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piness,” said Rose; " I suppose I have all before; but they did now with a and says so, should be of more weight no more right to be happy than other curious mixture of agitation and terror, than one of whose feelings you know people but ob ! if you would let me and almost pleasure. She was sorry nothing." speak to you! Mr. Incledon, oh! why for him, more than she could have “I know about my own," said Rose, should you want me?
There are so
thought possible, and somehow felt with a little sigh ; " and oh, don't many girls better, more like you, that more confidence in him, and freedom think, as mamma does, that I am selfwould be glad. Oh! what is there in to tell him what was in her heart. ish! It is not selfishness; it is because me? I am silly; I am not well edu- “Do not answer me now, unless you I know, if you saw into my heart, you cated, though you may think so. I am please," said Mr. Incledon. “If you would not ask me. Oh, Mr. Incledon, not clever enough to be a companion will give me the right to think your I would die for them all if I could! you would care for. I think it is be- family mine, I know I can be of use to but how could I say one thing to you, cause you don't know."
them. The boys would become my and mean another? How could I let Mr. "Incledon was so much taken by charge, and there is much that has you be deceived ?" surprise that he could do nothing but been lost which I could make up had I “ Then, Rose, answer me truly; is laugh faintly at this strange address. the right to speak to your mother as a your consideration solely for me?” “I was not thinking either of educa- It is absurd, I know," he said, She gave bim an alarmed, appealing tion or of wisdom, but of you, - only with a half-smile; “I am about as old look, but did not reply. you,” he said.
as she is ; but all these are secondary “I am willing to run the risk,” he “ But you know so little about me ; questions. The main thing is — you. said, with a smile, "if all your fear is you think I must be nice because of Dear Rose, dear child, you don't know for me; and I think you might run papa; but papa himself was what love is "
the risk too. The other is an imaginasatisfied with me. I have not read “Ah!” the girl looked up at him tion; I am real, very real,” he added, very much. I know very little. I am suddenly, her countenance changing. very constant, very patient. So long not good for anywhere but home. · Mr. Incledon, I have not said all to as you do not refuse me absolutely, Mr. Incledon, I am sure you are de- you that I wanted to say. Oh, do not I will wait and hope." ceived in me. This is what I wanted ask me any more! Tell mamma that Poor Rose, all her little art was exto say. Mamma does not see it in the you bave given it upl or I must tell hausted. She dared not, with her same light; but I feel sure that you you something that will break my mother's words ringing in her ears, are deceived, and take me for some- heart."
and with all the consequences so thing very different from what I am,” " I will not give it up so long as there clearly before her, refuse him abso. said Rose, totally unconscious that is any hope," he said; “tell me lutely, as he said. She had appealed every word she said made Mr. Incle
what is it? I will do nothing to break to him to withdraw, and he would not don more and more sure tbat he had
withdraw. She looked at him as if he done the very thing he ought to have She made a pause. It was hard to were the embodiment of fate, against done, and that he was not deceived. say it, and yet, perhaps, easier to him which no man can strive.
“Indeed, you mistake me altogeth- than it would be to face her mother “ Mr. Incledon," she said, gravely er,” he said. “It is not merely be- and make this tremendous confession. and calmly, “ you would not marry cause you are a piece of excellence – She twisted her poor little fingers to- any one who did not love you?” it is because I love you, Rose.” gether in her bewilderment and mis- I will marry you, Rose, if
will “ Love me! Do you love me ?” ery, and fixed her eyes upon them have me; whether you love me or not," she said, looking at him with wonder- as if their interlacing were the chief he said; “I will wait for the love, and ing eyes; then drooping with a deep matter in hand. “Mr. Incledon," she hope." blush under his gaze — “but I – do said, very low, “there was some one not love you." else – oh, how can I say it!
her wits' end. · You are free, you can “I did not expect it; it would have one -- whom I cared for -- whom I do what you please, and there are so been too much to expect; but if you can't help thinking about."
many girls in the world besides me. will let me love you, and show you “ Tell me," said Mr. Incledon, And I cannot do what I please," she how I love you, dear!” said Mr. Incle- bravely quenching in his own mind a added, low, with a piteous tone, lookdon, going up to her softly, with not very amiable sentiment; for it ing at him. Perhaps he did not hear something of the tenderness of a fa- seemed to him that if he could but se- these last words. He turned from her ther to a child, subduing the eagerness cure her confidence all would be well. with I know not what mingling of of a lover. “I don't want to frighten He took her hand with caressing gen- love, and impatience, and wounded you; I will not hurry nor tease; but tleness, and spoke low, almost as low pride, and walked up and down the some time you might learn to love as she did. «Tell me, my darling; darkling room, making an effort to
I am your friend, confide in me. Who command himself. She thought she “ That is what mamma says," said was it ? May I know ?”
had moved him at last, and sat with Rose, with a heavy sigh.
