{ title: 'The Arcadian weekly gazette. (Newark, N.Y.) 1887-1906, April 03, 1889, Page 1, Image 1', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn88074454/1889-04-03/ed-1/seq-1/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn88074454/1889-04-03/ed-1/seq-1.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn88074454/1889-04-03/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn88074454/1889-04-03/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
Image provided by: Rochester Regional Library Council
'^WJMPHJSSSS! '^a'^SbpSl^* 6 ^* nd ? r< ^ 1 ^ W8 '^ •\\•.-*• N&wjjm, mw Y.OMKy vtmmmkY, APRII/% 1889.\ $i co Per Ypar 5'VOLUME 3 .ByMES. HtTMPBEEY WAED, \ ITXT-HOK <&P \BOBEET ELSMEEE. \ ft -**r for \the hand of the spoiler nad been-near their-dweliing; and JtsJiagrhants lay .scat- tereSTTjETtW grotmoT. Hep're^ehtTyjeafnell lo notice that hP never-heard tho sharp sound *>f tha bird's tapping beak among tha woods •without a little staff of recollection. Outside his walks, his days^were\ r sB5nt~iir continuous literary effort. His book was in a condition which called for all his energies, and ha threw himself vigorously into it.. The first weeks»were^alcen*up wi£h \a Ions review of Victor Hugo's prose and poetry, with a viftw to -a; fiuai crftical'r'esult; Jtseemfed to hiii that there was ituff in the great Ereneh- * man t o suit all'Weathers^ndr^l-slEiissr^here- were somber, wind swept days when the i $tasstchea of hrpwn ling not yet, in flewer, thfe hurrying clouds and thp bending trees were in harmony with all the fierce tempestuous side of the great- romantic. There were others when the homely, tender, domestic aspect of the country formed a sort of Jframe- - work and accompaniment to' the simpler patriarchal elements in theiwofcs which Ken- — : dal\had about hjnii Then, when the pages on Victor Hugo were 'written, those already printed on Chateaubriand,began ta dissat- isfy him, and he steeped himself once more in the rolling artificial Jjarmonies, the mingled beauty andfalsity of one of the most wonder- ful of styles, that he might draw from it its secrets and say a last just word about it. He knew a few families in the neighbor- hood, but he kept away from them, and al- most his only connection with the outer world'during-his first month in the country was his correspondence with _ JIme. de Chateauvieux, who was : at Etretat with her •' husband. She wrote her bother very lively characteristic accounts of the life there, fill- ing her letters with amusing sketches of-the political or artistic celebrities with whom the. little Norman town swarms in the season. After the third or fourth letter, however, 'Kendal began to look-restlessly at the • Etretat postmark, to reflect that Marie had' been there a long time, and to wonder she was not already tired <>£such a public sort of \eSigEengr aytffC^trStaji life. /. Ttiejhatbin'g scenes, and the fire eating\ deputy, nnil this literary woman Willi a mission for tun spread Of naturalism, beearne very flat to him. He was astonished that his sister was not as anxious to start for Italy as he was to hear that she h$l done so'. This -temper oT'EiTwas eo'nneoted with the fact that after the -first of ' August ho bsgau to develop a curious .impatience on tho sub- ject of the daily post. At Old House farm the post was taken as leisurely as everything else; there was no regular delivery, and Ken- dal generally was content to trust to the -casual mercies of the butcher or baker for his ,\ letters; Cut after the date mentioned it oc- curred to him \that his letter? reached him with an abominable irregularity, and that it would dohiiwprk no harm, but, on the con- trary, much good, if ho took'a daily eonstitn- 'tional in tkodii-ection of the postofflce, Which gave a touch of official dimity to tho wasp filled precincts of a grocer's shop mine vil- lage some two miles 6fE. For some considerable number of days,, however, his walks only furnished huh with food for reflection on the common dispropor- tion of means to ends in this life. ills sister's persistence in sticking to the soil of France began to seem to him extraordinary! Howr ever, at last the monotony of the Etretat postmarks was broken -by a post card from Lyons. \We are here for the nights on soma business of-PaUl's; to-morrow we hope to be at Turin, and two Or three days later at Veniee, By the way, where will the Brother?