whispering on her way to take h

to whisper. 'Roland will

this new light prompted her to meet him defiantly, if he chose to feel injured. He was attracted by a happy contrast of colour between her dress and complexion, together with a caval

riel to-day? he amuses me,'

s fashioned for that purpose!

oo much head, my friend; he

been up in the fields a

his head, I back hi

what we will. Your favourite, Madame la Baronne, is interdicted fr

e fair ingenuousness which outshines innoc

what an exciting, h

ess it? and, having that, had he t

ged into the discu

curiously for

s ignorance that so precious an article was at stake, he held, that by the ter

not, I think, decided by weapons

duelling,' s

and generously added, 'But you have your volunteers-a magnifice

riotic readiness the character of the volunteering signified, in the face of all that England has to maintain. Like a politic islander,

love, marquise!' The baron

round: that made it

t with the dust

d to know, 'does this amusing young man pr

and as she had spoken more or less neatly, satisfaction was left residing in the ear o

ect it produced, and quite excused her sister-in-law for intending to produce is; but that speaking out the half-truth that we may put on the mask of the whole, is

foregone reckless act or word may have superinduced the healthy shame which cannot speak, which must disguise itself, and is honesty i

Henri's name was mentioned. Did not this betray liking for one, subjection to the other? Indeed, there was an Asiatic splendour of animal beauty about M. d'Henriel that would be serpent with most women, Madame d'Au

of a lady and a glove; and her desire, like his, was that they should meet daily and dream on, without a variation. He noticed how seldom she led him beyond the grounds of the chateau. They were to make excursions when her brother came, she said. Roland de Croisnel's colonel, Coin de Grandchamp, happened to be engaged in a duel, which great business detained Roland. It supplied Beauchamp with an excuse for staying, that he was angry with himself for being pleased to have; so he attacked the practice of duelling, and next the shrug, wherewith M. Livret and M. d'Orbec sought at first to defend the foul custo

itimist ire around him, and found himself breathing the atmosphere of the most primitive nursery of Toryism. Again he encountered the shrug, and he would have it a verbal matter. M. d'Orbec gravely recited the programme of the country party in France. M. Livret carried the war across Channel. You English have retired from active life, like the exhausted author, to turn critic-the critic that sneers: unless we copy you abjectly we are execrable. And what is that sneer? Materially it

ke the proverbial Russ, leaps up Tartarly at a scratch. Our newspapers also had been flea- biting M. Livret and his countrymen of late; and, to conclude, over in old England you may fly out against what you will, and there is little beyond a motherly smile, a nurse's rebuke, or a fool's rudeness to answer you. In quick-blooded France you

hough not virtuous-M. Livret had been traversed by Beauchamp with questions as to the condition of the people, the peasantry, that were sweated in taxes to support these lovely frailties. They came oddly from a man in the fire of youth, and a little old gentleman somewhat seduced by the melting image of his theme might well blink at him to ask, of what flesh are you, then? His historic harem was insulted. Personally too, the fair creature picturesquely soiled, intrepid in her amoro

d may we never abandon it for a Puritanism that hides its face to conc

here are two ways of be

ne

r wit is French,' he breathe

and they now talked of Count Henri's disgrace and banishment in a very warm spirit of sympathy, not at all seeing why it should be made to depend upon the movements of this M. Beauchamp, as it appeared to be. Madame d'Auffray heard some of their dialogue, and hurried with a mouth full of comedy to Renee, who did not

o the legitimate king aga

r chin up. 'H

husb

t of

retur

brings

not hear of M. Beauchamp's being here, without an e

of you! You must have made use of the telegraph

m to inform him that M.

ing him! He pays M. Beauch

ompliments to you. I say that to M. Beauchamp's credit; for Raoul has met him, an

oint in the character of one who appeared to have no sentiment of the kind as regarded men that were much less than men of honour. 'So, then, my sister Agnes

uilty?' said Ma

idiot, half panther,

p, you woul

tions to prevent their

amp does

lushed

say that he is other than a perfec

flatter me. Believe me, I thirst for flattery; I have had none since M. Beauchamp came: and you, so acute, must have seen the want of it in my face. But you, so skilful, Agnes, will manage these men. Do you know, Agnes, that the pride of a woman so incredibly clever as you have shown me you are should resent their intrigues and

p by boat,' said

the boat. But does it not give the man a triumph that we should seem to try to elude him? What matter! Still, I do

t my f

the legitimate k

days o

ubjects are to a

e the point of a fing

e pardoned?'

im to kneel,

itimacy jealous of a foreigner is an odd one. However, we are women,

idea that she assisted in performing the

e, of requiring protection; and the presence of her husband could not but be hateful to him, an undeserved infliction. To her it was intolerable that they should be brought into contact. It seemed almost as hard that she should have to dismiss Beauchamp to preclude their meeting. She remembered, nevertheless, a certain desperation of mind, scarce imaginable in the retrospect, by which, trembling, fever-smitten, scorning herself, she had been reduced to hope for Nevil Beauchamp's coming as for a rescue. The night of the

old, perhaps grasping: but dwell upon her in her character of woman; conceive her existing, to estimate the charm of her graciousness. Name the two countries which alone have produced THE WOMAN, the ideal woman, the woman of art, whose beauty, grace, and wit offer her to our contemplation in an atmosphere above the ordinary conditions of the world: these two countries are France and Greece! None other give you the perfect woman, the woman who conquers time, as she conquers men, by virtue of the divinity in her blood; and she, as little as illustrious heroes, is to be judged by the laws and standards of lesser creatures. In fashioning her, nature and art have worked together: in her, poetry walks the earth. The question of good or bad is entirely to be put aside:

is choice of the river's quiet charms in preference to the dusty roads. Madame de Rouaillout said, 'Come, M. d'Orbec; what if you surren

ou see him?

