ne of those fortunate persons who, possessing what are known as nerve

s departure one evening as she sat with the old lady af

dear?" the old lady ha

t Mrs. Baxter had noticed her lower her

d blinked

was just thinking of L

nary and natural: he was reading fairly hard; his coach was as pleasant a person as he had seemed; he hoped to run down to Stantons for a few days at Christmas. There was nothing

ew ones; that brings out the framework of character and motive as dropping water clears the buried roots of a tree. This was all very well for Mrs. Ba

he wished; and after dinner again to gentle conversation. Very little happened. The Vicar and his wife dined there occasionally, and still more occasionally Father Mahon. Now and then there were vague entertainments to be patronized in the village schoolroom, in an atmo

t to lie, like the kingdom of God, within. She did not in the least wish to be "amused" or stimulated and distracted.

ues. She knew perfectly that she was apt to give way to internal irritation, of a strong though invisible kind, when interruptions happened; that she now and then gave way to an unduly fierce contempt of tiresome people, and said little bit

she was beginning to study, rather to her own surprise, was the character of Laurie. She began to become a little astonished at the freq

for her a rather pleasant psychological exercise to build up his characteristics into a consistent whole. It had not struck her, till this specimen c

ly rather introspective, rather scrupulous, and intensely interested in the watching of two characters-her own and her a

fore-namely, that she was thinking just a little too much about a young man who, so far as was apparent, thought nothing at all about her. It wa

ry happened

ter one morning, smiling

Maggie ceased eating toas

y uttered a smal

an't come, afte

oment of very

say? Why not

ce; saw the page turned, and turned again. She took another piece of toast. There a

nd has a great deal of way to make up." The old lady c

ked Maggie, consum

or twice.... Dear Laurie! I'm g

uch, indeed, beyond the rabbits, which the man who acted as occasional keeper told her wanted thinning, and a dozen or two of wild phea

ed to write

well enough, would do no more than send a little wail, and would end by telling the dear boy that, of course, he knew best, and that she was very happy to think that he was ta

ng, she thought that she would like to step up to the village and post it. She did

oared up in filigree of exquisite workmanship into a sky of clear November blue, as fresh as a hedge-sparrow's egg. The genial sound of c

mboyant as on the depot of a merchant king. Mr. Nugent could be faintly descried within, in white shirt-sleeves and an apron, busied at a pile of chees

to her knowledge; but she had a tolerably accurate mental picture of her from Mrs. Baxter's accoun

for an instant. Then, with an odd look on her face, she turned sharp

n once in Laurie's company. But she passed by the door of it now, and, stepping among the wet grasses, came down the little slope among the headstones to where a ve

ngel was a German female, with a very rounded leg emerging behind a kind of butt

NU

AND ONL

D MARIA

STA

TEMBER 2

CTED

EE HER BUT

n, there stood out the maker's na

otionless and her stammer silent. And could there be a more eloquent monument of what she was...? Then she remembered herself, and signed herse

ome, and was conscious for the first time of her real attitude of soul as she had stood there, readin

rd it w

han that, and she herself-she, Margaret Marie Deronnais-had given way to jealousy of this grocer's daughter, because ... because ... she had begun to care, really to care, for the man to who

disinterestedness on behalf of the mother that she had pretended. She understood too, now, the meaning of those long contented meditations as she went up and down

mes home," she had said. "I think he once

ionately interested in him, that it was a pleasure even to abuse him to herself, to call him selfish and self-cent

er hand on the medieval-looking latch of the gate, and she saw herself in them all as

osed figure, with great steady eyes and well-cut profile, a model of di

bered that she w

ch heart-searching, that after all she was not yet actually in love with Laurie, but was in danger of being so, and that therefore now that she kne

by the following process of thought. It m

regard the beloved as a sp

egard Laurie Baxter as a s

ais was not in love

urday, that she had given way to thoughts of pride and jealousy, that she had deceived herself with regard to a certain action, done really for selfish motives, int

dealt with, that is, it had to be treated in

Maggie,"

d, or you wouldn't have written all that about my being away from home at the one season of the year, etc. Of course I'll come, if you or anybody feels like that. Does mother feel upset too?

ur

.

efully, however, from any expressions that might have anything of the least warmth, bu

ing at Laurie's-at the neat Oxford-looking hand, the arti

ut it with half a dozen others she h

cience smote her again, shrewdly; and she drew out t

she took them out, turned them quickly to see if all were there, and then, gathering up the st

r so, she sa

On the contrary, it was because she had detected a weakness in his regard, she told herself, and had resolutely stamped on it, that she was in so serene a peace. She arranged about the sh

to the conclusion that Laurie was unhappy in his religion-certainly referenc

aurie is here," she observed at breakfast one mo

two, extremely unjust, made by L

think he understand

or fifteen years,"

doesn't understand him the

ares

nk Mr. Rymer will be abl

mean that, my dear. I quite understand that your religion is just the one for certain temperaments, and Laurie's is o

t this was a healthy sign; that it showed that Laurie was settling down from that slight feverishness of zeal that seemed the inevitable atmosphere of most converts. Maggie found converts a little trying now and then; they would talk so much about facts, certainly undisputed, and for

n disputable lines; and she made a remark about the Balkan cri

y dear. We were speaking

said

ieth he's comin

said

at train he'

know," sa

nt to the greenhouse to see the chrysanth

like them hairy one

shall want a big bunch of them. You'd better take those-

, mi

ake a wrea

, mi

for a grave? The morning of the twentieth will do.

es, m

r Fathe

es, m

on the morning of the twentieth. If you'll just leave it here I'll c