* I cannot iell you who it was," said her hands clasped together, expecting Now this was scarcely flattering to Rose, with her eyes still cast down,“ be- the words which would be deliverance a lover. Mr. Incledon felt for the ino- cause he has never said anything to to her. It was almost dark, and the ment as if he had received a down
me; perhaps he does not care for me ; firelight glimmered through the low right and tolerably heavy blow; but but this has happened: without his room, and the dim green glimmer of he was in earnest, and prepared to ever asking me, or perhaps wishing it, the twilight crossed its ruddy rays, meet with a rebuff or two. “ She I cared for him. I know a girl should not more unlike than the two who says truly," he answered, with much not do so, and that is why I cannot thus stood so strangely opposed to gravity “ Rose,- may I call you cannot! But,” said Rose, raising her each other. At last, Mr. Incledon reRose ? - do not think I will persecute head with more confidence, though turned to where Rose sat in the shador pain you; only do not reject me still reluctant to meet his eye, ow, touched by neither one illuminahastily. What I have to say for my- that you know this you will not think tion nor the other, and eagerly watchself is very simple. I love you — that of me any more, Mr. Incledon. I am ing him as he approached her through is all; and I will put up with all a man so sorry if it makes you at all unhap- the uncertain gleams of the ruddy may for the chance of winning you, py ; but I am of very little conse- light. when you know me better, to love me quence; you cannot be long unhappy “ There is but one girl in the world in return.' about me.
for me,” he said, somewhat hoarsely. These were almost the same words “ Pardon me if I see it in quite a “I do not pretend to judge for any as those Mrs. Damerel had employed; different light," be said._“My mind one but myself. So long as you do but how differently they sounded! is not at all changed. This is but a not reject me, I will hope.” they had not touched Rose's heart at fancy. Surely a man who loves you, And thus their interview closed.
1.500k, be kind!” she said, driven to
When he had got over the disagreea- are counter to ours as well as our more difficult the fight was, the more ble shock of encountering that indif- own; but at twenty, all that is good triumphant would be the success. ference on the part of the woman he and necessary in life seems always on This state of affairs lasted for some loved, which is the greatest blow that our side, and there seems no choice time; indeed, everything went can be given to a man's vanity, Mr. for Heaven but to clear the obstacles quietly, with no apparent break in the Incledon was not at all down-hearted out of our way.
Something would gentle monotony of existence at the about the result. He went away, with happen, and all would be well again; White House, until the spring was so half a dozen words to Mrs. Damerel, and Rose's benevolent fancy even ex- far advanced as to have pranked itbegging her not to press his suit, but ercised itself in finding for “ poor Mr. self out in a flood of primroses. It to let the matter take its course. “ All Incledon" some one who would suit was something quite insignificant and will go well if we are patient,” he said, him better than herself.
He was very
incidental which for the first time with a composure which, perhaps, sur- wary, very judicious, in his treat- reawakened Rose's fears. He had prised her; for women are apt to prefer ment of her. He ignored that one looked at her with something in his the hot-headed in such points, and Mrs. scene when he had refused to give up eyes which betrayed him, or some Damerel did not reflect that, having his proposal, and conducted himself word had dropped from his lips which waited so long, it was not so hard on for some time as if he had sincerely startled her; but the first direct attack the middle-aged lover to wait a little given' up his proposal, and was no upon her peace of mind did not come longer. But his forbearance at least more than the family friend, the most from Mr. İncledon. It came from two was of immediate service to Rose, kind and sympathizing of neighbors. ladies on the Green, one of whom at who was allowed time to recover her. It was only by the slowest degrees least was very innocent of evil meanself after her agitation, and had no that Rose found out that he had given ing. Rose was walking with her more exciting appeals addressed to up nothing, that his constant visits mother on an April afternoon, when her for some time. But Mr. Incledon
and constant attentions were so many they met Mrs. Wodehouse and Mrs. went and came, and a soft, continued meshes of the net in which her simple Musgrove, likewise taking their afterpressure, which no one could take defeet were being caught. For the
Mrs. Musgrove was a cided objection to, began to make it- first few weeks, as I have said, she very quiet person, who interfered with self felt.
