been well ; and I want these
little lessons to be a pastime and not a
burden to yon. The piotnre's sufficiently
advanced now" — he meehanically puts her
hand under hia left arm, and keeps hia own
right band upon it, while he takes bis station
with her in front of the easel — " to warrant
us in trying a little coloar to-motrow.
You 'II be very much more interested in
colour. It is refreshing to get at the brushes
after you 've tired yourself out with the black
and white. You 've got a very pretty outfit;
there. Miss Wyatt." He indicates her
ooloura on the little table,

Constance. — ' ' I didn't mean to refuse the
o£fer of your paints, but I thought it would
be better to have the colours perfectly Jresh,
you know."

Barllstt. — " Quite right. Quite right.
Now you see — Kest on me. Miss Wyatt, or
I shall be afraid of fatiguing yon by stand-
ing ; and I 'd like to point out a few things
for you to begin on here to-morrow."

Conalance. — "Oh, 1 'mnot very tired. But
I will keep your arm if you will let me."

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126

BartUtt, making her auatain her weight
more distinctly on his arm.^-" By all means.
Now, here, at this point, I think I 'd better
sketch yon in that old oak down there at the
foot of our hill, with its grape-vine, and you
can work away at these without reference to
Fonkwasaet. The line of that clinging vine
is one of the most graceful things that
Nature — and Nature does know a thing or
two. Miss Wyatt ; she 's particularly good
at clinging vines — ever drew. " He looka at
her over his shoulder with an involuntary
sigh. Then, "Suppose" — he takes up the
charcoal — "I do it now. No, don't disturb
yourself." They lean forward, and aa he
eketches, their faces, drawn together, almost
touch. Bartlett drops the pencil, and staria
away, releasing his arm ; ' ' Oh, no, no I "

Gonstaitce, simply. — "Can't you do it?"

BartleU, in deep emotion. — "No, no; I
cant do it — I mustn't — it would be outrage-
ous — I — I " — E«gainiDg his self-posaession
at sight of Constance's astonished face :
' ' You said yourself gust now that I had
drawn everything in the picture. I can't do
any more. You must do the clinging vine ! "

CoTiMance, innocently. — "Very well, 111
try. If you 11 do the oak for me. I '11 let

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ws. 127

you do Uiat mucli more." They regard each
other, she with her innocent smile, he with
a wild raptare of hope, doubt, and fear.
Then Bartlett draws a, long, despairing aigh,
and tuvna away.

Bartlett.—" To-morrow, to-morrow ! " He
walks away, and retama to her. ' ' Have
you read — have you ever read The Talking
Oat, MisB Wyatt?"

Constance. — "Tennyson's? A thousand
times. Isn't it charming ? "

Snrtfe«.— "It's abaurd, I think. Do
you remember where he makes the oak say
of the young lady, —

' And In a fit of fmlii; inlrtli

aiie strove to spun my waist : . . . .

I wish'd myself tJie fair yoang bench
That hore beside me stands.

That round me, cluaping each in eacli,
She might hare locU'd lier hands' t."

CoMsfemce, — " Why, that's lovely, — that
attribution of human feeling to the tree.
Don't you think so f "

BarUett, absently. — "Yes, yes ; beautiful.
But it 'a terrible, too ; terrible. Supposing
the oak really had human feeling ; or
supposing that a man had been meant in the
figure of an oak " — He has drawn near

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12S

Constance again ; but now he retreate.
"Ah, I can't work out the idea."

Constance. — " What idea ? I can't imagine
what you mean."

BaTllRtt.—" Ah ! I can. My trouble is,
I can't say what I mean ! This was some-
time a pamdox. " '

OtmsiainKe. — "Oh! I should think, a

Bariletl. — "Some day I hope you'll let
me read it to you."

Ctiailance. — "Why not now ! "

Bartlett, impetaOHsly. — "If you only
meant what you said, it would be— so much
better than if I said what I meant I "

ConslaiKe. — " You are dealing in mysteries
to-day."

BartlsU.—" Q\ the greatest of them!
But don't mind. Wait ! I '1! try to tell
you what I mean. I won't make you stand,
while I talk. Here ! " He wheels up in
front of the picture one of the h^rclotli
sofas ; Constance meclmnically sinks down
upon it, and he takes his place at her side ;
she bends upon him a look of smiling
amusement. " I can put my meaning best,
I think, in the form of allegory. Do you
like alleKorj, Miss Wyatt ? "

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ws. 129

Constance. — "Yes. That ia, not very

Bartktt — "Ohl You don't likeallegory 1
Upon second thoughts, I don't myself. We
will not try allegory. We will try a
supposed Oftse. I tliink that's always the
best way, don't you t "

Constance.— "^0, I don't like any sort of
indirection. I believe the straightfom'ard
way is the best."

£art2fi«. — "Yea, so do I ; but it's
impossible. We vmsi try a supposed case. "

Constance, laughing. — " Well i "

Sarttett. — ' ' Ah ! I can't say anything if
you laugh. It 's a seriouB matter."

Constance, with another burst of laughter.
—"I ahould never have thought so," With
a sudden return of her old morbid mood :
" I beg your pardon tor laughing. What
right have I to laugh ? Go ou, Mr. Bartlett,
and I will listen as I should have done. I

BarWfiB.— "No, nol Thatwon'tdol You
mustn't take me so seriously as that ! Oh,
Miaa Wyatt, if I could only be so much
your friend, your fool, — I don't care what,^
as to banish that look, that tone from you

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130 A OOCNTBIKFEIT

Conatanee. — " Why do you care ? "

BaraeU.-~"Why do I care ! "

Constance. — " Yes. Why should yon
mind whether so weak and silly a thing as
I is glad or aad ? I can't underatand. Wiy
have you had so ranch patience with me I
Why do yoa take all this trouble on my
account, and waste your time on me?
Why"—

Sartlett, atartingnp. — " Whydol do it?"
He walks away to the other side of the
room with signs of great inward struggle ;
then he swiftly returns to her side where
she has risen and stands near the sofa, and
seizes her hand. "Well I will tell you
why. No, no ! I can 1 1 It w Id b —

Oenerat Wyatt, beh nd hia p pe —

' ' Outrageous ! Gross lat t g od

faith I Infernal sham Th G n al

concludes these observ ti n w th a 1 d
prolonged, and very at rt pirat n

CiMistaiice, running to hm — Why, p p ,
what do you mean ? Oh poor papa I He 's
asleep, and in sack a. wretched position i "
From which she hastens to move him, while
Bartlett, recovering from the amaze in
which the appositeness of the General's
remarks had plunged him, breaks into a

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W3. 131

harah "Ha! ha!" Constance tunia and
advances upon him in threatening majesty :
' ' Did you Jnugft, Mr. Bartlett ! "

Barlklt, after & moment's dismay. —
' ' Well, I don't know whether yoa call it
laugliing. I smiled."

Comtance, with increasing awfulness :
" Why did you laugh, Mr. Bartlett!"

Bartlett.— "l—I—l can't say."

Cmistance. — " You were laughing at
General Wyatt 1 "

Bartlett. — "Was there nothing to laugh

Constance. — " For children ! For vulgar,
aiUy boys 1 For a gentlemaji, nothing 1 "

Bartlett, with rising wrath.- — "Then I
have no eionse, unless I say that I am no

Constance. — "/ shall not dispute you in
anything ; and I wiU leave you to the
enjoyment of your mirth."

BarUett. — "Very well. As you like. I
am sorry to have offended yon. I shall
take carenever to offend you again." Con-
stance sweeps towards one door, at the
threshold of which she pauses to look iviund
and see Bairtlett dashing her box of colours
together as if it were his own, and thrusting

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132

it under hU arm, seizing withafurions hand
the canvas oa the easel and hia ooat from
the cliair-back, and then mahing from the
room. She drops her face into her hands
and vanishes, and the next moment Mrs.
Wyatt enters.

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DiaaoLvma views.

Mbs, Wyatt and Genebal Wyatt.

Mrs. Wyatt.—" What is the matter with
CoaBtance, James ! Have you been " — She
goes up to the General and discovers
Ms vigilance; "Asleep!" Waking him;
"James, James I lat/iisihe way you do the
dragon, as yon call it?"

General Wyatt, starting awake ; "DragonI
I>ragon ! What dragon ; I dreamt I was a
perfect fiery dragon, and went abontbreathing
flame and smoke. How long have I slept,
Margaret ? Where is Mr. Bartlett ? Where
is Constance?"

Mrs. Wyatt. — "Oh, you maywellaskthat,
Jamea. I just met Constance at the door,
ia tears. Oh, I hope nothing dreadful has
happened."

General Wyatt. — ^" Nonsense, Margaret.
Here, help me np, my dear. My nap hasn't
done me any good. I 'm stiff all over."

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134 A COtrSTEBFEIT PRESENTMENT.

Mrs. WyaM, anj^oasly. — "I 'm afraid jou
have taken cold, Jamea."

General IFynK, with impatience.— "Cold?
No I Not in the least. I'm perfectly weti.
But that was a very anpleasant dream.
Mat^ret, I 'm afiaid that I breathed rather
— explosively, at one time."

Mrs. Wyatt. — "Oh, James, this is worse
andworse. ItmusthaTemortified Constance,
dreadfully."

General Wyatt, taking his wife's arm, and
limping from the scene :— ' ' Well, well I
Never mind 1 I '11 make it right with
Bartlett. He 'b a man of sense, and will
help me laugh it off with her. It will be all
right, Margaret ; don't worry over a trifle
like that."

Mrs. [T^aK, as they disappear :^"Trifle?
Her whole happiness may depend upon it."
At the instant of their witjidrawal, Conatanee
and Bartlett, hastily entering by opposite
doors, encounter each other in the middle of
the room.

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DISSOLVINQ \

Babtleit and Cohsta^C£

Botii, at once.— "I came to"—

Bartlett. — " Eestore you your bos of
colours and yonr cauvaa, which 1 carried off
by miBtake."

Gonstaiice. — "To aay that I am very, very
sorry for my rudeness to you, and to entreat
you to forget my abominable words, if
you can."

Ba/rtlelt, with a generous rush of emotion,
dropping the canvas on tie floor at one side
and the box of colours on the other, and
enatching her extended band to his lipa. —
"Don't say that. 1 deserved a thousand
times more. You were right."

Constance. — "No, no! I can't let you
blame yourself to save me from self-reproach.
I know papa was ridiculous. But what made
me angry was this thought that you were
laughing at Mm. I couldn't bear that.

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136

I shouldn't have minded your laughing at
me ; but at papa ! "

Bartlett, sadiy. — "I happened to bo
laughing much more at myself tttm your
father. Where is the General ?"

Constance.^" Sc haa gone with mamma.
They wondered where you were, and I said
you were coming back again."

£artkU.^"itow did you know?"

Gotistance, — "I thought you would oome,
—that you would upbraid youraelE for my
bad behaviour, and return to excuse it to me.
You see what perfect faith I — we — have in
you."

Bartlett, earnestly.— "Have you indeed
perfect faith in me ? "

Constance. — "Perfect !"

Bartlett, vehemently. — "But why, why
do you trust me ! You see that I am hasty
and rude."

Constance,^" Oh no, not rude."

Bartlett. — "But I Bissure you that I am
so ; and you have seen that I laughed — that
I am wanting in delicacy, and "—

Constance, devoutly.— " How can you say
that to us, when every day, every hour,
every instant of the last month has given us
proof of unimaginable kindness in you !" He

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(TO. 137

eagerly approaches and takes her liands,
which ahe frankly yields him. "Your
patience, your noble forbearance, which we
Eo Borely tried, haa made us all forget that
yon are a stranger, and — and — to me it's as
if we had always known you " — her head
droops — " as if you were a — an old friend, a
-brother " —

Bartlett, dropping her hands. — "Oh!"'
He turns away, and pacing the length of the
room reapproaches her hastily.

Constance, with a Ettle cry.- — "Mr.
Bartlett ! Do look 1 Did you intend to
trample my canvas and colours under foot?"
She makes as if to stoop for them.

Bartlett, his manner undergoing a total
change as if he had been suddenly recalled
to himself at a critical moment. — "Don't !"
He hastily picks them up, and puts the
canvas on the easel and the colours on the
table. With a glance at the canvas
" Fonkwasset doesn't seem to ha^e been
seriously injured by his violent usage. Shall
you like to try your hand at him again to-

CcBwffflnce.— " Oh, yes. But on one con-
dition."
BartkU.—" Yes."