- tons be? , I must trust to my native -ndts, I suppose, when I get there. She is not the sort-of light to:be, hidden under a bushel.* Thia post»card disturbed Kendal jiot a little? and he feit irritably that somebody - ~ tad nns|na4mged matters. He had supposed, and indeed suggested, that XEtss\ Bretherton should' inclose his note in one of hey own to -his sister's Paris address, \giving at the same time, some indication of a place Of meeting in Venice. But. if she had ndtrdone this, it was very possible that the two women might rmss each other-after all; Somstimes, when ' ho had beeii contemplating, this ipossibility &'m \iitu disgust, he would, with a great -effort,, make himself reflect why it was that he rated about the mrat-fcersadispreportteaately. Why was ho so deeply interested in Isabel 'Bretherton's movements abroad and in the .meeting, which would bring her, so to' speak, once more into his, own world? -Why? be? cause it was impossible, he would-answer himself .irtttighautly, not to feel a profound interest in any , woman who had ever sfiared as much emotion with you as she had wi|h •him in those moments at Nuneham, who, .had received a- woundnf your hands, had^winced under it and still had remained gracious „an^i.n4Andjm)nanlyJ^'I should b§_a hard -lw»i^^l-4>iHlte,^h9-w«Ua^iimsU£,J^_Ljiia aoes not de,al with as. invading sentiment:! ^im! teciii: m H« cuiu-'ouue:v iippurenuy.fspearb,. J. tninK—at least sue mentions fwpcr exactly as a youth would do with all his ci- at| tho English pefiplo vvn-i have as j>t van-1 three .plays—andTT gatber from somottting perience to-ceuie. It steals-upon him more! lured to Venice, and these* or.'most^ of th&fii sho said that she is nov^ making tho inavifa-' blowly, lie is capable of disguising it tohiiia-J seemed to be following, in thowake-of a. little ble study of 4uiiet that every aefcres3 makes' solf longer, of,e.-\;aphig from it. iutyother'in- .party of four 'persons—two ladics.it .gentle-\-sooner or later; but' Bheridahj Goldsmith;' terests. l'nssionis iu us ultimateiessience the! man and a lanio.girl walking with a crutch, 'anil, of course, all thp French poople are same, wherever it. appears ^and—under- what-' An exetted-Euglish JaurJst ..cofld,r,smided.t,n.!.mer« names, to hefi „ When,. I th^nk of the-' ever conditions,-but\ it po.ssesse's itself of' -inform Paul that it was .'.the -great English ] minute eshaustive training our Paris-actors, hijman lifo in dififerent.ways, Blowly and , actress, Miss Brotiherton, 1 -who \was creating.j go througli and compare it'Withsuchasta^B certainly the old primeval fire; tho com-' all tho commotion. Tbeu,-of coursn, he went, of nature as hers, -I am amazed at ^hatsha monest, fatalest, divtijest force of life, was'iip to her-^he was provoked that he could making- its way into-Kendal's - nature.- -But! hardly sfee her-tn tj£& dim Ltghtof - St. Mai-kfa itjWas making its way against antagonistic! —iutroduced^imKell and~gescHBetl our pelF forces., of habit, tjfaditioh, self .restraint—it I plestties. Oi course, she had written. lex- dudred oth^-interests m-possoesipa; it had a strange impersonality and timidity of natui-e^fp'figprwith. Kendai-had been ac- customed to live in other men's liyes. Was. he only just beginning to live his own; But, however it was, he was at least con- scious during this waiting time that life was full of some hidden savor-; -that his thoughts: wereHev,er idle, never vacant; that, as he lay flat among the fern in his moments of rest, followijag thlTmarcH oT\the\ctduas as they sailed divinely over the rich breadth and 'color of t*he commons, a whole brood 'of \im-f agaipestledathisheartjor seemed to hover in the sunny air \before him—visions of--a Slender form fashioned with Greek suppleness and majesty, of a soft and radiant presence, of looks all womanliness, anA.gggtures.aU' -peetedas-mBeh^'-Jaeq^g^TOtist certain! pensioned qffl' i?aul -thought: the other three : ver;yWeriOT i to-1reTr£h'ougli'\ ffie unsie was\ eivilaud talkiid condescendingly of Venice, -asthou'gh:it were even-good -enough to be admired by a W^orrajl. It is arranged that the beauty .is to come and see me to-morrow if^after Caterina has operated uponusdut- ing two roeals, we jar'6- stTlt~aSve. Good night and good.