was relieved altogether from every- nobody, yet who was mixed up with thing that looked like persecution. everything that went on on the Green, She heard of him, indeed, constantly, by right of being the most sympathetic
but only in the pleasantest way: of souls, ready to hear everybody's MR. INCLEDON went and came; Fresh flowers came, filling the dim old grievance and to help in everybody's he did not accept his dismissal, nor, rooms with brightness; and the gar- trouble. Mrs. Wodehouse struck indeed, had any dismissal been given dener from Whitton came to look af- straight across the Green to meet Mrs. to him. A young lover, like Edward ter the flowers and to suggest to Mrs. Damerel and Rose, when she saw Wodehouse, would have been at once Damerel improvements in her garden, them, so that it was by no ordinary crushed and rendered furious by the and how to turn the ball, which was chance meeting, but an encounter appeal Rose had made so ineffectually large in proportion to the house, into sought eagerly on one side at least, to the man of experience who knew a kind of conservatory; and baskets of that this revelation came. Mrs. Wodewhat he was about. If she was worth fruit came, over which the children house was full of her subject, vibrathaving at all, she was worth a strug- rejoiced ; and Mr. Incledon himself ing with it to the very flowers on her gle; and Mr. Incledon, in the calm came, and talked to Mrs. Damerel and bonnet, which thrilled and nodded exercise of his judgment, knew that played with them, and left books, new against the blue distance like a solat the last every good thing falls into books, all fragrant from the printing, dier's plumes.
forward the arms of the patient man who can of which he sometimes asked Rose's with a forced exuberance of cordiality, wait. He had not much difficulty in opinion casually. None of all these | holding out both her hands. penetrating the thin veil which she good things was for her, and yet she “ Now tell me !" she said ; “may we had cast over the “some one had the unexpressed consciousness, congratulate you? Is the embargo whom she cared, but who, so far as which was pleasant enough so long as removed ? Quantities of people have she knew, did not care for her. It no one else remarked it and no rec- assured me that we need not hold our could be but one person, and the ompense asked, that but for tongues any longer, but that it is all elder lover was glad beyond descrip- her those pleasant additions to the settled at last. tion to know that his rival had not
family life would not have been. • What is all settled at last ?" spoken, and that he was absent and Then it was extraordinary how often asked Mrs. Damerel, with sudden stifflikely to be absent. Edward Wode- he would meet them by accident in ness and coldness. “I beg your parhouse being thus disposed of, there was their walks, and how much trouble he don, but I really don't in the least no one else in Mr. Incledon's way, and would take to adapt his conversation know what you mean.”. with but a little patience he was sure to theirs, finding out (but this Rose “I said I was afraid you were too to win.
did not discover till long after) all her hasty,” said Mrs. Musgrove. As for Rose, though she felt that tastes and likings. I suppose that “Well, if one can't believe the eviher appeal had been unsuccessful, she having once made up his mind to take dence of one's senses, what is one too was less discouraged by it than so much trouble, the pursuit of this to believe?” cried Mrs. Wodehouse. she could have herself supposed. In shy creature, who would only betray “It is not kind, Rose, to keep all your the first place she was let alone; noth- what was in her by intervals, who old friends so long in suspense. Of ing was pressed upon her; she had shut herself up like the mimosa when- course, it is very easy to see on which time allowed her to calm down, and
ever she was too boldly touched, but side the hesitation is; and I am sure I with time everything was possible. who opened secretly with an almost am very sorry if I have been premaSome miracle would happen to save childlike confidence when her fears ture.” her; or, if not a miracle, some ordinary were lulled to rest, became more in- “ You are more than premature,". turn of affairs would take the shape teresting to Mr. Incledon than a more said Mrs. Damerel with of miracle, and answer the same pur- ordinary wooing, with a straightfor laugh, and an uneasy color on her pose.