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Conetcmce, — " That you have a little faitii

Barilett.—" Oh, Misa Wyatt"—

Constance. — ' ' I used to have a bad temper,
and now that I 'm getting better it seems to
be getting worse. Try to believe in me
enough to know that when I do or say some
violent thing, I 'm aBhamed of it ; and that
when I wounded you, I really meant to hart
myself ; that I— Oh, yon know, Mr. Bart-
lett, how much jou 've borne from us, and
how much we owe you ; and if you did any-
thing now to make na think less of your un-
selfish goodness, we never could forgive
you ! " Bartlett remains with bowed head,
"I must go, now." Gaily: "Perhaps to-
morrow, when we resume our lessons, you 11
tell me what you meant to-day, when you
couldn't explain yourself."

Barilett, vehemently. — "No, I can never
tell yon."

Comtance. — "I can't believe that! At
any rate, we shall talk the matter over, and
I may say something to help you. You
know how one thing leads to another. "

BartUu. — " But nothing you can ever say
now will lead to what I wanted to say. "

Constance, laughing. — "Don't bo sure.

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If you rouse my curiosity, I shall be a
powerful aid to expreBsion. With a woman's
wit to help you out with your meaning, how
can yon help mating it clear ! "

Bartktt,—" Because — because it wants
something more than wit in you to make it

Constance. — "Well, you shall have sym-
pathy, if sympathy is what you need. la it
something lika sympathy ! "

Bartlett. — " Something like sympathy ; but
— not — not exactly sjTnpathy."

Gonitance, with another laugh.— " How
difficult you make it ! I see ! You want
compaaaion."

Bartlett, quickly. — " Oh, no ! I would
sooner have contempt !"

CiMistoiifB.— " But that 'a the one thing you
can't have. Try to think of something else
yoa want, and let me know to-morrow."
She noda brightly to him, and he follows her
going with a gaze of hopeless longing. As
she vaniahes through the doorway, he lifts
his hand to his lips, and reverently kissea it

SartUtt, ^oae. — "Trytofftintwhatl want
and let you know ! Ah, my darling, my
darling ! Youi faith in me killa my hope.

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140 A

If J Ij lar d rttla lesa with me, how

m h I mi^lit iare with yon ; and if

y t isterly sweet, how mueh

w t J might 1 e 1 Brother ! Forty
t] sa 1 b th rs uld not with all theii
q aJit ty f 1 mke up my sum ! You

h jn f rth than your worst enemy
from you with that fatal word. Brother ?
I hate brother ! If it had been cousin — And
kind? Oh, I wotdd wc were

'A little lesa than kin, aiid more tiiau hiad I

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NOT AT ALL LIKE.

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Eabti-ett and Cfmuhngs.

Bardelt. — "Six weeks since you were
here ? I shouldn't have thought that. "
Bartlett's easel standa before the window,
in the hotel parlour ; he hae laid a tint
upon the canvas, and has retired a few pacea
for the effect, Hb palette and mahl-stick. in
hand, and hia head carried at a critical
angle. Cummings, who has been doing the
duty of art-culture by the picture, regards
it with renewed interest. Bartlett resumea
hia work : " Pretty good, Cuiranings ! "

Cwmmings. — "Capital ! The blue of that
distance "■ —

Bartlett, with a burlesque sigh.—" All, I
looked into my heart and painted for tJiat !
Well, you find me still here, Cunimings, and
apparently more at home than ever. The
landlord has devoted this parlour to the

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au e of art — m k th trai t th

lowe pa lo w — i w 1 thi all

to ours 1 a M ^^ j tt L t h y
kn w H r m th bm gs 1 se ing and
th C en tal h bru es h 1 as t q t
s a bl d up y t from th t I ttl l k
1 wi fhs a n 1 t t t tm f
life, I believe ; and we make this our faimly-
roora ; and a, very queer family we are !
Fine old fellow, the General ; he 'a behaved
himself aince his accident like a disabled
angel, and hasn't sworn,— well, anything
worth speaking of. Yea, here I am, I
suppose it 's all right, but for all I know it
may be all wrong." Bartlett sighs in un-
guarded Binoeiity. " / don't know what
I'm here for. Nature began shotting up
shop a fortnight ago at a pretty lively rate,
and edging loafers to the door, witli every
sign of impatience ; and yet here I am,
han^ng round still, I suppose this glimpse
of Indian Summer is some excuse just now ;
it's a perfect blessing to the landlord, and
Le 'a making hay— rowen crop' — -while the
sun shines ; I 've been with him so long now,
I take quite an interest in hia prosperity, if
eight dollars a week of it do come out of
I Attcrniatli,

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me I What ia talked of in ' art-cirolos '
down in Boston, brother Cummings ?"

C'ummiitgs. — " Yonr picture."

BarileU, inattentively, while he comes
up to his canvas, and bestows an inlinitesi.
mal portion of paint upon, a destitute

spot in the c

anvas. — "Don't be sarcastic.

Cumming).-

-"I'm not, I assure you."

BartkU, tar

tiing toward him incredulously.

— " Do you m

ean to say that The First Grey

Hair ia liked ?"

Cummijiys. — " I do. There hasn't been
any picture so mnch talked of this season."

BartUtt. — "Then it 'a the shameless slop
of the name. I should think you'd blush
tor your part in that swindle. But clergy-
men have no conscience, where they 've a
chance tfl do a fellow a kindness, I 've
observed," He goes np to Cummings with
his brush in his mouth, hia palette on one
hand, and hia mahl-atick in the other, and
contrives to lay hold of his shoulders with a
few diaeng^ed fingers. Aa Cummings
shrinks a little from hia embrace; "Oh,
don't be afrMd ; I shan't get any paint on
you. You need a whole coat of whitewash,
thongh, you unscrupulous saint ! " He

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146

returns to his eaael. " So The Old Girl —
that's what I shall caJ] the picture— is a,
auooeaa, is she ? The admiriiig pubiie ought
to see the original elm-tree now ; she hasn't
got & hair, grey or green, on her head ;
ehe 's perfectly bald. I say, Cuniniings,
how would it do for me to paint a pendant.
The Loit Qrey Hrdr ? I might look up a
leaf or two on the elm, somewhere i stick it
on to the point of twig ; they wouldn't know
aJiy better. "

(7umni!iitfS.— " Tha leafless elm wonhl
make a good picture, whatever you colled
it. " Bartlett throws back his shaggy head
and laughs up at the ceiling. ' ' The fact is,
Bartlett, I've got a little surprise for you."

BaHlett, looking at him askance. — " Some-
body wanting to chromo The Old Girl t Ho,
no ; it isn't quite so had as that ! "

Camminga, in a burst. — " They did want ti)
chromo it. But it 's sold. They 've got you
two hundred dollars for it." Bartlett lays
down his brush, palette, and mahl-stiok,
dusts his fingers, puts them in his pockets,
and comes and stands before Cmnminga, on
whom, seated, he bends a curious look.

Bartlett.— " And do you mean to tell me,
you hardened atheist, that you don't believe

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in the doctrine of future pmiiahmentB ?
Wliat are they going to do with you in tho
nestworldf And that picture-dealer? And
me ? Two hiin — It 's an outrage ! It 'a—
the picture wasn't worth fifty, by a stretch
of the moat charitable imagination I Two
hundred d— Why, Cummings, I 'H paint
no end of Old Girls, First and Last Grey
Haira — I '11 flood the market ! Two — Good
Lord !" Bartlett goes back to his eaael, and
silently resumes his work. After a while :
' ' Who 's been offered up ? "

Cumminge.^" What ?"

BartleM. — "Who 'a the victim? Mypatron!
The noble and discriminating and munificent
purchaser of The Old Girl!"

Cummings.^" Ob ! Mrs. Bellingham
She 's going to send it out to her daughter in
Omaha,"

Bartleil.—" Ah.\ Mrs. Blake wishes to
found an art museum with that curiosity out
there ? Sorry for the Omaha-has. " Cum-
mings makes a, gesture of impatience.
" Well, well ; I won't then, old fellow ! I 'm
truly obUged to you. I accept my good
fortune with compunction, hot with all the
gratitude imaginable. I say, Cummings ! "

Cvmminga. — "Well?"

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146

Sartlelt.—" What do you think of my
taking to high art, — mountains twelve
hundred feet above the sea, like this portrait
of Ponkwaaaet!"

Cwmmlngs, — ^"I've always told yon that
yon had only to give yourself scope, —
attempt something worthy of your powers " —

Barlletl.—" Ah, I thought bo. Then yon
believe that a good big canvas and a good
big subject would be the making of me!
Well, I 've come lound to that idea myself.
I used to think that if there waa any great-
ness in me, I could get it into a small picture,
like Meissonier or Corot. Bnt I can't. I
must have room, like the Yellowstone and
Yo-Semite feUowB. Don't you think Miss
Wyatt is looking wonderfully improved ? "

Cum/min^js. — " Wonderfully I And how
beaulifnl she ia ! She looked lovely that
first day, in spite of her ghostliness ; but

BaTtlett. — "Yes; a phantom, of delight is
good enough in its vray, but a well woman is
the prettiest, after all. Miss Wyatt sketches,
I think I told you."

Oummings. — "Yes, you mentioned it."

Bartlett. — " Ot course. Otherwise, I

couldn't possibly have thought of her while

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NOT AT ALL LIKE. 149

1 was at work on a great picture like this.
She sketches " — Bartlett puts his noae
almost on the canvas in the process of
bestowing a delicate touch — " she sketches
about as badly as any woman I ever saw,
and that 's saying a good deal. But she looks
nncommonly well while she 's at it. The
fact is, Cumminga,"— Bartlett retires some
feet from the canvas and equinta at it, —
" this very picture which you approve of ao
highly is — Miss Wyatt'a. / couldn't attempt
anything of the size of Ponkwasset ! But
she allows me to paint at it a little when
she 'a away." Bartlett steals a look of joy
at his friend's vexation, and then contiuues
seriously; "I've been having a curious
time, Cumminga." The other remains silent
"Don't you want to ask me about it!"
Cum-mings. — "I don't know that I do."
Bartleti, — "Why, my dear old fellow,
you're hurt! It icaa a silly joke, and I
honestly aak your pardon." He lays down
his brush and palette and leaves the easel.
" Cumminga, I don't know what to do. I 'm
in a perfect deuce of a state. I 'm hit —
awfully hard ; and I don't know what to do
about it. I wish I had gone at once — the
iirst day. But I had to stay, — I had to

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PKESENTMBNT.

stay," He tuma and walks away from
Cmnminga, whose eyea follow him in pardon
and sympathy.

CuJii'mings, — "Do you roaEy mean it,
Bartlett ? I didn't dream of such a thing.
I thought you were still brooding over that
affair with Mi^ Harlan."

Bartlett. — "Oh, child's-play! A prehis-
toric illusion ! A solar myth ! The thing
never ■was." He rejects the ohaolet* super-
stition with a wave of his left hand. " I 'm
in love with this girl, and I (eel like a sneak
and a brute about it. At the very best it
would he prepoateroua. Who am I, a poor
devil of a painter, the particular pet of
Poverty, to think of a young lady whose
family and position could command her the
heat ? But putting that aside, — putting
that insuperable obstacle lightly aside, as a
mere trifle,— the thing remains an atrocity.
It 's enormously indelicate to tliink of loving
a woman who would never have looked twice
at me if I hadn't reaembled an infernal
■ scoundrel who tried fo break her heart ; and
I Ve nothing elae to commend me. I 've the
perfect certainty that she doesn't and can't
care anything for me in myself ; and it grinds
me into the dust to tealiae on what terms

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ehe toleiates me. I could carry it off as a
joke at first ; but when it became eerioas, I
had to look it in the face ; and that 'a what
it amounts to, and if you know of any more
hopeless and humiliating tangle, 1 don't."
Bartlett, who haa approached his friend
during this speech, walks away again ; and
there is an interval of silence.

Owaindngi, at last, muamgly. — " You in
love with Misa Wj^tt ; I can't imag^ns it ! "

Baritell, fiercely. — "You can't imagine it?
What 's the reason you can't imagine it ?
Don't he offensive, Cumraingsl" He stops
in hia walk and lowers upon his tnend.
"Why shouldn't I he in love with Miaa
Wyatt ?"

Cumminrja. — "Oh, nothing. Only you
were saying —

BartUtt, — " I was aaying 1 Don't tell me
what / was saying. Say something your-
self."

CicmnUnDS. — "Eeally, Bartlett, you can't
expect mo to stand this sort of thing.
You're preposterous."

Bartlett,^" I know it i But don't hlamc
me, I beg your pardon. Is it because of
the circumstances that you can't imagine my
being in love with her?"

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152

Oumminga. — "Oh, no; I wasn't thinking
of the circumstances ; bat it seemed so out
of cliaracter for you " —

Eartlett, impatiently. — "Oh, love's always
out of character, just as it's always out of
reason. I admit freely that I 'm an ass.
And then?"