-h.y.\ . i. * ' -—' . - - - - \VBNKB- \Well f have seen herj It has beeit a blazing dry. I was sitting in the little gar- den which separates one-half of- our rooms' from ihe other, while Caterina was arrang- ing the {dejeuner under tho little acacia arbor; in the center of it. • Suddenly Felicie came ^ out from the'house, and bsbind her^atallflg- gr^rfrs'nrnruke'lo'other hS'had\ ever ^«re in.a largs' hat'apd-a'white dress. Tlw- seen for charm,, of a quick, impulsive gait! figureheld out both haj^ to me ma cordial, He followed that figure through scene after un-English way and sa^d a number of .pk>a>. he saw primroses nuts' hand, and the' a»ttMngsrap»(lly in a delicious TOice, while pale spring blue above it;he recalled it stand- f, with the dazzle of the sun Amy eyes, Sngte^seandstUl.with blanched cheek and ttatlconM hardly ^make out^Tuefeatures. Used appeahhgeye. whileaU round the Juno \^ f«lmg »l»ttle amh>d b/tho.advejt o|J woods iWniured in the'breeze; he sur , so famous a perSo«. In a few moments,.how- rounded-it in imagination with'the pomp' «\? as i t seemed to me, we were sitting andcircumstance\of the stagehand realized; under tho acacias she was he pmg me to cut it ris a center of emotion to thousands.. And upthenielon and arrange the figs^as if wo then from memories ho-ivould-pass on toJ ^d known one another for months, and I speculations, from the scenes'he knew to those ^as^qjer.encing one of those sudden rushes he c'otfld only guess at, from the lifeoljrhicli °* liklu S ^ oh ' »* ? oa knovv '' nre a-weakness he had seen a little to, the larger and unex- plored life beyond* And so tho days went an, and though lie was impatietjiTahd restless, yet indoors'his work was congenial to him, and out of doors the sun was bright and all tho wliilo'acertaih little god lay hidden, speaking no articulate word, but waiting with a mischievous pa- tience for the final overthrow of of mine. She stayed and took her meal with us. Paul, of course, was.fascinated, andfor oneo has not se,t her„dowh asajeputation surfaite. ''Her beauty >has a curious air of the place; and now I remember that her mother was -Italian—Venetian, actually, was it not? That accounts for it; she is tho Venetian type spir- has donel For, after all, you know, she must b&ablo to aerto some extent; : slie musfj k:no'vv ^aqgreatrdeaiTmoro-bf - her-husiness--thah-^you- and I suspect, or she could not get on at \ali\ \It^ is almost a week,, I see, since, f wrote \toytin^t^HRur-ing^hai^ini^Jve-hOTiB^^ a great deal more of Miss Bretherton, some- times in company with. herbelpngingS),some^ times without thenj, and my impreSions of her have ripened v^ry fast.- Oh, mjr-dear* Eustaee c you havo.been hasty—all', the world has bee-- hasty. Isabel Bretherton's real self'is only nowcximwgtothp front, and it J^arflelf-whiehras -I sa^te-myself--wiraHa»-- tdhishment, not even your keen eyeshftye ^e^er seen—hardlyluspected even. Should I, myself a iwomau, have been ds blind tb a woman's capabilities, I wonder? Very likely I These sudden^rich developments of youth are often beyonu^all calculation, \Mr. Wallace's attitude makes ihe realize more than I ptEerWise' BtTuld the pa«T and present condition of things.. Ho talks to ma with amazemout_of the chfcngee in her tone and outlook, of the girl's si ening intelleot. and growing sensitivenees, and as he recalls incidents and traits of the London season-^toijf essions or judgments or blunders of hers, and puts them beside the Impression which ho sees her to be making on Paul and myselfr-1 begin to understand-from his talk and his bewilderment somotBing of the real nature of the case: -Inteliec.tually, it has been the, ugly duckling' over again. Undej*a'.i tiio cfude, unfledged; imperfection of her young performance, you people who have watched her with your trained critical eyes seem to nw never to have suspected tW coming wings, the strange, nascent power, which is only now osserting,itself in the. light Of day\. \ 'What has Eustace been about?'said Paul to me lost night, after we had all returned itualized. At the foundation of her face, as •-. ....