What is Providence, but a di- ward yes” to his proposal at the cheek, “ for you are speaking a lanvine agency to get us out of trouble, end of it, would have been. His van- guage neither Rose nor I underto restore happiness, to make things ity got many wounds both by Rose's stand. I hope, Mrs. Wodehouse, you pleasant for us ? so, at least, one unconsciousness and by her shrinking; have good news from your son.” thinks when one is young; older, we but he pursued his plan undaunted “Oh, very good news indeed !” said begin to learn that Providence has
by either, having made up his mind the mother, whose indignation on her to watch over many whose interests to win her and no other; and the son's behalf made the rose on her
BY MARY CLEMMER AMES.
bonnet quiver: and then there were a few further inter- asleep or awake, she did so to the play of the great changes of volleys in the shape of questions and answers fountain in the inner court, and in airs laden with mel. of the most civil description, and the ladies shook hands and parted. Rose had been struck dumb altogether by
ody, warmth, and fragrance. The problems of destiny, the dialogue, in which, trembling and speechless, she had
the struggles of daily outer life, the pursuit of knowltaken no part. When they had gone on for a few yards in
edge, are as unknown to the Creole woman as to her silence, she broke down in her effort at self-restraint.
infant child. Even the inevitable sorrows of human Mamma, what does she mean?"
existence are softened to her, as they are to but few “Oh, Rose, do not drive me wild with your folly!” said of her sisters. Mrs. Damerel. “What could she mean but one thing? If In her own home Circe Sutherland's life and devel. you think for one moment, you will have no difficulty in understanding what she means."
opment were but those of the many. Her marriage at
sixteen wrought no change in her lot. It was the (To be continued.)
union of an old name and a great estaie, rather than of a girl and boy who knew little of each other, and
cared less. Circe was to have the estate, and Duncan HIS TWO WIVES.1
Sutherland had the name, which her father wished her to carry through life unchanged.
It was a brief marriage. At eighteen Circe SutherCIRCE SUTHERLAND. —OLD
land was a widow and an orphan, with life, the world, and a fortune before her. Pretty but unformed at six
teen, at eighteen it was but the dawn of that transcenCyril King's personal opinion of Circe Sutherland | dant loveliness of person which afterwards made her was correct, but Agnes' moral estimate of her was still
snare and her fame. Her fortune, vested in p-rpetual more acutely accurate. Each looked upon her and funds, and in the care of trustees, yielded her a great judged her from such opposite angles of vision that
revenue ; and by a provision of her father's will, his neither could perceive in her spiritually what the other sister, her Aunt Jessie, was made her companion and
personal guardian as long as she remained unmarried. She certainly was not one of an average type in the Marriage was not in the programme which she made society in which she now found herself. It pleased mentally for herself, in her dreams uuder the magnolia her to recognize in herself an object unusual amid the
trees by the fountain in the inner court of the old house special human developments which surrounded her. in New Orleans. Nevertheless she was the purely natural flower and When she left the convent at fifteen, she accompafruit of the race and life out of which she was born.
nied her father to Europe, where she met for the first Iuto the restless, dazzling atmosphere of a Northern
time her large-jawed, high-cheek-boned cousin Duncan. metropolis she brought the languor, the repose, the Scotland was not her native air ; she shuddered and sofiness of the far South. But she brought something shivered till she got away from it. Still there Howed more. Brain currents from the strong, harsh, meta- in her veins some of the blood which coursed through physical race of the North, — her father's race, mod
the pulses of one enchanting ancestress, whose beauty ified by temperament, climate, education, by the pre- and whose wiles made her famous even at the court of ponderance of a softer and more sensuous race in her Louis the Grand. Another race, another climate, a veins, nevertheless made themselves perpetually and freer age, had given a delicacy, a softness, a subtlety, to unmistakably felt in the action of her clear and subtle the descendant's beauty, which the ancestress had not. brain. All a Creole in teinperament and tastes, she She was all that the earlier Circe was, but more. The was anything but a Creole in absolute thought-power. primeval elements of each nature were the same.