Cummings. — "Well, then, I don't believe
you have any more reason to be in despair
than you have to he in love. If she tolerates
you, as you say, it can't be because you look
like the man who j Sited her. "

Bartlett. — "Ah! But if ahe still loves

Cwnmings. — " You don't know that. That
strikes me as a craze of jealousy. What
makes you think she tolerates you for that

Barf lett.^" What makes me think it?
From the very first she interpreted me by
what she knew of him. She expected me to
be this and not to be that ; to have one
habit and not ajiother ; and I could see that
every time the fact was diflerent, it was a
miserable disappointment to her, a sort of
shook. Every little difference between me
and that other rascal gave her a stai^ ; and
whenever I looked up I found her wistful

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NOT AT AU, LIKE. 153

eyes on me as if they were trying to puzzle
me out ; they used to follow me round the
room like the eyes of a family portrait. You
wouldn't have liked it yourself, Cummings.
For the first three weeks I simply existed
on false pretences, — involuntary false pre-
tences, at that. I wanted to explode ; I
wanted to roar out. If you think I 'm at all
like that abandoned scoundrel of yours in
anything but looks, I'm not! But I was
bound by everything that was decent, to
hold my tongue, and let my soul be rasped
out of me in silence and apparent uncon-
sciousness. That was yoxir fault. If you
hadn't told me all about the thing, I could
have done something outrageous and stopped
it. But I was tied hand and foot by what
I knew. I had to let it go on. "

Camminge, — "I'm very sorry, Bartlett,
but "—

Bartktt — "Oh, I dare say you wouldn't
have done it if you hadn't had a wild ass of
the deaert to deal with. Well, the old
people got used to some little individuality
in me, by-and-by, and beyond a suppressed
whoop or two from the mother when I came
suddenly into the room, they didn't do any-
thing to annoy me directly. But they were

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1^4

anxious every minute for the effect oiv licr ;
ami it worried rae aa much to have them
watching her oa to have her watching me.
Of course I knew that she talked this con-
founded resemblanea over with her mother
every time I left them, and avoided talking
it over with the father. "

CuTOmmffs.—" But you say the troulile 's

BartleiS.— "Oh— oucj-.' No, it isn't over.
When she 's with me a while she conies to
see that I am not a mere doppelgdnger. She
respites me to that extent. But I have still
some small rags of self-esteem dangling
about me; and now suppose I should presume
to set up for somebody on my omi account :
the jirst hint of my caring for her as I do, if
she could conceive of anything so atrocious,
would tear open all the old sorrows. Ah 1
I can't think of it, Beaidea, I tell you, it
Isn't all over. It 'b only not so bad as it
was. She's subject to relapsea, when it's
much worse than ever. Why" — Bartlett
stands facing his friend, with a half-whim-
sical, ha]f-deaperate smile, as if about to
illustrate his l>oint, when Constance and her
moWier enter the parlour.

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;, with a quick violent anrcst, —
"Ah! Ohl"

Mrs. WyiUt,^" Constance, Constance, dar-
ling ! What 's the matter?''

Goaatajice. — " Oh, nothing ^- nothing,"
She laughs, nervouaiy, "I thought there
was nobody^here ; and it— startled me.
How do you do, Mr. Cumminga?" She goes
qnicHj up to that gentleman, and gives him
her hand. "Dont you think it wonderful
to find such a day aa this, up here, at this
time of year ? " She struggles to control the
panting breath in which she speaks.

CumToijigs. — "Yes, I supposed I had come
quite too late for anything of the sort. You
must make haste with your Ponkwasset,
MisB Wyatt, or you'll have to paint him
with his winter cap on."

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Constance. — "Ah, yea! Mypioture. Mr.
Bartlett has been telling you. " Hereyealiave
already wandered away from Cummings, and
they now dwell, with a furtive light of
reparatiou and imploring upon Bartlett'a
disheartened patience ; " Good morning. " It
J9 a delicately tentative salutation, in a low
voice, still fluttered by her nervous agita-

Bartieit, in dull despair ; ' ' Oood morning, "

Constance. — "How ia the light on the
mountain thia morning?" She drifts de-
precatingly up to the picture, near which
Bartlett has stolidly kept his place.

Bartktt, in. apathetb inattention. — "Oh,
very well, very well indeed, thank you."

Constance, after a hesitating glance at him.
—"Did you like what I had done on it
yesterday ? "

Barektt, very much as before. — "Oh, yea;
why not ! "

Conatance, with a meek subtlety. — " I was
afraid I had vajrad you— by it." She bends
an appealing glance upon him, to wliich
Bartlett remains impervious, and she drops
her eyes with a faint sigh. Then she lifts
them again ; " I was afraid I had — made the
distance too blue."

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NOT AT ALL LIKE. 157

BaHkii.^" OK no; not at all,"
Con^^ance, — ' ' Do you think I had. I>etter
try to finish it?"
BartleU. — ' ' Oh, certainly. Why not ? If

Comtanee, perplexedly. — " Of course."
Then with a aad flignificance; "But I know
I am trying your patience too far. You
have been so kind, so good, I can't forgive
myself for annoying you."

Bartlett, — " It doesnt aiuioy me, I 'ni
Tery gM to be useful to you. "

Consiance, demurely. — "I didn't mean
painting; I meant — screaming." She litta
her eyes to Bartlett'a face, with a pathetic,
inqniring attempt at lightness, the slightest
imaginable experimental archness in her self-
reproach, which dies out aa Bartlett frowns
and bites the comer of his moustache in
unrwiponsive silence. "I ought to be well
enough now to stop it: I'm quite well
enough to be ashamed of it." She breaks
off a miserable little laugh.

Bartlett, with cold indifference. — "There's
no reason why you should stop it — if it
amuses you. " She looks at him in surpriae
at this rudeness. "Do you wish to try
your hand at Ponkwasset this morning?"

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Constance, with a, flash of reaentment. —
"No; thanks," Then with a lapse into her
morbid self-abasement: "I shall not touch
it again. Mamma. ! "

jifrs. Wyatt. — "Yes, Constance." Mrs.
Wyatt and Onmininga, both intent on Bart-
lett and Constance, have been heroioally
feigning ft polite interest in ca<;h other, from
which pretence they now eagerly release
themselv^.

Constance. — "Oh^nothing. I can get it
of Mary. I won't trouble yon." She goee
toward the door.

Mrs. Wyatt.— "Mary isn't up from her
breaifast yet. If you want anything, let
me go with you, dear." She tuma to follow
Constance. " Good morning, Mr. Cuni-
inings; we shall see you at dinner. Good
morning,"— wi til aJi inquiring glance at
Bartlett. Constance slightly inclines towards
tlie two gentlemen without looking at them,
in going out with her mother; and Cum-
mings moves away to the piano, and affects
to examine the aheet-inuaic scattered over
it. Bartlett remains in his place near the

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mid CUMMINGS.

BaHleil, liarahly, aiter a. certain sileucc
which his friend ia apparently resolved not
io break. — " Sail in, Cnmminga ! "

Gitmmiiiga. — "Oh, I've got nothing to

Barllett. — "Yes, jou have. You think
I 'm a, greater fool and a greater brute than
you ever supposed in your most sanguine
moments. Well, I am ! What then t "

Cuminmg), turning about from the musie
at which he has been pretending to look,
and fa^g Bartlett, with a Blight shrug.^
"If you choose to characterise your own
behaviour in that way, I shall not dispute
you at any rate. "

SaHkiL— "Go oaV

Cntnmungs. — "Go on? You saw yourself,
I suppose, how she hung upon every syllable
you spoke, every look, every gesture ? "

fiaj-(;e«. — "Yes, Isawit."

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Cummings.- — "You saw how completely
crushed she was by your tone and manner.
You 're not blind. Upon my word, Bartlctt,
if I didn't know what a good, kind-hearted
fellow you are, I should say you were the
greatest ruffian alive."

BartUtt, withagroan. — "GoonI That's
something like."

Cumjniiifls.^" I couldn't hear what was
going on — I 'U own I tried — but I could see ;
and to see the delicate amende, she was try-
ing to offer you, in such a way that it should
not seem an amende, — a perfect study of a
woman's gracious, unconscious art,— and
then to see your sour retusal of A all, it
nia:de me sick '

BartUlt, with a desperate clutch at liia
face, like a man oppressed w ith some stifling
vapour. — "Yes, yea' I saw it all, too'
And it it had been for me, 1 would have
giren anything for such liappineaa. Oh,
gracious powers ! How dear she is ! I
would rather have suffered any anguish than
give her pain, and yet I gave her pain 1 I
knew how it entered her heart : I felt it
in my own. But what could I do? If I
am to be myself, if I am not to steal the
tenderness meant for anotlier man, tlie

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NOT AT AM, LIKE. 161

love she ehows to me because I 'm like
Boroebody else, I tnitsl play the brute.
But have a. little mercy on me. At least,
I 'in a baited bi-ate. I don't know whicb
way t« turn, I don't know what to do.
She's so dear to me, — so dear in every tone
of her voice, every look of her eyes, every
aspiration or desire of her transparent soul,
that it seems to me my whole being is
nothing but a thought of her. I loved her
telplcsaneaa, her pallor, her sorrow ; judge
tow I adore her return to something like
life ! Oh, you blame me ! You simplify
this infernal perplexity of mine and label it
brutality, aod scold me for it. Great heaven !
And yet you saw, yon heard how she entered
this room. In that instant the old illusion
was back on her, and / was nothing. All
that I had been striving and longing to be
to her, and hoping and despairing to seem,
was swept out of existence ; I was reduced
to a body without a soul, to a shadow, a
counterfeit ! You think I resented it ?
Poor girl, I pitied her so ; and my own
heart all the time like lead in my breast, — a
dull lump of ache I I swear, I wonder I
don't go mad. I suppose — why, I suppose

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bedevilled by such a maniacal haliucmation
Look here, CummingH tell me tliat this
damnable coil isn't simply a inittcr of my
own fancy. It'll be some little relief to
know that it 's reai. "

CWnmsBgs. — "It's real enough, ray dtar
fellow. And it is a trial, — more thin I
could have believed sui-h a fintastio thm§,
could be."

Baraete.—" Triall Ordeal by firi, ' Tor
ment I I can't stand it any longer

Oummings, musingly. — "She is beautiful,
isn't she, with that faint dawn of red in her
cheeks, — not a colour, but a coloured light
like the light that hangs round a rose-tree's
boughs in the early spring ! And what a
magnificent movement, what a stately grace 1
The girl must have been a goddess I"

liarUelt.—" knU now she's a samt— for
Bwcetness and patience ! You think she 's
had nothing to sufFer before from me ? You
know me better ! Well, I 'm going away."

Ciimminfl*.^" Perhaps it will be the best.
You can go back with me to-morrow."

Bartlett. — "To-morrow? Go back with
you to-morrow? What are you talking
about, man?" Cummings smiles. "Ican't
go to-morrow. I can't leave her hating me. "

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Cumminffs.—" J knew you never meant to
go. Well, what win you do ! "

Sarilett. — "Don'i be so cold-blooded]
What would you do ? "

Oummings. — "I would have it out aome-

BaraeU.-~"Cth, you talk ! How?"
Cummings. — "I am not in love with Miss
Wyatt"

Barllelt. — "Oh, don't try to play the
cynic with me ! It doesn't become you. I
know 1 Ve used you badly at times, Cum-
mings. I behaved abominably in leaving
you to take the brunt of meeting General
Wyatt that firat day ; I said so then, and I
ehall always say it. But I thought you had
forgiven that."

Cummings, withalaugh. — "You make it
hard to treat you seriously, Bartlett. W^hat
do you want me to do ? Do you want me to go
to Miss Wyatt and explain your case to her!"
Barlkit, angrily.— "No !"
Cammingn. — "Perhaps to Mrs. Wyatt?"
Barlhtt, infuriate. — ^"No!"
CwmTninga. — "To the General?"
Bartletl, with sudden guiet. — "You liad
better go away from here, Cumminga— while
yow can."

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164 A COXTKIBRFBIT

Cwnvmings. — "laee you don't wUli me to
do anything, and you 're quite right. No-
body can do anything but yourself."

Ba/rtlett. — "And what would you advise
me to do?"

Cwmmings. — " I 've told you that I wonid
have it out. You oan't niake matters worse.
You can't go ou in this way indefinitely.
It 's just poaaible that you might find your-
self mistaken, ^that Miss Wyatt cares for
you in your own proper identity."

BaTthtt. — "For shame 1"

Cummioijs. — " Oh, if you like 1 "

Bartlett, after a pause. — -"Would you —
■would you see the General ! "

Cummings.—"'U I wanted to marry the
General. Come, Bartlett ; don't be ridicu-
lous. Yon know you don't waat my advice,
and I haven't any to give. I muat go to my
room a moment."