- ^ ^,„„,, _-_„J*I._ _._«• it „„.„•'t:-» .-1« *,. c *u- rS.4.x^„ i'„ from rambling round and round the.moonlit it were, lies the face of the Burano lace :_.._.„ .„ Jk .\, Jv .„ .i„>„„n„-„„ t„ m „ »„•« one more were, lies tne iace oi xne i^urano lace 1 ..-,,\» , ., . j. ^« poormortaL / ' I maker; only tho original tvpe has been sore-' f?f\?? t8 ^^\ f^ n ^ Atlasttheoldpostmisti-oss,whomhe had fined , so cliisek I r.?d smoothed away. that. (talk with.her t _jHe_ought to have seen fur- aMost come to regard as eherishiag a-^per-, to mak tmoltA : only, a\ bBimtiruti:h. , )s5 of snuol grudgeage-lusn him, u6asecTR» repjilset it Tonmins . •*.,. fe,.^ stat clipess of ).<r niui,and.oftei-his saven years of.famine t:-9, movement, tou, ,s Italian; You may see-it years of. a-bmidance set ID. -For the space of ul my Vviietian street, aiid Veronese lias three weeks.letters fi-om VeniceTSy waiting i ^J^j j f ; n ar t » - for him almost eveiT alternate morning.ana j '>.\vhil 0 we 'were sitting in the garden- who therahead. That creature is oijlxjust begin nlng to live, and'it will be a life worth hav- ing. He has kindled it, toi, o» ;»vut'fc as anybody. Of course, we have not seen hei' \net \yet and ignorant—yes, she iscortafely ignorant—though not so-much as I imagiued. tho heathery slopes between the farm andthe I shouidlie announced ira7Ehvm\lTva7la^'ri But ^ for Batural P ower and deli , cac ,y ol vdlago grew-familiar with the-speetacloof aitiXrof cZTf^ tall, thin man in a-rougb tweed suit strug-, ,|, er V abot ,t thiVtim.-, I lit in :l»> Wry of oar , th f,^ ! Settling IU I hud guito fiirgotteu his exist-1 .. ,\» Artf>n trt tlint. tlio <:io-Titf nf lii^. fi-fi,, r»Qvc.-\n ' tllv-m,. gang a» he walked with fiheets of foreign.patipl- waifhthd wind was» doing its bosf'to filch away from him. - ThO-foitowing extracts from these letters contain such portions of them as are-neces- sary to our object: ,. , ••\CASA MTN'OIIETTI. \HY Dr.vn ErsTACE^-I can only writo you a very scrappy letter today, for wo are just setti&g into our apartment, -and tho rooms ere strewn in the most distracting way with boxes,,books and garments; while' ay maid, Felicie, and the Old Italian woman-Caterina, who is t o cook and manage'for us, seem to bo able to do nothmg-«-not even to-put a chair straight or order some bread to keep us from s'larv.ing-—without consulting me. Paul, tak enee, so that the sight' of hi* trim pe\son' \\\'''\' * a1, • beariDg <lown npon-us was a surprisa ITei and the Brothertnh partv, Lou-over, had been j going about together fur several days, sol that he and she had plenty of gosMn in com- [ moi'i. 3Irs: .Brot-horton's cnth:i<iasin ab>..it, Venice is. of a very -naive, hut, outs;;okon kind. It spt-m-i to -mo that she is a vei;y sus-; ceptiblcf frf-caTnw. \ Shdlivol IK P life fast and i ctwvds into it a gre:tter\iiuml't?r <-f sensations thaa, most .ppe;At' A41- this zest and pleasure • must cqnsu:-io a vast amount of nervous force, bk It-jnote tavvery rrimbns, to mQst}a ^ heCL at his easeiness , people up blase a» Paul and I arc My first nr n,.