She Because she thought and comprehended so powerfully came to France as to her home. Was it not the birthwhat she desired and enjoyed was the central reason place and cradle of her mother's race, the sanctuary why she enjoyed so much and so keenly, and on her of their dust ? Paris only repeated for her, on a
much own plane possessed such power to create and to in ampler and more æsthetic scale, the life that had been crease the enjoyments of others.
hers from birth the French life of her French mother. When had she lived for anything but self-indulgence? She left it with regret and yearning, and the first imNever. Indulgence, satisfaction in beauty, music, art, pulse of her delicious freedom was to go back to it. luxury, conquest, — had not these been to her as to her
She went. mother, and to many mothers before her, at once the
The five years spent in Paris, and in the capitals and aim and fulfillment of existence ? Her father's blood
art-centres of the Continent, were the educators of Circe had added only strength and zest to these qualities, in Sutherland. They shaped her culture and crystallized the primal directions. Her childhood and first youth her character. I'hese years were one long pursuit had been one unbroken dream of pleasure. In the
of pleasure; but of pleasure in its lower forms nerer. imperial summer life on the great plantation, in the Her study of music under the best masters would have winter life in the southern capital wherein she was been labor, had it not been, beside, an inspiration and born, she knew naught but the ministry of slaves, the a passion. It is an exacting art, and in its absorption felicity of being idolized, the pursuits and fulfilment of her time and thoughts, Circe Sutherland escaped of pleasure through all the infinite forms which great
many temptations and not a few snares. For wherever wealth lavishes on its possessors.
she appeared she created the personal sensation which The events of her days were the siesta, the bath, the
a woman so young, beautiful, gifted, rich, and unwedded, toilette, the eveniug drive, the theatre, the opera, music,
was sure to win. poetry, and fiction.
Her maid dressed her, served her She was tempting as an apple of the Hesperides to faintest wish, read to her; and when she dreamed, that large class of men in Europe to whom pleasure is a
life-pursuit, and gallantry a fine art. To them,
** Aunt Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by 11. O. Houda. TON & Co., in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
Jessie " did not seem to be a very dangerous dragon.
But more than one lived to find himself the slave of an this potent inagnet.
She soon drew to herself a enchantress whose infantile mouth and child-voice made coterie larger and more concentrated than had ever him sure in the beginning that he was to be her master. surrounded her in a European capital, for the reason A master was something which in this life Circe Suth- that there her sovereignty was divided. Not an Amer. erland was never to find. She might surrender to a ican by race or culture, she found herself a more unique degree; how often that face seemed to say that she did and engrossing figure in the new metropolis than she so wholly; but far down in her being, unmoved, was the could ever be amid the cultivated ranks of the Old will which from first to last held her in all ultimates World. She found here what she missed and sighed wholly her own. It was the most potent force in her, for in vain there — absolute reverence for womanhood this passion for freedom, this will that would not brook for its own sake. restraint, that defied coercion. This dominating trait, “ I prefer the European women of rank to the Amerveiled as it was from sight by the most feminine soft- | ican women as a rule,” she said, “ but no man on earth ness, was the central spring of her thought and action. can compare with the Ainerican gentlemen. The EuIt forced her beyond the pale of the mother church, ropean is gallant, chivalric sometimes ; the American whose primal law is obedience. It forced her mentally is chivalric often, reverent always." and spiritually out to drift upon the shoreless seas The homage that was hers held her in a land which of speculative philosophy and free thought, whose vic- she often sighed over as tims, once out, so rarely ever again cast anchor.
“ This rush and din, this graceless hurry, is enough She knew no God but nature not nature in the to kill one,” she would cry. "Oh for an hour at the divinity of her Edenic forms of beauty, but nature in conservatoire, for one evening in Venice, for one day the human ; in its instincts, its impulses, its yearnings, at the Louvre, for a morning at Versailles, with the its pleasures. Her God was her own desires. Fortn- fountains playing! If I could have Europe, and with nately for her these were not erratic nor prone to wild it all that is mine here, then life would be perfect.
Had they been, she must have landed in That is impossible, and I must take my choice. Shall Tophet long before. Passion was pain, therefore her it be the perfection of music, of ideal forms, of dead intention was never to suffer from passion if she could art; or life, love, power ? There I live, here I reign. help it.
It had been perfectly easy for her to help it Here I have a kingdom, small, maybe, but it is mine.