.BartfeM.— "Well, got You're of no
advantage here. You 'd have it out, would
you? Well, then, I wouldn't. I'mabmte,
I know, and a fool, but I 'm not auoh a brute
and fool as that ! " Cnmmings listens with
smiling patience, and then goes without
reply, while Bartlett drops into the chair
near the easel, and sulkily glares at the

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LL EE. 165

picture. Thr gl tl wmdow at hia back
shows the m U linn mer landscape.
The trees ! 11 d pp d their leaves, save

the oaks which show their dark crimson
bannera among the deep green of the pinea
and hemlocks on the hills ; the meadows,
verdant as in June, slope away toward the
fringe of birches and yoang maples along the
borders of the pond ; the low-i>laokberry
trails like a running fire over the long grass
limp from the first frosta, which have silenced
all the insect voices. No sound of sylvan
life is heard but the harsh challenge of a jay,
answered from many trees of the nearest
wood-lot. The far-off hill-tops aie molten
in the soft azure haze of the season ; the
nearer slopes and crests sleep under a greyer
and thinner veil. It is to this scene that
the painter tnms from the easel, with the
sullen unconsciouauess in which he has dwelt
upon the picture. Its beauty seems at la^t
to penetrate his Qiood ; he rises and looks
upon it ; then he goes out on the gallery,
and, hidden by the fall of one of the curtains,
stands leaning upon the rail and rapt in the
common reverie of the dreaming worid.
While he lingers there, Cummings appears
at the door, and looks in ; then with an air

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of aonie surprise, aa if wonderiiig not to see
Bartlett, vanishes again, to give place to
General Wyatt, who after a like reeearoh
retires silently and apparently disconcerted.
A few moments later Mrs. Wyatt cornea to
the threshold, and calling gently into the
room, "Constance I" waits briefly and goes
away. At laat, the young girl horself
appears, and falters in the doorway an
instant, but finally comes forward and drifts
softly and indirectly up to the picture, at
which she glances with a little sigh. At
the same moment Bartlett's voice, trolling a
snatch of song, comes from the gallery with-

Hera apart out patha, t]i

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Ab the song ends, Bai^lett reappears at the
gallery door giving into the parlonr, and
enoonnters Constance turning at hia trea<J
from the picture on which she has been
pensively gazing while he sang. He puts
np a hand on either aide of the door.

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Baktlett and Cosbtance.
Sartktt, — "I didn't know you wore

Constance — "Neither did I — know you
were till I heard you ainging. "

Bartlelt smiling ironically. — " Oh, you
didn t suppose I sang i"

Conitaiu:' tonfnsedly. — "I — I don't

Bartlett — Ah you thought I did ! 1
don t. I waa mdulging in a sort of modu-
lated howling which I flatter myself is at
least one peculiarity that 'a entirely my own.
I waa baying the landscape merely for my
private amusement, and I 'd not have done
it, if I 'd known you were in hearing. How-
ever, if it 's helped to settle the fact one way
or other, concerning any little idiosyncrasy
of wine, I shan't regret it. I hope not to
disappoint you in anything, by-and-by."

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He drops hia liauda from the door-poBta and
steps into the room, while Oonstanoe, in
Ehrinking abeyance, stands trembling a.t his
liarshness.

OotiMaitce, ia faltering reproach,— " Mr.
Bavtlett !"

Bartlett, — " Constance ! "

Constaiicf, struggling to aasert herself,
but breaking feebly in her attempt at
hauteur. — "Constance? M'liat does this
mean, Mr. Bartlett?"

Barltett, with a, sudden burst. — ■" What
does it mean T It means that I 'm sick of
this nightmare masquerade. It means that
I want to be something to you — all the
world to you — in and for myself. It means
that I can't play another man's part any
longer and live. It means that I love you,
love you, love you, Constance ! " He starts
involuntarily toward her with outstretched
arms, from which she recoils with a con-
vulsive cry.

Constance. — " Von love me ! jlfe ? Oh, no,
no ! How can you be so merciless as to talk
to me of love t " She drops her glowing face
into her hands.

Bartlett. — " Because I 'm a man. Because
love is more thaai mercy— better, higher,

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170 A CODNTERPBIT

wiser. Listen to me, Constance !— yes, I will
call you so now if never again : you are so
dear to me that I must say it at last if it
killed you. If loving you is cniel, I 'm piti-
less ! Give me some hope, tell me to breathe,
my girl I "

Oonslance, — "Oh go, while I can still for-
give you."

Bartlett.—"! won't go; I won't have
your forgiveness ; I will have all or nothing ;
I want your love I "

Co)istance, uncovering her face and turn-
ing its desolation upon him ; " My love 1
I have no love to give. My heart is dead."

Bartlett.— ""So, no I That's part of the
ugly trance that we 've both been living in
so long. Loot 1 You 're better now than
when you came here ; you 're stronger,
braver, more beautiful. My angel, you 're
turned a woman again ! Oh, you can love
me if you will ; and you will ! Look at me,
darling ! " He takes her listless right liand
in his left, and gently draws her toward

CovMailce, starting away. — " You 're
wrong; you're all wrong! You don't
understand ; you don't know — Oh, listen

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Bartlett, atill holding her aold hand faat.
— " Yes, a tiiouaand years. But you must
tell me first that I may love you. That
first ! "

Constance.—" No ! That never ! And
iince you speak to me of love, listen to what
it 'a my right you should hear, "

Bartkli, releasing her. — " I don't care to
hear. Nothing cao ever change me. But if
yon bid me, I wiH go ! "

Constance. — "You shall not go now till
you know what despised and hatod and
forsaken thing you 've olfered your love
to."

BarUett, heaeeehingly.—" Constance, let
me go while I can forgive myself. Nothing
you can Bay will make me love you leas ;
remember that ; but I implore you to spare
youraelf . Don't apeak, my love. '

Conetunce. — " Spare myself ! Not apeak ?
Not apeak what has heen on my tongue and
heart and brain, a burning fire, so long ? — •
Oh, I was a happy girl once 1 The days were
not long enough for my happiness i I woke
at night to think of it. I waa proud in my
happiness and believed myself, poor fool,
one to favour those I smiled on ; and I had
my vain and crazy dreams of being the hap-

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172

pineBB of soma one who should come to ask
for — what you ask now. Some one came.
At first I didn't care for him, but lie knew
Low to make me. He knew how to make
my thoughts of him pail; of my happineaa
and pride and vanity tUl he was all in all,
and I had no wish, no hope, no life but him ;
and then he — left mel" She buries her face
in her hands again, and breaks into a low,
piteouB sobbing.

BarUeil, with a groan of helpless fury and
compaasion. — " The fool, the sot, the slave !
Constance, I knew all this,— I knew it from
the first."

OonaloRCf, recoiling in wild reproach.—
" You Aneto it?"

BfxrUett, desperately. — " Yes, 1 knew it —
in spite of myself, through jny own stubborn
fury I knew it, that £rst day, when I had
obliged my friend to tell me what your
father had told him, before I would hear
reason. I would have given anything not
to have known it tJicn, when it was too
late, tor I had at least the grace to feel the
wrong, the outrage of my knowing it. You
can never pardon it, I see ; but you must
feel what a hatefnl burden I liad to bear,
when I found that I had somehow purloined

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tie presence, the looks, the voice of aaotliei-
man — a man whom I would, have joytully
changed myself to any monstrous shape not
to resemble, though Iknew thatmy likeness
to him, bewildering you in a continual dream
of him, was all that ever made you look at
me or think of me. I lived in the hope —
Heaven only knows why I should have had
the hope 1 — that I might yet be myself to
you ; that ymi might wake from your dream
of him and look on me in the daylight, and
see that I was at least an honest man, and
pity me and may be love me at last, as I
loved you at first, from the moment I saw
your dear pale face, and heard your dear, sad
voice." He follows np her slow retreat and
again possesses himself of her hand : ' ' Don't
cafit me off ! It was monstrous, out of
all decency, to know your sorrow ; but I
never tried to know it ; I tried not to know
it." He keeps fast hold of her hand, while
she remains with averteil head. " I love
you, ConstMice ; I loved you ; and when
once you had bidden me stay, I V a 1 1^1
to go away, or I would never b h n w
to offend you with the confess a f that
shameful knowledge. Do you thu k t was
no trial to me T It gave me the ons le ce

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of an eavesdropper and a spy ; yet aU I knew

Comtaitce, turning and looking steadfastly
into Ilia face. — " And you could care for bo
poor a creature as I — so abject, so obtuse aa
never to know what had miide her intoler-
able to the man that cast her off?"
Bartlelt. — "Man? Hewasnoman! He" —
Cormtwiice, suddenly. — "Oh, wait ! I— I
love him yet."
Barthtt, dropping her hand. — ■" You " —
ConsitoiCe, — "Yes, yes! As much as I
live, I love him I But when he left me, I
seamed to die ; ajid now it 's aa if I were
some wretched ghost clinging for all exist-
ence to the thought of my lost happi-
ness. If that shps from me, then I cease

Barllett. — " Why, this is still your dream.
But I won't despair. You '11 wake yet, and
care for me ; I know you wilL"

Comtance, tenderly. — "Oh, I'm not dream-
ing now. 1 know that you are not he.
You are everything that is kind and good ;
and some day you will be very happy."

Bartktt, desolately. — " I shall never he
happy without your love. " After a pause :
" It will be a barren, bitter comfort, bat let

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NOT AT ALL LIKB. 175

me have it if you can : if / had met you
first, could you have loved me ?"

Constance, — "I might have loved you if
—^I had— lived." She turns from him again,
and moves softly toward the door; hia
hollow voice arrests her.

Bartlett.—" 1! you are dead, then I have
lived too long. Your loss takes the smile
out of life for me." A moment later : " You
are cruel, Constance."

Constance, abruptly facing him. — " I
cruel? To youF"

BartleU. — "Yes, you have put me to
shame before myself. You might have
spared me I A treacherous villain is false
in time to save you from a life of betrayal,
and you say your heart is dca^. But that
isn't enough. You tell me that you cannot
care for me because you love that treacher-
ous vill^n still. That 's my disgrace, that's
my humiliation, that 's my killing shame.
I could have borne all else. You might
have cast me off however you would, driven
me away with any scorn, whipped me from
yon with the sharpest rebuke that such pre-
sumption as mine could merit ; but to drag
a decent man's self-respect through such
mire as that poor rascal's memory for six

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long weeks, and then teli him that yon
prefer the miro " —

OoT^stance. — "Oh, hush! I can't let j'ou
reproach him ! He waa pitilessly falsa to
lae, but I will be tme to him for ever. How
do I know — -I must find some reason foe that,
or there ia no reason in anything ! — how do
I know that he did not break hia word to
me at my father's bidding ? My father
never liked him."

Bartlett, shaking his head with a melan-
choly smile. — "Ah, Constance, do you think
/ would break my word to you at your
father's bidding ? "

Conatancc, ia abject desp^r. — "Well,
then T go back to what I always knew ; I
wag too slight, too foolish, too tiresonie for
his life-long love. He saw it in time, I don't
blame him. You would see it, too,"

Barttett. — " What devil's vantage enabled
that infernal sconndrel to blight your spirit
with hi3 treason ? Constance, is this my
laet answer?"

ConstaTice. — " Yes, go ! I am bo sorry for
you, — aorrier than I ever thoaght I could be
for anything again."

BarAett.—"T'hea if you pity me, give me
a little hope that sometime, aonielioii" —

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Constance.— " Oh, I have no hope, for
you, tor me, for any one. Good-bye, good,
kind Mend ! Try,— you won't have to try
hard — to forget me. Unless some miracle
should happen to show me that it was all
his fault and none of mine, we are jiarting
now for ever. It has been a strange dream,
and nothing is so strange as that it should
be ending ao. Are you the ghost or I, I
wondeir ! It confuses me as it did at first ;
but if you are he, or only you — Ah, don't
look at ne so ch' I must believe he has
never left me an 1 mplore you to stay ! "

Ba I qa etly — ' ' Thanks. I would
not stay am e t longer in hia disguise,
if J on begged ne on your knees. I ahall
alwaya 1 a j ou C oustanoe, but if the world
3 wide e gh pleaae Heaven, I will never
Bee you again. There are some things
dearer to me than your presence. No, I
won't take your hand ; it can't heal the
hurt your words have made, and nothing
can help me, now I know from your own
lipa that but for my likeness to him I should
never have been anything to you. Good-
bye!"

Ctmsfance.—" Oh V She sinks with a
long cry into the arm-chair hewde the table,

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178

toid drops her head into her arms upon it.
At the door toward which he tuma Bartlett
meets General Wyatt, and et moment later
Mrs. Wyatt entera hy the other. Bartlett
reooila under the concentrated reproach and
inquiry of their gaze.

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Gj!nekal Wyatt, Mbs. Wyatt, Constance,
aiid Baetlett.