^,,,^ ^ fol . h £ Sflt be teeling about her is very much what yours was. Personally, there seems to bo all the ibg advantage' of a husband^ prerogative-, f m tf ^ nor o f w.ffich an actress is made.' Will has gone off to flaner on tho piazza, while sn0 3omo day slumblo upon tho discovery of how to bring her pvm individual flame and force to bear upon her arti I should think it not unlikely, and, altogether, I feel as though 1 shoukitake. a more hopeful view of her intellectually than you do. Tou see, my his women folk moko life tolerable at home.; which is a very unfair and spiteful version of his proceedings, for lie has really gone as much on my business as on his own. I sent him—feeling his look of misery, as ho Sat oh Ttprolmigcaseinthe middle of this chaos, \ae^f-'EustaceV ^ou men hevTer realize how toiTibly on toy mind-r-to see if he could find the English consul (whom he kno'ws a little), and discover from him, if possible, where your friends'are. It is strange, as you.say, that Miss Bretherton should not have written to me; but I incline-to put it down to our old Jacques~at~Dome, who- is gettiflgmorg and more-itflbeoiie with the weight of years and Infirmities, and is quite capable of fonwatd- ing to-us all the letters which are not worth posting, and leaving all the important ones piled tip in tho hall to await our return. It is provoking, for, if the Bretherton party are not going to stay long in Vetjice, wo may easily spend all our time In Isokirig foreaeh other; which will, indeed, boa lanlo and im- Howeyef7T have potent copctasioin of PauTs clnverrtfiss. \And rj^w,. J o'clock for'it, my dear Eustace. I must go and instruct, Caterina how not to'poison us in our dinner to-night. <Sho looks a dear old soul, but totally innocent* of 'anything but Italian clever wo women arc, how fast we leafn and how quickly we catch up hints iromWl quar- ters untjer heaven\ ^and improve\ npon them. An.actress so young and so sympathetic as Isabel Bretherton must still be very much of -an unknown quantity dramatically. I know you think that the want of training is fatal, and that popularity will stereotype her faults. It may bo so; but I am inclined to\ think, from my first sight of her, that she is a nature • that will gather from life rather what stimulaites it tlmn what dulls and vul- garizes it. Altogether, when I compare my first impressions of her with the imago of her left by your letters, i*feel that I have been •irarl. Only in <ho mntt.pr ,Q£ intelligence.^ Otherwise iir has, of course, been your descriptions of her that have- There is_ no. help t planted and nurtured ip._nj§r that st-cor'.g. sense of attraction which blossomed into lik- ing at tho moment of personal contact,\ ' .. ' • \August 10. \This afternoon wp. have been out-mill > gondola bcloiging to thi^ nuxlest establish -I don't know that Eu-itaco did (jiiu-stiou, 'Ha thought simply that she had ho conception of winit her art naily re- quiredof- he\ never would-have .because, ! of her pripularity.' - ' ! \To. wliich.\raul.repKed that,, as far as he • could make out, nobody thought more meanly | of her popularity than she did, and ho ha c , been tohthig a great deal to her about her • season. j \'I never saw a woman at.a more critlcaj, I or interesting point yf development,' ho ex- ' claimed at last, striding up and down; anitso j absorbed in tho subject that I could havo al- ' ' 'Something or other, luckily for her, set her on the right track three months ago, and it is apparently a nature on wnich nothing is lost. One can see it in tho way in which\~sho takes Venice there isn^ta scrap of her, little- as she knows about it, that isn't keen and interested, -and wideawakel' i _. » \ 'Woll, after all,' I reminded him as he was settling down to his books, 'we know- nothing about her as an actress.' '\Wo shall see,'he said;'I will fiiid out something about that too before long.', \And so he has! - ' * - . . . \Augffst 17-19. \Paul has been* devoting himself mojreaad more to the beauty, Mr. Wallaco and I loolf- ing on with considerable amusement and in- tsmt; and this afternoon, finding it in- '.Utolersble that Miss Bretherton ha§:iiot even a bowing acquaintance with any of his favor- ite plays, Augier, Dumas, Victor Hugo or anything else, he has been reading aloud to us in the garden, running On from scene to scene and speech to speech, translating as he went—she in rapt attention, and ho gesticu- lating and spouting, and, except for an ocoa- sional-quger retidoring that asa*Ja^iia_.