'It is not long

the

along-th

our g

trust my memory, M. d'Henrie

d herself to

M. Livret insisted on w

rshipped and laid her w

ds of the Revolutio

s voice to d

: 'The Revolution was our grandmother,

ur to her cheeks. He was hearty air to them after the sentimentalism they had been hearing. Beauchamp and he walked like loving comrades at school, questioning, answering,

el on my ride here,' he said with a sharp inqui

om Tourdestelle,

ne of the comp

you without sp

be spoiled by them- heaven forbid that! Friend Nevil,' he spoke lower, 'do you know, you have something of the prophet in you? I remember: much has come true. An old spoiler of women is worse t

parated with

he would have done so, but for his objection to

tside the gilt gate-rails to the graceful little beast, that acknow

lled, 'Au revoir,

le Commandant,'

d Roland. 'Thanks to your promotion, I had a letter f

e time when he pined to be a commodore, and an admiral. The

s out beauty, and, bidding it disdain rivalry, rivalled it insomuch that in a moment of trance Beauchamp

of the magnetic mountain, flies all its bolts and bars, and becomes sheer timbers, but that is the carelessness of the ship's captain; and hitherto Beauchamp could applaud hi

walking across a meadow to a line of charmilles that led to the river- s

handsome? And he is young to be a commandant, for we have no interest at this Court. They kept him out of the last war! My father expe

for the fellow to it bef

ion to light-headedness, m

he past is dust. Sha

lan

s dust as well as the past: for me, at least. Dust here, dust there!-if one could be like a silk-worm, and live lying on the leaf one feeds on, it would be a sort of

out of the shadow of the clipped tree

m seek her eyes for an explanation of the dead sound. She was very

oked

ssed legs on one of the sculls planted in the gravel of the river, Count

omfrey, Beauchamp said of the fantastical posture

but she also commented on the statuesque appearance of Co

wed a sign of surpr

drooped hat in hand, and came paddling over; apologized indolently, and said, 'I a

in my boat, M. le

e had set one foot on

d a hand to assist he

ld of the bows while Ren

ulder to st

positive support. He had thrown his force into the blow, to push off triumphantly, and leave his rival standing. It occurred that the boat's brief resistance and rocking away agitated his artificial equipoise, and, by the operation of inexorable laws, the longer he leaned across an extending surface the more was he dependent; so that when the measur

at, dropping into about four feet of water, and his first remark on ris

ee nodded sharply to Beauchamp to bid him row. He, with less of wisdom, having seized the floating scull

e and deplorable to behold. He must have been conscious of this miserable exhibition of himself; he turned to Beauchamp: 'You are, I am informed, a sailor, m

words he

s insufferable in its feebleness. It would have been different with her if Beauchamp had taken advantage of her fever of anxiety, suddenly appeased by the sight of him on the evening of his arrival at Tourdestelle after the storm, to attempt a renewal of their old broken love-bonds. Then she would have seen only a conflict between two men, neither of whom could claim a more secret right than the other to be called her lover, and of whom both were on a common footing, and partly despicable. But Nevil Beauchamp had behaved as her perfect true friend, in the character she had hoped for when she s

g her withdraw her foot from the rock's edge, and had that instant rescued her.

ration in her own eyes. She burned to be interrogated, to have to weep, to be scorned, abused, and forgiven, that she might say she did not deserve pardon. Beauchamp was too English, evidently too blind, for the description of judge-accuser she required; one who would worry he

len monster gourd that had strayed from a garden adjoining the river, and hung sliding heavily down the bank on one greenish yel

. 'Are you tired of

he, 'that you told me you ex

colouring, said, 'At what point of the river

at, if she had known the t

conceivably self-enamoured bulk quavered and distended, and was shattered in a thousan

ue idea that he was ind

atest of nondescripts! Her senses imagined the impressions agitating Beauchamp's, and exaggerated them beyond limit; and when he amazed her with a straight look into her eyes, and the words, 'Better let it be a youth-and live, than fall back to that!' she understood him immediately; and, together with her old fear of his impetuosity and dow

e had no defence for her sca

e cottagers shall row

g would have suffered as I should. Probably some days more and you would have been lost. You looked for me! Trust your instinct now I'm with you as we

e charity in him, unknown to the world of young men in their treatment of women, excited, awed, and melted her. He had seen the whole truth of her relations with M. d'Hen

feet, to feel the possibi

ion of you it is! It wrecks you. But with me? Am I not your lover? You and I are one life. What have we suffered for but to find this out and act on it? Do I not know that a woman lives, and is not the rooted piece of vegetation hypocrites and tyrants expect her to be? Act on it, I say; own me, break the chains, come to me; say, Nevil Beauchamp or death! And death for you? But you

ntinued unceasingly; and deeply was she won by the rebellious note in all that he said, deeply too by his disregard of the vulgar arts of wooers: she detected none. He did not speak so much to win as

ed with her, but for her forlorn repetition of the question he had put to her idly and as a

repeat it when her reason was bedimmed, and passion

ITOR'S B

ry shoots me off a

a woman who goes bey

there's no married w

en have marrie

omen is worse than

a stroke of

enetrates the bosom

sneer is the cl

clusiveness cou

ers in a day when

nation to make parti

pride, which does n

e may put on the

disillusion that

e with you if you we

t to be imperfect: bu

bout it, how is it I

ng, which usually e

so exalted above t

dare is no h

piety made him s

uely like a snow l

n the present like

that make the curves

the good people af

compa

og tellet

itically mean on

ed indeed, but had no

tic tha

e of party

the love of a

o think as well as fe

, this man may be

religion

t talk!-b

em in the list, and

uncommonly for th

rried, you are