Mrs. Wyatlf hastening to bow herself
over Conatance's fallen head.— "Oh, what
ia it, CoDstance?" As Constance makes no
reply, ehe lifts her eyes again to Bartlett's

General W^atl, peremptorily. — "Well,

Bartleli, with bitter desperation,. — "Oh,
yon shall know I"

Constance, interposing. — "I will tell!
You shall be spared that, at least. " She
has risen, and with her face still hidden in
her handkerchief, seeks her father with an
outstretched Iiand. He tenderly gathers
her to his arms, and she droops a moment
■upon his shoulder; then, with an electrical
revolt against her own weakness, she lifts
her head and dries her tears with a passion-

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180

ate energy. " He^Oh, speak for mt !"
Her head falla agaia on her father's
shoulder.

Batilett, with grave irony and self-sconi.
—"It's a simple matter, sir; 1 have been
telling Miss Wjatt that I love her, and
offering to share witJi her my obscurity ajid
poverty. I "—

Oeiteral WycUl, impatiently. — "Curse your
poverty, air 1 I 'm poor myself. Well ! "

BaT&ett. — "Oh, that's merely the begin-
ning ! I have had the indecency to do this
knowing that what alone rendered me
Eufferabla to her it was a cruel shame for
me to know, and an atrocity for me to pre-

Gentral Wyatt. — " I authorised this know-
ledge on your part when I spoke to your
friend, and before he went away he told me
all he had said to you."

Bartlett, ia the first stages of petrifa^ion.
— " Cumminga ?"

Qeneral Wyatt. — "Yes."

Bardett,^-" Told you that I knew whom
Iwaalike?"

Oeneral WyaU.^"YeB."

Barlktt, very gently. — "Then I think
that man will be lost for keeping his con-

HnjJbvGoOglc

science too clean. Cummings has invented

Mrs. Wyattr — "Jamea, Jamea ! You told
me that Mr. Eartlett didn't know."

General Wyatt, contritely. — "I let you
think ao, Margaret ; I didn't know what
else to do."

Mrs. Wyatt. — " Oh, James I "

Constance. — " Oh, papa I " She turns
with bowed head from her father's arms,
and takes refuge in her mother's embrace.
General Wyatt, released, fetches a compass
round about the parlour, with a face of in-
tense dismay. He pauses in front of his

Oeneral Wyatt. — "Margaret, you must
know the worst now."

Mrs. Wyatt, in gentle reproach, while she
softly caresses Constance's hair. — "Oh, is
there anything worse, James ! "

General Wyatt, hopelessly. — "Yes: I'm
afraid I have been to blame."

BarUetl. — " General Wyatt, let me retire.
I"—

General Wyatt.— "'So,B\r. This concerns
yoo, too, now. Your destiny lias entangled
you with our sad fortunea, and now you
must know them all."

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182 A COnSTERFBM PEBSENTMENT.

Gonsiance, from her mother's ahoulder. —
"Yes, stay, — whatever it la. If yon care
for me, nothing can hurt yoa aiiy more,

General Wyatl. — "Margaret, — Conatance!
If I have been mistaken in what I have done,
you must try aomehow to forgive me ; it was
my tendernesH for you both, mialed me, if
I erred. Sir, let me address my defence to
you. You can aee the whole matter with
clearer eyoa than we." At an imploring
gesture from Bartlett, he turns again to Mra.
Wyatt. " Perliaps you are right, sir. Mar-
garet, when I had made up my mind that
the wretch who had stolen our child's heart
was utterly unfit and unworthy "—

Comlance, starting away from her mothci-
■with a cry. — "Ah, you did drive him from
me then ! I knew, I knew it ! And aitet
all t^ese days and weeks and months that
ieem years and oenturiea of agony, you tell
me that it was you broke my heart 1 No,
no, I never vMl forgive you, father 1
Where is he? Tell me that I Where is my
husband — the huaband you robbed me of!
Did you kill him, when you chose to crush
my life ? Is he dead ? If he's living 1 will
find him wherever he ia. No distance and

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ao danger shall keep me from him. I 'il find
him and fall down before him, and implore
Aim to forgive you, for I neTer can ! Was
this your tendemess for m.e — to drive him
away, and leave me to the pitiless hnmilia-
tionof believing myself deserted; Oh, great
tenderness i "

Oenfral Wyait, confronting her storm
with perfect quiet.— "No, I will give better
proof of my tendernees than that." He
takes from his pocket-book a folded paper
which he hands to his wife : " Margaret, do
yoa know that ■writing?"

Mrs, Wyatt, glancing at the superscription.
— "Oh, too well ! This is to you, James,"

GeTieral Wyatt.^-"lt'a tor yon aow. Read
it."

Mrs. WyAlt, wonderingly unfolding the
piper and then reading.^'"/ confeaa my-
9^ guilty of forging Mryor GuTtaninge's signa-
ture, and in consideration of his ami your own
forbearance, I promise never to see HUs Wyatt
again. I shall always be grateful for your
mercy; and ' — Jamea, James ! It iant
possible ! "

Constance, who has crept nearer and
nearer while her mother has been reading,
Be if drawn by aresiatless fascination. — " No,

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184

it isn't possible ! It 'a false ; it "s a fraud I
I w3l see it." She swiftly poaseasea heraelf
of the paper and soaDS the haiidwritiug for
a moment with a fierce intentness. Then
she flings it wildly away. "Yes, yea, it's
true ! It 's his hand. It 's tme, it 's the only
true thing in this world of lies ! " She totters
away toward the sofa. Bartlett makes a
movement to support her, but she repulses
him, and throws heraelf upon the cushions.

General Wyatt. — "Sir, I am sorry to make
you the victim of a scene. It has been yonr
fate, and no part of my intention. Will you
look at this paper T You don't know ail that
ia in it yet. " He touches it with his foot.

Bartlett, in dull dejection.— "No, I won't
look at it. If it were a, radiaat message
from heaven, I don't see how it could help

Mm. Wyatl. — "I'm afraid you 've made a
terrible mistake, James."

Oemeral Wyatl. — "Margaret I Don't say

Mrs. tTj/oH.— " Yes, it would have been
better to show ua this paper at once,— better
than to keep ua all theae days in this terrible
snEfering."

Ofneral Wyali. — " I waa afraid of greater

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g for you both. I chose sorrow for
Constance rather than the ignominy of
knowing that she had set her heart on so
base a scoundrel. When he crawled in the
ilust thero before me, and whined for pity,
1 revolted from, telling you or iier how vile
he was ; the thought of it seemed to dis-
honour you ; and I had hoped something,
everytliing, from lay girl's aelt-reapect, her
obedienoe, her faith in mc. I never dreamed
that it must come to this."

Mrs. fT^aif, sadly shaltiog her head. — "I
know how well you meant ; but oh, it was
a fatal mistake ! "

Constance, abandoning her refuge among
the cushions, and coming forward to her
father. — "No, mother, it was no mistake 1
I see now how wise and kind and merciful
you have been, papa. You can never iove
me again, I 've behaved so badly ; but if
you'll let me, I will try to live my gratitude
for your mercy at a time when the whole
truth would have killed me. Oh, papa 1
What shaC I say, what shall I do to show
how sorry and ashamed I am ! Let me go
down on my knees to thank you." Her
father catches her to his heart, and fondly
kisaes her again and agMn. " I don't deserve

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13G

it, papa ! You ought to hate me, aad (trive
me from yoa, and never let me see you
again. " She starta away from him as if to
execute upon herself this terrible doom,
when her eye falls upon the letter where
she had thrown it on the floor. " To thiak
how long I have been the fool, the slave of
that— :/eZ(»l / " She stoops upon the paper
with a hawk-like fierceness ; she tears It into
shreds, and strews the fragments about
the room. "Oh, if I could only tear out of
my heart aU thoughts of him, all memory,
all likeness 1 " In her wild soom she has
whirled unheedingly away toward Bartlett,
whom, suddenly confronting, she apparently
addresses in this aspiration ; he opens wide
his folded arms.

Bartlelt. — "And what would you do, then,
with this extraordinary resemblance ? " The
closing circle of his arms involves her and
clasps her to hisheart, from which beneficent
shelter she presently exiles herself a pace or
two, and stands with either hand pressed
against his breast while her eyes dwell with
rapture on his face.

Oonalance.-^" Oh, yoa're not like him, and
you never were 1 "

Jnir(ie(i, with light irony 1 "Ah!"

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NOT AT ALL LIKE, 187

Constance.— " li I had not been blind,
blind, blind, I never could have seen the
slightest Bimilarity. lAkeldm? Never!"

Bartiett,—" Ah I Then perhaps the re-
semblance, which we have uoticed from time
to time, aod which has been the cauae of some
aimoyanGe and embarrassment all round,
was simply a disguiBS which I hacl assumed
for the time being to accomplish a, purpose
of my own?"

Gi^BStance. — "Oh, don't jest it away ! It's
your soul that I see now, your true and brave
and generous heart ; and if yoa pardoned me
for mistaking yon a single moment for one
who had neither soul nor heart, I could
never look yon in the face again ! "

Barllelt. — "You seem to be taking a
good provisional glare at me beforehand,
then, Miss Wyatt. I 've never been so
nearly looked ont of coantenance in my life.
Bnt you needn't be afraid ; I shall not
pardon your crime." Constance abruptly
drops her bead upon his breast, and again
instantly repels herself.

Oonstance. — "No, you must not if you
could. But you can't — you can't care for
me after hearing what I could say to my
father " —

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188 A COtTNTEHBBIT FRBSBNTMENT.

BanletL—"Tniit was in a moment of
great excitement."

Constance. — " After hearing me rave about
a man so unworthy of — any one— you cared
for. No, your aetf-respect — everytJiing — de-
manils tliat you should caat me off."

BarlleU. — " It does. But I am inexorable,
^you mnat have observed the trait before.
In this case I will not yield even to my own
coloaaal self- respect." Earnestly: "Ah,
Constance, do you think I coald love you
the lesB heoauae your heart was too true to
Bwerve even from a traitor till he was proved
as false to honoor aa to you ? " Lightly
agmn ! " Come, I like your fideKty to
worthless people i I 'm rather a deep and
darkling villain myself."

Constance, devoutly.— " You! Oh, you are
as nobly frank and open as — as — as papa ! "

Sartfew.— " No, Conatan y ar wrong,
for once. Hear my d I 'm

not what I aeem., — g an ojous

creature I look, — I 'm jI Took.

Three short years ag I w ghttully

jilted" — they all turn po m rprise

— ' ' by a young pera h j, ry to

say, hasn't yet consoled me by turning out a
scamp. "

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Constance, drifting to his side with s.
radiant smile. — "Oh, I 'm so glad."

Bartktl, with aifeoted dryness. — "Are
yon ? I didn't know it waa such a laughing
matter. I waa always disposed to take
those things seriously."

Gonstance. — "Yes, yes! But don't you
see ? It places ns ou more of an equality. "
She looks at him with a smile of rapture and
logic exquisitely compact.

BoriZeW.— " Does it! But you 're not half
aa happy as I am."

ConsbXTux.—" Oh yea, I am! Twice."

BartUtt. — " Then that maies us just even,
for BO am I." They stand ridiculously blest,
holding each other's hand a moment, and
then Conatance, still clinging to one of his
hands, goes and rests her other aim upon her
mother's shoulder.

Constance. — "Mamma, how wretched I
have made yoa, all these months ! "

Mra. Wyatt. — "If your trouble's over
now, my child,"— she tenderly kisses her
cheek, — "there's no trouble for yourmotiei-
in the world."

Constance. — " But I 'm not happy, mamma.
I can't he happy, thinking how wickedly
unhappy I 've been. No, no ! I had better

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190

go back to the old wretched atate again ;
it 'a all I 'm fit for. I 'm so ashamed of my-
self. Send hhn away!" She renews her
hold upon his hand.

Barlktt.^" Nothing of the kind. I was
requested to remiun here six weeks ago, by
a young lady. Eesides, thia is a pubhc
house. Come, I haven't finished the cata-
logue of my disagreeable qualities yet. I 'm
jealous. I want you to put that arm on my
shoulder." He gently effeota the desired
ti'ansfer, uid then, chancing bo look up, he
discovers the 'Rev. Arthur Cumminga on the
threshold in the act of modestly retreating.
He detains him with a great melodramatic
start. " Hah ! A clergyman ! This is
indeed oi

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THE PAELOTJE CAR.
A FARCE.

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THE PARLOUR CAE.

A FARCE.

ScBNB; A ParloKr Car on Ihe New Y<irk
C&Ural Baitroad. It it late ajlenuum in
(he early aufumn, vrilh a ctoudy eunsft
threatening rain. The tar is unocca^ed
save hy a gtiiiiemaa, who ails fronting one
of the windows, viiOi hie feet in another
eftair ; a newspaper lies across his lap ; hie
hat is dravm down over his eyes, and he is
apparently asleep. The rear door if tlie
car opens, and the conductor enters with a
young lady, heavily veiled, the porter coming
lifter with her wraps and traselling-bage.
Tlie lady's air is if mingled an^^y and
desperation, tdlh a certain ferceness of
movement. She casts a careless glance over
the empty chairs.