She was too æsthetic, too subtly sensuous, to I stay.” be easily satisfied with anything. She had met many She could endure crudeness, rudeness even, in art of the highest rank, of the fioest mental endowments and in many of the manifestations of society, while the and attainments; she had accepted homage from many plastic material that waited her own artistic and transsuch. She had fancied herself in love with not a few. muting touch was the fresh, rich, unwrought mine of But soon or late they had all wearied or offended her human character surrounding her. mentally in some way, often in an undelinable one, By the merest accident the fateful hinges of life ever aur she came back to her own wilful and pleasure- seem to turn. Cyril King met Circe Sutherland for loving soul, more than ever the mistress of herself and the first time at the villa of her friend. Anywhere and of men.
under any conditions these two persons would have imHad she no heart? Oh, yes. But she had other pressed each other. In contrasting beauty one dazzled forces in her far stronger. She loved pleasure and the other. Each nature held elements of fascination for power more than she could ever love a lover. Men are the other. The lack of one was the lack of both the the natural prey of such women, as women are the lack of conscience. Acute in every sensuous and mental legitimate prey of such a man. Yet with a difference. direction, in moral sensibility alone both were slow and Circe Sutherland was too kindly in impulse to deliber- lethargic. No matter what he did, here was one whose ately work out another's woe, nevertheless this was matchless eyes would never question or judge him. more than likely to be the result when the more po- Here was one who, basking in the splendor of his gifts, tent forces of her nature had play. Her very love of would never turn and stab him with the question, “Is it luxury and ease inade her prefer to see happy, satisfied right ?” “ Is it wrong." And oh, what would it not be people about her. She was very amiable and serene to him, to any man living, the thrilling welcome of that iu disposition when she was not crossed, and there were voice, the soft approval of that face, the seductive worship few indeed to cross her. Unlike most women of her of that lifted glance and smile! type she was fond of women. She had never been A man of much stronger moral nature than Cyril reconciled at heart to being a woman herself, and it King could not have failed to receive such impressions was a feeling of half pity that made her kind to other from a manner such as Circe Sutherland's. It never women. In choosing, she would have chosen to in- occurred to Cyril to silence or to repress them, as they jure a man rather than a woman, but she had never sprung up in his thoughts. The cup of the gods was yet paused in pursuit of an end at the thought of in- lifted to his lips at last. Love, flattery, homaye, each juring anybody. It was her friendship for a woman after its kind had been his ; never before recognition, that brought her first to New York. The attraction inspiration, worship like this. Circe Sutherland smiled which she found herself to be in that friend's parlors upon all men till she tired of them ; but rarely in her was the cause of her establishing one of her own homes life liad she smiled upon any man as she smiled upon in the metropolis. The natural empire of such a woman Cyril King. She was most fascinating because she is in Europe. But Circe Sutherland crossed the ocean herself was fascinated, and implied it to the full in voice, at the time when the seed scattered by philosophers of in glance, in manner, without one committed word. the Eastern Continent in the fallow Western soil had She was perfectly aware that no homage is so delicate, already sprung up and ripened into crude fruit. Of so subtle, so potent, as this which suggests everything these the Affinity Club was one. It needed a central without the limitation of a word. She knew nothing figure, a centripetal force to draw together and to blend of his personal life or associations when she met him its dissonant forces. Circe Sutherland was this divinity, I first. When she learned them from the lips of her
THE HOLLOW AMID THE FERNS.
friend on the great piazza overlooking the Sound, her thoroughfare for all its vehicles ; for the little rocking interest in him did not lessen, it deepened.
omnibus, the showy equipages of the government func" Why should such a man be so enslaved and bound, tionaries and foreign embassadors, for the one-mule forsooth! Shall he starve himself and do her no good ? | market cart from Maryland, and the great primeval cotNever,” said the queen of the Affinity Club, she whom ton-topped wagon from Virginia with its three horses, her worshippers called “the queen of the good, the a slave astride the leader. There was room and to beautiful, and the true.”
spare on the grand avenue of the capital of the
United States for all these vehicles. They never ran The regenerated capital of the nation in which we into each other. rejoice to-day is not the one to which Cyril and Agnes
(To be continued.) came. They reached Washington before the transforming hand of a great organizer had touched and transfigured it. The dawning Paris that it is to-day, no lover of it ever dreamed that it could be then. For
FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD. he whose genius created and shaped it for its far-off and resplendent future, Peter L'Enfant, already slept in his forgotten grave. The sunny “circles” now set
The hill opposite one end of Bathsheba's dwelling exlike emeralds in its broad transverse avenues, brave tended into an uncultivated tract of land, covered at this with flowers and fountains and happy children, then season with tall thickets of brake fern, plump and diaphawere mimic Sabaras, real indeed in the searing and nous from recent rapid growth, and radiant in hues of clear sifting qualities of their ever-flying sands. No seats
and untainted green. set under Norway pines, and in the grateful shadow of
At eight o'clock this midsummer evening, whilst the honeyed magnolias, then invited the wayfarer in Lafayferns with its long, luxuriant rays, a soft brushing-by of
bristling ball of gold in the west still swept the tips of the ette Square. The grim image of Jefferson in front of garments might have been heard among them, and Baththe White House had not then retired to the side sheba appeared in their midst, their soft, feathery arms grounds, to give place to the central fountain which caressing her up to her shoulders. She paused, turned, now pervades the fervid air with its saving coolness. went back over the hill and down again to her own door, The western side of the Treasury was not begun, the whence she cast a farewell glance upon the spot she had white splendors of the new Navy and War Departments just left, having resolved not to remain near the place after
all. were not dreamed of, and the unwrought marbles of the great Capitol wings still lay untouched in their shoulder of the rise. It disappeared on the other side.