Conductor. — " Here 'a your ticket, madam.
You can have any of the places you like here,
or,"— glancing at the uneonaoioiia gentleman,
and then at the young lady —"if you prefer,

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yoa can go and take that seat in the forward

Miss Lacy Galhraith.—" Oh, I eao't ride
backwardB, 1 11 stay here, please. Thank
you." The porter placea her things in a
chair by a window, aoroae the car from the
sleeping gentleman, and she throws herself
wearily into the next seat, wheels round in
it, and lifting her veil gazra absently out at
the landfloape. Her face, which is very
pretty, with a low forehead shadowed by
thick, blonde h^, shows the traces of tears.
She mokes Eearch in her pocket for her
handkerchief, which sha presses to her eyes.
The conductor, lingering a moment, goes out.

Porter, — "111 be right here, at de end
of de cah, if you should happen to want
anything, miss," — making a feint of arrang-
ing the shawls and satchels. "Should you
like some dese things hung up! Well,
deyll be jus' as well in de chair. We's
pretty late dis afternoon ; more 'n four hours
behin' time. Ought to been into Albany
'fore dis. Freight train off de track jns'
dis side o' Eooheater, an' had to w^t. Was
you goin' to stop at Schenectady, miss?"

Miss O., absently. — "At Schenectady?"
After a pause, "Yes."

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i'orfer.—" Well, that's de next station,
and den de caha don't stop ag'in till dey git
to Albany. Anything else I can do for you

MUs G. — "No, no, thank you, aotlung,"
The porter hesitates, takes off his cap, and
scratches hia head with a nnirmur of em-
barrassment. Miss Galbrajth looka up at
him inquiringly, and then suddenly takes out
her porte-monnaie and fees him.

Porter. ^" Thank you, miss, thank you.
If you want anything at all, miss, I 'm right
derc at de end of de cah." He goes out by
the narrow passage' way beside the smaller en-
closed parlour. Miss Galhmith looks askance
at tho sleeping gentleman, and then, rising,
goes to the large mifror, to pin her veil,
which has become loosened from, her hat.
She gives a little starts at sight of the gentle-
man in the mirror, but arranges her head-
gear, and returning to her place looks out of
the window again. After a little while she
moves about uneasily in her chair, then leans
forward and tries to raise her window ; she
lifts it partly up, when the catch slips from
her fingera and the window falls shut again
with a craah,

Mis^ G. — " dear, how provoking ! I sup-

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196

pose I must call the porter." She rises from
her aeat, but on attempting to move away
abe Unds that the akJrt of her polooaiae has
been canght in the falling window. She
pulls at it, and then tries to lift the window
again, but the cloth has wedged it in, and
she cannot stir it. " Well, I certainly think
this is beyond endurance ! Porter ! Ah —
porter 1 Oh, ha 'II never hear me in the
racket that these wheels are making ! I wish
they 'd stop — I " —

The gentleman stirs in hia chair, lifts his
head, listens, takes his feet down from the
other seat, rises abruptly, and comes to Miss
Galbraith'a aide.

Mr. Alien RicIiard3.—"'Vii'[\ you allow
me to open the window for you ?" Starting
back, " Miss Gaihraith ! "

Misg G. — " Al — Mr. Bichards ! " There
IB a sileace for some momenta, in which they
remun looking at each other ; then,

Mr. Richards.— "'Lacy" —

Miu O. — "I forbid you to address me in
tiiatway, Mr. Eichards,"

Mr. S. — "Why, you were just going to
call me Allen !"

JtfJss O. — "That waa an accident, you
know very well — an impulse "

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197

Mr. ^.— "Wdl, BO is this."

Mms O. — "Of which you ought to be
ashamed to take advantage. I wonder at
your presumption in speaking to me at all.
It's quite idle, I can. assure you. Every-
thing is at an end between us. It aeema
that I bore with you too long ; but I 'm
thankful that I had the spirit to act at last,
and to act in time. And now that chance
baa thrown us together, I trust that you will
not force your conversation upon me. No
gentleman would, and I have always pven
you credit for thinking yourself a gentleman.
I reqnest that yon will not speak to me."

Mr. if.— "You've spoken ten words to
me for every one of mine to you. But I
won't annoy you. I can't believe it, Lucy ;
I can mo; believe it. It seems like some
rascally dream, and if I had had any sleep
since it happened, I should think I had
dreamed it."

Miaa 6. — " Oh 1 You were sleeping
soundly enough when I got into the car 1 "

Mr. S.—" I own it ; I was perfectly used
np, and I had dropped off,"

Miss 0., scornfully. — "Then perhaps you
have dreamed it."

Mr. .B.— "Ill think bo till you tell me

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^ain that our engagement is broken ; that
the faithful love of years is to go for nothing ;
that you diamisa me with cruel insult, with-
out one word of explanation, without a word
of intelligible accusation, even. It 'a too
much 1 I 've been thinking it all over and
over, and I can't make head or tail of it. I
meant to see you again as soon as we got to
town, and implore you to hear me. Come,
it 'a a mighty serious matter, Lucy. I 'lu
not a man to put on heroics and that ; hat I
believe it'll play the very deuce with me,
Lucy, — that is to say, Miss Galhtaith,—! do
indeed. It 11 give nte a low opinion of

Miss 0., averting her face. — "Oh, a very
high opinion of woman you have had ! "

Mt. R., with sentiment.^" Well, there
was one vroman whom I thouglit a perfect

5fift9 O. — " Indeed 1 May I ask her

Mr. R., with a forlorn smile. — "I shall
be obliged to describe her somewhat formally
as — Miaa Galbraith."

Miaa G.— " Mr, Eichards !"

Mr. R. — "Why, you've just forbidden
me to say Lticy. Yon must tell me, dearest.

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193

what I have done to offend you. The worst
criininals are not condemned unheard, and
1 've always thought you were merciful if not
just. And now I only aak you to he Just."

Miss 0., looking out of the window. —
"You know very well what you've done.
You can't expect me to humiliate myaeif by
putting your ofience into words."

Mr. Jt. — "Upon my soul, I don't know
what yoii mean ! I don't know what I 've dona.
When yon came at me, last night, with my
ring and presents and other little traps, you
might have knocked me down with the
lightest of the lot. I was perfectly dazed ;
I couldn't say anything before you were off,
and all I could do was to hope tliat you 'd
be more like yourself in the morning. And
in the morning, when I came round to Mrs.
Phillips's I found yon were gone, and I came
after yon by the next train."

Miss 0. — "Mr. Richards, your personal
history for the last twenty-four hours is a
matter of j)erfect indifference to me, aa it
shall be for the next twenty-four hundred
years. I see that you are resolved to annoy
me, and since you will not leave the oar, /
must do so." She rises haughtily from her
seat, but the imprisoned skirt of her polonaise

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do!"

Mr. R. , dryly. — ' ' You aliall do whatever
you like, Miaa Galbraith, when I 've set yoa
free ; for I see your dress is caught in the
window. When it 'b once out, I '11 shut the
window, and you can eail the porter to raise
it." Ha leans forward over her chair, and
while she shrinke back the length of her
tether, ha tugs at the window-fastening.
"I can't get at it. Would you be so good
aa to stand up, — all you can?" Mias Gal-
braith stands up, droopingly, and Mr.
Richards makes a movement towards her,
and then falls back. " No, that won't do.
Please sit down again," He goes round her
chair and tries to get at the window from
that side. " 1 can't get any purchase on it.
Why don't you cut out that piece?" Miss
Oatbnuth stares at him in dumb amazement.
" Well, I don't see what we 're to do. I '11
go and get the porter. " He goes to the end
of the car, and returns. "I can't find the
porter — he must be in one of the other cars.
But" — brightening with the fortunate con-
cejiiaoQ— " I 've juat thought of something.
Will it nnbuttfln!"

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Misa G. — " Unlratton ! "

Mr. B, — "Yes ; this garment of yours,"

Miss 0.~" My polonaiae!" Inqiiiringly ;
"Y*s."

Mr. a— "Well, then, it's a very aimple
matter. If you will juat take it off I can

Miss O,, fadntly. — " I can't, A polonaise
isn't like an overcoat "—

Mr.n., with dismay.— "Oh! Well, then"

less perplexity.

Miss 6., with polite ceremony. — "The
porter will be back soon. Don't trouble
yourself any further about it, please, I shall
do very well."

Mr. R., without heeding her. — "If you
could kneel on that foot-cushion and face the
window " —

Mm 0., kneeling promptly.. — " So?'

Mr. R — "Yes, and now" — kneeling be-
side her — "if you '11 allow meto—togetat
the window catch," — he stretches both arms
forward; she shrinks from hia right into hia
left, and then back again, — ' ' and pull, while
I laXsB the window" —

Misa 0.—" Yes, yea ; but do hurry, please.
If any one saw us, I don't know what they

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would, think. It 's perfectlj nJioulous —
pulling. "It 's caught in the comet o£ tl e
window, between the frame and tha saah
and it won't come ! Is my iiair troublmg
you ? Is it in your eyea '

Hi: E. — "It's in mj ejes but it isn t
troubling me. Am I mconvemencing j on '

.ifi»!(7.— "Oh, notatal]

Mr. Ji.— "Well, now then p dl hard
He lifts the window n ith a great effort tl f
polonaise comes . free with a start ^nd hIil
siriUeB violently against him. In supporting
the ahock he cannot forbear catching her for
an instant to his heart. She frees herself,
and starts indignantly to her feet.

Miss O. — "Oh, what a. cowardly — sub-
terfuge !"

Mr. S. — "Cowardly! You've no idea
how much courage it toot." Miaa Galbraith
puts her handkerchief to her face and sobs.
"Oh, don't cry! Bless my heart — I'm
sorry I did it ! But you know how dearly
I love you, Lucy, though I do think you 've
been cruelly unjust. I told you I never
should love anyone else, and I never shall.
I couldn't help it, upon my soul I couldn't.
Nobody could. Don't let it vex you, my "—
He approaches her.

I y Google

You have no longer

do BO."

Mr. S. — " You niiaiiiterpret a veryinoffen-
aivB gesture. I have no idea of touching
you, but I hope I may be allowed, as a
apaoial favour, to — pick up my hat, which
you are in the act of stepping on." Miss
Galbraith hastily turns, and strikes the hat
with her whirUng skirts ; it rolls to the
other side of the parlour, and Mr. Richards,
whogOBsafter it, utters anironieal "Thanks!"
He brushes it and puts it on, looking at her
where she has agwn seated herself at the
window with her back to him, and continues,
*' Ab for any further molestation from me" —
Mias O.— " If you viill talk to me "—
Mr. R. — "Excuse me, I am not talking

Miss G. — "What were you doing!"

Mr. 5,— "I was beginning to think aloud.
I — I was soliloquising. I suppose I may be
allowed to soliloc[uiae ?"

Miss O., very coldly. — " You can do what
you like."

Mr. B. — " TTnfortunately that 'a just what
I can't do. If r could do aa I liked, I should
ask you a, single question. "

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204 THE PABLOUE CAE.

Miss (?., after a moment.— " Well, sir,
yott may oak your question." She remaina
OB before, with her chin in her hand, looking
tearfully out of the window ; her face ie
turned from Mr. Gicharde, who heeitates a.
moment, before he speaks.

Afr, B. — " I wish to aak you just this,
Miss Gaibraith ; if you couldn't ride back-
warda in the other car, why do you ride
backwards in this ! "

Misn 0, , burying her face in her handker-
chief, and sobbing.^" Oh, oh, oh ! This is
too bad!"

Mr. S, — " Oh, come now, Lncj. It
breaks ray heart to hear you going on so,
and all for nothing. Be a little merciful to
both of us, and listen to me. I Ve no doubt
I can explain everything if I once under-
stand it, but it 'b pretty hard explaining a
thing if you don't understand it yourself.
Do turn round. I know it makes you sick
to ride in that way, and if you don't want
to face me — there 1 " — wheeling in his chair
BO as to turn his back upon her — ' ' you needn't.
Though it 's rather trying to a fellow's polite-
nesa, not to mention his other feelings.
Now, what in the name "—

Porter, who at thia moment enters with

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205

his step-ladder, and begins to light the
Ismpa. — " Going pretty alow ag'in, sali."

Mr. R, — "Yea; what 'a the trouble 7 "

Porter. — "Well, I don't know exactly,
sah. Something de matter wltli de locomo-
tive. We shan't he into Albany much 'fore
eight o'clock."

Mr. B, — " What 'b the next Btation ! "

Porter. — " Schenectady."

Mr. B. — "Is the whole train aa empty as
this car?"

Porter, laughing. — "Well no eah Fact
is, dis cab don't belong on dis train It s
a Pullman that we hitched on wht.u you
got in, and we's taking it along for one
of de Eastern roads V, e let j uu m tause
de Drawing-rooma » as all full '^ame w ith
de lady " — looking sympatheticalij at her
as be takes up his steps to go out Can I
do anything for you now mias '

MisH G. , plaintii ely — ' No thank you
nothing whatever.' bhe haa turned while
Mr. Richards and the porter have been speak-
ing, and now faces the back of the former,
hut her veil ia drawn cloaely. The porter
goes out.

Mr. a., wheeling round so as to con-
front her. — "I wish you would speak to

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206

me half as kindly as you <lo to that
darky, Lucy."

Mies Q. — " He is a gentlemftn ! "
Mr. R. — "He is an urbane and well-
informed nobleman. At any rate, he 'b a
man and a brother. But so am I." Miss
Galbraath does not reply, and after a pause
Mr. Richards resumes. "Talking of gentle-
men ; I recollect, once, coming up on the
day-boat to Poughkeepsie, there was a poor
devil of a tipay man kept following a young
fellow about, and annoying him to death —
trying to fight him, as a tipsy man will,
and insisting that the young fellow had
insulted him. By-and-by he lost his balance,
and went overboard, and the other jumped
after him and fiahed him out." Sensation
on the part of Miss Oalbraith, who stirs
uneasily in her chair, looks out of the win-
dow, then looks at Mr. EJchards, and drops
her head. "There was a young lady on
board, who had seen the whole thing— a very
charming young lady indeed, with pale
blonde hwr growing very thick over her
forehead, and dark eyelashes to the sweetest
blue eyes in the world. Well, this young
lady's papa was amongst those who came up
to say civil things to the yonng fellow when

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207

he got aboard again, and to ask the honour
— he said the honour — of his auijuaintanee.
And when he came out of his state room in
dfy clothee, thia infatttated old g<mtleman
was waiting for him, and took him and
introduced him to his wife and daughter.
And the daughter said, with tears in her
eyes, and a perfectly intoxicating inipuUive-
ness, that it was the grandest and the moat
heroic and the noblest thing that she ha<i
ever seen, and she should always he a better
girl for having seen it. Excuse me, Miss
Galbraith, for troubling you with these facts
of a personal history which, as you aay, is a
matter of perfect indifference to you. The
young fellow didn't think at the time he had
done anything extraordinary ; but I don't
suppose he did expect to live to have the
same giil tell him he was no gentleman. "

MUa 0., wildly.— "Oh, Allen, Allen!
You kimiB I think you are a gentleman, and
I always did !"

Mt. B., languidly.— " Oh, I merely had
year word for it, just now, that you didn't.'
Tenderly. — " Will you hear me, Lucy ? "

MmO., faintly.— "Yes,"

Mr. fl.— "Well, what is it I've done!
Will you tell me if I guess right ? "

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Miss G., with dignity.— "I am in no
hunioar for jesting, Allen. And J can aasutre
you that though I eonsent to hear what you
have to say, or ask, nothing will change niy
determination. All is over between us."

Mr. i?.— "Yes, I understand that per-
fectly. I am now ashing merely for general in-
formation, r do not expect you to relent, and
in fact I should consider itrath fn olons f
you did. No. What I have alwaj b ad ni ed
in your character, Lucy, ia a fim 1 gi al
consistency ; a cleamesB of m ntal n

that leaves no side of a subje t u ea I ed
and an unwavering constancy of purpo
You may say that these traits a harai^te
istic of art women ; hut they are p n ntlj
characteriatio of you, Lucy Misa I al
braith looha aekonce at him t make out
whether he is in earnest or not h nt nue
with a perfectly serious air. "And I know
now that if you 're oiTended with me, it 'a
for no trivial cause." She stirs uncomfort-
ably in her chair. ' ' What I have done I can't
imagine, but it must b th g t

since it has made If w th m ppe
impossible that you are ady to flmg aw y
your own happines — f Ik y Id

love me, Lucy — and 1 troy I w U

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THE PABL0G8 CAB. 209

begin with the worst thing I can think of.
Was it because I danced BO miieh with
Founy Watervliet ? "

Miss G., indignantly.— " How can you
insult me by supposing that I could be
jealous of snob a perjecl little gooBO as that ?
Ko, Allen ! Whatever I think of you, I stitl
respect you too much for that."

Mr. R.^" I 'm glad to hear that there are
yet depths to which yon think me iucapable
of deseending, and that Miss Watejrliet is
one of them. I will now take a little higher
ground. Perhaps you think I flirted with
Mrs. Dawes. I thought, myself, that the
thing might begin to have that appearance,
but I give you my word of honour that as
soon as the idea occurred to me, I dropped
her, — rather rudely, too. The trouble was,
don't you know, that I felt so perfectly safe
with a marrieil friend of yours. I couldn't
be hanging about you all the time, and I
was afraid I might vei you if I went
with the other girls ; and I didn't know
what to do."

Miss 0, — "I think you beliaved rather ,
silly, giggling so much with her. But "^

Mr. E. — " I own it, I know it was silly.

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210

Miss 6.~" It wasn't that; it wasn't that !"

Mr. R. — "Was it my forgetting to bring
yon those things from your mother ! "

jfftssG.— "N"o!"

Mr. R. — "Was it heoause I hadn't given
up smoking yet f "

Miss O. — "You kaovi I never aalced you
to give np smoking. It was entirely your
own proposition."

Mr. .S. — "That's true. That's what
made me so easy about it. I knew I could
leave it o£E any time. Well, I wil! not dis-
turb you amy longer, Miss Galbraith." He
throws his overcoat across his arm, and
takes up his travelling-bag. ' ' I have failed
to gaess your fatal — conundrum ; and I have
DO longer any excuse for remaining. 1 am
going into the smoking-car. Shall I send
the porter to you for anything ? "

Miss 0. — ' ' No, thanks. " She puts up
her handkerchief to her face.

Mr. R. — "Lucy, do yoa send me away ?"

MissO., behind het handkerchief. — "You
were going, yourself, "

Mr. R., over hie shoulder.—" ShaJl I come

Miss Q. — "I have no right to drive yon
from the car. "

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211

Mr. B., coming liack, and sitting down in
tlie chair nearest her.— "Lucy, dearest, tell
me what's the matter."

Mias a.^"Oh, Allen, your not baowing
makes it all the more hopeless and killing.
It shows me that we tnust part ; that you
would go on, breaking my heart, and grind-
ing me into the duet as long as we lived."
She sobs, "It shows mo that you never
understood me, and you never wiiZ. I know
you 're good and kind and all that, but that
only makes your not understanding me so
much the worse. I do it quite as much tor
yoor sake as my own, Allen. "

Mr. R. — "I 'd much rather you wouldn't
pat yourself out on my aoconnt. "

MUs O,, without regarding him.— " If yon
could mortify me before a whole roomful
of people as you did last night, what could
I expect after marriage but continual

Mr. B., in ama^ment. — "How did I
mortify you ? I thought that I treated you
with all the tenderness and aifection that a
decent regard for the feelings of others would
allow. I was ashamed to find I couldn't
keep away from you."

Mka O.—" 0, you were attentive enough.

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212 ;

Allen ; nobody denies that. Attentive
enough in non-essentials. yea ! "

Mt, fi.— "Well, what vital matters did
I fail in! I'm sure I can't remember."

Mks O. — "I dare say 1 I dare say they
won't appear vital to you, Allen. Nothing
does. And if I had told you, I should have
been met with ridicule, I suppose. But I
knew belter than to tell ; I respected myself
too mvth, "

Mr. S. — "But now you mustn't respect
yourself gaite bo much, dearest. And I
promise you I won't laugh at the most
serious thing. I 'm in no humour for it. If
it were a matter of life and death, even, I
can assure you that it wouldn't bring a smile
to my countenance. No, indeed ! If you
expect me to laugh, now, you must say some-
thing particularly funny. "

jHise G, — " I was not going to say any-
thing /tmny, as you call it, and I wilt say
nothing at all, if you talk in that way. "

Mr. £.— "Well, I won't, then. But do
you know what I suspect, Lucy ! I wouldn 't
mention it to everybody, but I will to you — -
in strict confidence ; I suspect that you 're
rather ashamed of your grievance, if you
have any. I suspect it 'a nothing at all."

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THE PARLOUR CAR. 213

Miss G., very sternly at first, with a
rising hysterical inflection. — " Nothing,
Allen ! Do you call it nothing, to have Mra.
Dawes come ont with all that about your
ai^cident on your way up the river, and ask
me if it didn't frighten me terribly to hear
of it, even after it was all over ; and I had
to Bay yoii hadn't told me a word of it?
'Why, Lucy I'" — angrily mimicking Mrs.
Dawes—" 'you must teach him better than
that. I mate Mr. Dawes tell me everything.'
Little simpleton ! And then to have them
all langh— oh dear, it's too much !"
ifr. B. — "Why, my dear Lucy — "
Miss O,, interrupting him.^" I saw just
howitwaa going to be, and I'm thankful,
ili/iniifiil that it happened. I saw that you
didn't care enough for me to take me into
your whole life ; that you despised and dis-
trusted me, and that it would get worse and
worse to the end of onr days ; that we should
grow further and further apart, and I should
be left moping at home, while you ran about
making confidantes of other women whom
you considered vxtrtky of your confidence.
Itall/as7(aJ upon me in an instant; and I
resolved to break with jou, then and there ;
and I did, just as soon as ever I conld go to

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my room for your things, and I 'in glad,—
yra, — hu, hu, hu, hu, htt i — so glad I did
it I"

ifr, H., grimly. — "Your joy is obvious.
May I aak^"

Miss G.—" Oh, it wasn't the first proof you
had given me how little you really cared for
me, but I was determined it should be the
last. I dare say you Ve forgotten them ! I
dare say you don't remember telling Mamie
Morris tbat you didn't like crocheted cigar-
cases, when you 'd just told me that you did,
and let me be such a fool as to commence one
for you ; but I 'm thankful to say that went
into the fire, — yea, instantly! And I dare
say you 've forgotten that you didn't tell me
your brother's engagement was to be kept,
and let me come out with it that night at
the Rudgea' and then looked perfectly
aghast, so that everybody thought I had
been blabbing ! Time and again, Alleu, you
have made me suffer agonies, yes, agonies ;
but your power to do so ia at an end. I am
freeand happy at last. " She weeps bitterly.

ifr. S., quietly. — "Yes, I had forgotten
those crimes, ajtd I suppose many similar
atrocities. I own it, I am forgetful and
oareleaa. I was wrong about those things.

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215

I ought to have told you why I said that to
MisM Morris ; I was airaid alio was going to
work me one. As to that accident I told
Mrs, Dawes of, it wasn't worth mentioning.
Our boat aimply walked over a sloop in the
night, ajid nobody was hurt. I shouldn't
have thought twice about it, if alie hadn't
happened to brag of their paasing uloae to an
iceberg on their way home from Europe ;
then I trotted out mp pretty-near diaaster as
a match for hers, — confound her ! I wish
the iceberg had sunk them ! Only it wouldn't
have sunk her, — she's so light 1 ahe'd have
gone bobbing all over the Atlantic Ocean,
like a cork ; she 'a got a perfect life-preaerver
in that mind of hers." Mias Galbraith gives
a little laugh, and then a little moan. ' ' But
since you are happy, I will not repine, MisB
Galbraith. I don't pretend to be very
happy myself, but then, I don't deserve it.
Since you are ready to let an absolutely un-
conacious offence on my part cancel all the
past ; aince you let my devoted love weigh
as nothing againat the momentary pique that
a nuilicioas little rattle-pate — she was vexed
at my leaving her — could make you feel, and
choose to gratify a wicked resentment at the
coat of any aufFering to me, why, / can be

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MisD G., springing fiercely to her feet. —
"Go, indeed! Renounce me! Be so good
as to remember that you haven't got me to

Mr. ff.-" Well, it's all the same thing.
I'd renounce you if I had. Good evening.
Miss GalbrMtli. I will send back your
presents as soon as I get to town ; it won't
be necessary to acknowledge them. I hope
we may never meet again." He goes out of
the door towards the front of the oar, but
returns directly, and glances uneasily at
Miss Galbraith, who remains with her
handkerchief pressed to her eyes. "Ah— a
— that is — I shall be obliged to intrude upon
you again. The fact is — "

Miss O., anxiously. — "Why, the cars have
stopped ! Are we at Schenectady!"