She saw a dim spot of artificial red moving round the native quarries.
She waited one minute two minutes thought of The five-minute car with its one sacrificial horse had Troy's disappointment at ber non-fulfilment of a promised not then saddened with ceaseless tug the silence of the engagement, tossed on her hat again, ran up the garden, streets. The same little struggling omnibus which
clambered over the bank and followed the original direccarried Jolin Randolph of Roanoke to and fro from
tion. She was now literally trembling and panting at this Georgetown to the Capitol still made its tedious and
her temerity in such an errant undertaking; her breath tardy trips, at special hours crammed to the driver's
came and went quickly, and her eyes shone with an inseat with Congressmen. The stately metropolitan of a pit in
frequent light. Yet go she must. She reached the verge
of a pit in the middle of the ferns. Troy stood in the botblocks now stretching out in every direction then had tom, looking up towards her. never appeared outside of the brain of Peter L'Enfant, “I heard you rustling through the fern before I saw when he planned his new Paris of the future. Instead, you,” he said, coming up and giving her his hand to help square stately mansions rose at intervals from Capitol
her down the slope. Hill to Georgetown Heights ; but their next neighbors with a top diameter of about thirty feet, and shallow enough
The pit was a hemispherical concave, naturally formed, were very sure to be a hovel or a shop, excepting the historic houses which with their gardens made an un
to allow the sunshine to reach their heads. Standing in the
centre, the sky overhead was met by a circular horizon of broken cordon around Lafayette Square.
fern : this grew nearly to the bottom of the slope and then In the main it was a straggling city of magnificently abruptly ceased. The middle within the belt of verduer broad streets and avenues, and quaint, two-story, red
was floored with a thick flossy carpet of moss and grass brick houses with high, sleep, one-sided steps, staring intermingled, so yielding that the foot was balf buried front-doored areas, and peaked dormer windows.
within it. Pennsylvania Avenue, majestic in breadth and length, raised it'into the sunlight, gleamed a sort of greeting, like
* Now," said Troy, producing the sword, which, as he stretching past its " Treasury ” crowned Acropolis to
a living thing, “first, we have four right and four left its Capitolian Hill, was lined with these two and three cuts; four right and four left thrusts. Infantry cuts and story dormer-roofed houses devoted to combined homes guards are more interesting than ours, to my mind; but and shops.
They were like the houses built in the they are not so swashing. They have seven cuts and colonial days of New York, which still do service in three thrusts. So much as a preliminary. Well, next, our
- so." Bath
cut one is as if you were sowing your corn the Jew quarter of the Bowery, and not at all like the stately buildings the world had a right to expect would
sheba saw a sort of rainbow, upside down in the air, and
Troy's arm was still again. * Cut two, as you line the grand avenue of the capital of a great nation. hedging so. Three, as if
were reaping To Agnes they looked smaller and lower than the com- if you were threshing - in that way. Then the same pactly builded blocks of provincial Ulm.
on the left. The thrusts are these : one, two, three, four, The avenue was never crowded, not even when the right; one, two, three, four, left.” He repeated them. government departments poured out their tides of “ Have 'em again ? ” he said. “One, two”. workers. There was always room and to spare on it
She hurriedly interrupted : “I'd rather not; though I for old men, women, and little children ; also for the don't mind your twos and fours; but your ones and threes tine lady, the rushing representative, the stately senator,
are terrible 1" the weary slave.
Very well. I'll let you off the ones and threes. Next, Room and to spare on the great' cuts, points, and guards all together.” Troy duly exhibited