Mr. ^.— "Well, no; not exadly ; not
exactly at Sdiettuctady "—

Miss 0. — "Then what station is this?
Have they carried me by ? Observing his
embarrasHment, ' ' Allen, what is the matter ?
What has happened ? Tell me instantly !
Are we off the track ? Have we run into

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another train ? Have we broken through, a
bridge ? Shall we he burnt alive ? Tell me,
Allen, tell me, — I can bear it ! — are we
telescoped ?" She wrings her hands in

Mt. R., unsympathetically. — "Nothing of
the kind has happened. This car has simply
come uncoupled, and the rest o£ the train has
gone on ahead, and left us standing on the
track nowhere in particular. " He leans back
in hia chair, and wheels it round from her.

MissG., mortified, yet anxious. — "Well?"

Mr. /;.— "WeE, until they miss us, and
run back to pick us up, I shall be obliged to
ask your indulgence. I will try not to dis-
turb you ; I would go out and stand on the
platform, but it 's raining. "

Mm G., listening to the rain-fall on the
roof.— "Why, bo it is!" Timidly, "Did
you notice when the car stopped?"

Mr. R.~"'No." He riaes and goes out
at the rear door, comes back, and sits down

Misa O. rises and goes to the large mirror
to wipe away her tears. She glances at Mr.
Kicharda, who does not move. She sits
down in a seat nearer him than the chair
she has left. After some faint ni

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218

hesitatioDB, she asks, "Will you please tell
me why you went out just now?"

Mr. R., with indifference.— "Yes. I
went to see if the rear signal was ont."

Misa G., after another hesitation.^
"Why"

Mr B — ' Because, if it wasn't out,
some tram might ran into ua from tliat
direetion

Vtss O, tremulouslj — "Oh! And was
it»"

Mr. R., dryly.— \ea.

Miss G. returns to her former place with
a wounded Mr, and for a moment neither
speaks. Finally she asks very meekly.
"And there's no danger from the front !"

Mr. R.. coldly.— "No."

Miss G. , after some little noises and move-
ments meant to catoh Mr. B.'s attention.—
' ' Of eoursB, I never meant to imply that
you were inlaitionaUi/ careless or forgetfnl."

Mr, R., still very coldly.— "Thank you."

Misa Q. — "I always did justice to your
good-heartednBBH, Allen ; you 're perfectly
lovely that way ; and I know that you
would be sorry if you hnewr you had wounded
my feelings, however accidentally." She
droops her head so aa to catch a sidelong

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THE PASLOUR CAB. 219

glimpse of his face, and sighs, ivhile she
nervously pinches the top of her parasol,
resting the point on the floor. Mr. R,
makes no answer, "That about the cigar-
caae might have been a mistake ; I saw tliat
myself, and, as you explain it, why, it was
certainly very kind and very creditable to —
to your thoughtf ulneas. It aias though tfull "

jT/r. S,~"l am grateful for your good
opinion."

Mis3 G. — "But do you think it was
exactly — it was quite— nice, not to tell me
that your brother's engagement was to be
kept, when you know, Allen, I can't boar to
bhmder in such things?" Tenderly, "Do
you? You can't say it was! "

Mr. if.— "I never said it was."

Jlfi8aa,plaiiitively.~"No,Allen. That's
what I always admired in your character.
You always owned up. Don't you think
it 's easier for men to own up than it is for

Mr. R. — "I don't know. I never knew
any woman to do it."

Miis Q. — "0 yea, Allen I You know I
often, own up."

itfV. .R.— "No, Idon't."

Mies G. — "Oh, how caji you beav to say

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so ? When I 'm raah, or anything of that
kind, you know I acknowledge it."

Mr. B. — " Do you acknowledge it now ? "

Miaa G. — " Why, how can I, when 1

haven't been rash? What have I been rash

Mr. R. — "About the cigar-case, for
eiample. "

MissO "OhI Thai! That was a great

while ago I I thought you meant something
quite recent. " A sound as o£ the approach-
ing train is heard in the distance. She givea
a start, and then leaves her chair again for
one a little nearer his. " I thcught perhaps
yon meant about — last night."

Mr. i?.— "Well!"

Jfws G. , very judicially. — " I don't think it
was rash exactly. No, not rask. It might
not have been very kind not to — to — trust
you more, when I knew that you didn't mean
anything ; but — No, I took the only course
I could. ,S?bbody could have done differently
under the circumstances. But if I caused
yon any pain, I 'm very sorry ; yea, very
sorry indeed. But I was not precipitate,
and I know I did right. At least I tried to
act for the best. Don't you believe I did ! "

Mr. It "Why, if you have no doubt

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221

upon the subject, my opinion ia of no con-
sequeiice. "

Miss 0.— " Yes. Butwiiatdo you think?
If you think differently, and can malce me
Bee it differently, oughtn't yon to do so ? "

Mr. E. — "I don't see why. As you say,
all ia over between ua."

Miss 0. — "Yes." After a pause, "I
should suppose you would care enough for
yov,rsdf to wish, me to look at the matter
from the right point of view."

Mr. ii.— "I don't."

Miss 6,, becoming more and more uneasy
as the noise of the approaching train grows
louder. — " I think you have been veiy quick
with me at times, quite sa quick as I could
have been with you last night." The noise
is mora distinctly heard. "I'm sure that
if I could once see it as you do, mo one would
be more willing to do anything in their
power to atone for their rashness. Of
course I know that everything is over."

Mr, S. — "As to that, I have your word;
and, in view of the fact, perhaps this ana-
lysis of motive, of character, however in
tereating on general grounds, is a little " —

Mits 0., with sudden violence.—" Say it,
and take your revenge I I have put myself

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222

at your feet, and you do right to trample on
me ! O, thia is what women may expect
when they trust to men's generosity ! Well,
it is over now, and I 'm thankful, thankful !
Cruel, supieioaB, vindictive, you 're all alike,
and I 'm glad that I 'm no longer subject to
your heartless caprices. And I don't care
what happens after thia, I shall always —
Oh 1 You 're sure it 'a from the front, Allen?
Are you sure the rear signal is out?"

Mr. B., relenting.- — "Yea, but if it will
case your mind, I '11 go and look again." He
rises aud starts towards the rear door.

Jlfisa G., q^oiokly.^"0 no! Don't go ! I
can't bear to be left alone 1 " The sound of
the approaching train continuaJly increases
in volume. "O, isn't it coming very, very,
vtry fast t "

Mr. R. — "No, no ! Don't be frightened."

Miss (?., running towards the rear door.
—"0, I nmsl get out ! It wiD kill me, I
know it will. Come with me ! Do, do ! "
He runs after her, and her voice is heard at
the rear of the oar. " 0, the outside door
is locked, and we are trapped, trapped,
trapped 1 0, quick I Let 's try the door at
the other end." They re-enter the parlour,
and the roar of the train announces that it is

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223

upon them. ' ' No, no ! It 's too late, it 'a too

late ! I 'm a wicked, wicked girl, and this ia

alltopuuiah me ! O, it 's coming, it 'a coming

at fnli speed 1 " He remains bewildered,

confronting her She utters a wild cry, and,

rai nkes the car with a, violent

h flmgB herself into hia arms.

T re Forgive me, Allen ! Let

g lyown, o^ 1 Sh

oa g his breast "\ ar

ea d w and after a 1 ttl d I y th

p rte mm th a. lantern

Ptw(er.^"Eath6r moreof a j h than
meajit to give you, sah ! 'W had t rv
down pretty quick after we m d y d

the rain made the track a little slippery.
Lady much frightened ? "

^iBs (?., disengaging herself . — -"0, not at
all ! Not in the least. We thought it was
a train coming from l>ehind, and going to

Porter.— "Not quite so bad as that.
We '11 be into Schenectady in a few minutes,
mias. 1 11 coma tor your things." He goes
out at the other door.

Mm G., in a fearful whisper, — "Allen I
What will he ever think of us ? I 'm sure he

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Mr. R. — "I don't know what he'll think
now. He did think you were frightened ;
but you told him you were not. However,
it isn't important -what he thinks. Probably
he thinks I 'm yonr long lost brother. It
had a kind of familiar look."

JIfiss O. — " Eidiouloua I"

Mr. S. — "Why, he'd never suppose tliat
I wiB a. jilted lover of yours ! "

Miex O., ruefully.— "No."

Mr. S. — " Come, Lucy,"— taking her
1 d — " wi 1 d t d" 'th roe, a

mm g D hmk an make

p n b I pp w amest

Hhdd p h dhmh rma, a
moment, then she starta awaj from him, as
if aomething had suddenly occurred to her.
Mies G. — "Allen, where are you going?"
Mr. iJ.— "Going! Upon my soul, I
haven't the least idea."

Mi»s O. — " Where were you going ? "
Mr, R.—^" 0, 1 was going to Albany."
Miss G. — "Well, don't I Aunt Mary is
expeclaag me here at Schenectady, — I
telegraphed her, — and I want you to atop

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I'm

Afr. M.—"'WhB.tt"

Miss 6., demurely. — "That I'm good
enough for you."

Mr. R., starting, in biu'iesque of h«r
movement, as if a thoaght had struck him. —
' ' Lucy ! how came you on thia train when
you left Syracuse on the morning express ? "

Miss O.f faintly. — "I waited over a train
at Utica- " She sinks into a chair and averts
her face.

Mr. R. — "May I ask why?"

Miss O., more faintly still. — "I don't like
to tell. I"~

Mr, R., coming and standing in front of
her, with his hands in his pocketfl.-— " Look
me in the eye, Lucy I" She dropa her veil
over her face, and looks up at him. " Did
you— did you expect to find me on this

MisB G. — " I was afraid it never would get
along,— it was so late I"

Mr. B. — "Don't— tergiversate."

jlfjss G. — "Don't lekat?"

Mr.S.~"Fih."

Miss 0. — "Not for worlds !"

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Mr. R. — "How did you know I was in
this cur!"

Mhs O. — " Must I ! I thought I saw yon
through the window ; and tlien I made anre
it was you when I went to pin my veil on, —
I saw you in the mirror."

Mr, B., after a littie silence.— "Miaa
Galbraith, do you want to hnow wliat j/im

Mi»a O., softly. — "Yes, Allen,"

Mr. R. — " You 're a humbug ! "

Mi»& Q., springing from her seat, and
confronting him. — "So are you ! You pre-
tended to he aaleep !"

Mr. ff.--"I— I— I was taken by surprise.
I had to titlie time to think."'

Mit'i (?.— "Sodidl."

Mr. JT.^" And you thought it would be a
good plan to get your polonaise caught in the
window ? "

Mim G., hiding her face on hia shoulder. —
' ' No, no, Allen ! That I never iitiU admit
No woman would !"

Mr. ,fi.— "0, 1 dare say 1" Afterapauae:
" Well, I am a poor, weak, helpless man,
with no one to advise me or counsel me, and
I have been cruelly deceived. How could
you, Lucy, how could you! T can never

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get ovei' this." He drops his head upon her
shoulder.

Miss G., starting away again and looking
about the oar. — "Allen, I have an idea ! Du
you suppose Mr. Puliman could be induced

Mr. «.— "Why?"

Mhs Q. — "Why, because I think it's
perfectly lovely, and I should like to live in
it idwaya. It could be fitted up for a sort of
summec-honse, don't you tnow, and we
could have it in the garden, and you could
smoke in it, "

Mr. W,—" Admirable ! It would look
just like a travelling photographic saloon.
No. Lucy, we won't buy it ; we will simply
keep it as a precious souvenir, a sacred
memory, a beautiful dream,— and let it go
OB fulfilling its destiny all the same."

Porlfr, entering and gathering up Miss
Galbraith's things.—" Be at Schenectady in
half a minute, miss. Won't have much

Misa G., rising and adjuating her dreas,
and then looking about the car, while she
passes her hand through her lover's ainn.~-
"0, Ido7(a(eto!eaveit. Farewell, you dear,
kind, good, lovely oar ! May you never have

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228

another a:cci<leat ! " She kisses her hand to
the car, upon which they both look back
as they slowly leave it.

Mr. R., kissing his hand in Eke manner.
— "Good-bye, sweet chariot! May you
never carry any but bridal couples !"

Mias G. — " Or engaged ones ! "

Mr. B. — "Or husbands going home to

Miss 0.—" Or wives hastening to theiv
hnabande. "

Mt. S. — " Or young ladies who have waited
one train o as to be th tl y g

men they hat

Miss Q.— y g n ha

indiifereiit that th y p te J t I aal p
when the y ing lad m Tl y

pause at th d Ilk ba^k a^

"'Andmu til a th Farad Th y

both kiss their hands to the i.ar again, and
their faces being very close together, they
impulsively kiss each other. Theu Miss
Gaibraith throws back her head, and solemnly
confronts him, " Only think, Allen ! If this
car hadn't broken its engagement, we might
never have mended ours. "

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Full text of "A Counterfeit Presentment, & The Parlour Car"

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