-laai^i, getting on cajiitaily with his •English. She was i-nciianti-d; tho novelty and t8o cxcile- ia-»Bt <+f ifcalijorhn 1 h\r; ftnil.every novcand thou she would stop Patil with a little, im- perious wave of her band, and repeat tho substancoof a speech after him with -an im- petuous elan, an energy of comprehension, which drew littlo noda of satibfaOtioa out of NUMBER r hliioheaven.bolow us in the strdaniT-Q joy t _L quick! those hands, those lips! But listen, listen! it is the cruel wind rising, rising;'it chilli - .mo to -tliebone£ itchokes^itstiflijs rogi I cannot seethe river, and the cottage is gong,' [ and the shu, 0 AphillOj it is dark, so dark! -Gather tto cleser^gvad!—c-103crt-eloseii O : death is kind^-tender, like your touch! -f havo no foai's—none!' .' \She sank back-into hor chair. Anythfng morp pathetic, moi-e noble than her intona>- tjou'of those werds could not have been 'inwgmpu\r , 3e^f^t[eT^'5o*uT$^ spoken t-hera with a _more simple, a more -pltU'uiii^ Wilderness. , multitude of conflicting feelings—my own ^topire?ston3-Bffii\ i yoTlrsrthe\_realities v -of'ffie present positionand-ihe future--that I forgot-to applaud, her. ~-tt was the first time I had had any glimpse at all of ' h^ di'ftma,tioDoweri and, rough and imper- fect as the test was, it seemed to r») enough, -J-tow n ol>-t)een^-aevpted-to the FrancaU,.-. • • and to some of. the popple connected with lv^ ' \iW&n ^earg3lb.r notffingT~Gine gets a kind. j of insight from long habit, which, 1 think, one maytnisfc. Oh, you blind Eustace, hdw could yoti forget that for a creature so full of primi- tive energy, so rich in the stuff of life, noth- ing is irreparable? Education has passed her by. Well, she will go to find her education. She will make a teacher out of every friend, out of every sensation. Incident and feeling, praise and di»p] mold the sensitive, plastic material into^ shape, So far as she may have remained outside her art; the art, no doubt, has been a conventional appendage, and little more. Training would have, gfveh h'er good - POTP* yontions, whereas she basjraly picked up bad, and imperfect ones. -But no training could have given luer whatshe will e-^dehtljrsconr develop for herself, that force and flame of imagination which fuses tage_ther4nstrum£nt and idea; in one great artistic whole. .She has that imagination. You can see it in her responsive ways, her quick, sensitive emo- tion; Only let it be roused and guided to a certiup height, and„it will overleap the har- Hors* which have \ hemmed it in, and pour itself into the channels made ready-for it b y her art. . \There a t least, you havo my strong im-« pression. It is, i n many ways, Mi variance' with soma .of my most cherished principle^,,-... Jtor both ysa_jmd—I-aro perhaps inclined to U--. overrate tho value of education, whether'*; . technical or general, in its efffietronthe indjt- ^f viduality., Aiid.ol-coursc, a better technft 1 *^ -1'. prPJKM^ti v.i wou'd havet.'i-v.jd Ii5H»t VfMx^^^,. *' ton an -niurienso amount of time;, woukf hive' -prevented her front eontrac|ing>a- host of habits—-all of which she will have to --unlearn. But tho root of the matter is in her; of that '. I am sure; atid whatever weight of hoSfcilp. : L circumstanco may bo against her, she wil\. if Sho keep-i her health—as to which I am sorc.\- \\u\os , like yuuT - a littlo- \anxidut.-r-break .... throiiah it allaud triumph. ' , •' 1 ..VBtit if-jou did not ii.ideTstaud.'her quite,- ;j you have enormously helped .her; so mnchl_l w ill tell} oh tor your vuuifor.C: She \said \to . j mo yestcr.lay ahru\)t]i —no w.-i'e alone iff {• our gondola, far out on tho lugoon-r'DM *. your brother ever tell youof a conversation. - ^T. • ho and I had in tho woods at Nuneham abon*^ \ : ' '• Hr. Wallace's play T \ *• ' \Yes I nuswercd with outward boldness,. hTIta fc 11ttB\• inward:trepidirtionr*! havo nQ\sr^- ,-r;|| known anything distress hii-u so muck~£or ' ''*' a long time, stood him.' Ho thouglit you had misuhder- \ 'No,' she,said, quie;ly, but as it seemedto niQ-witk an undercurrent of eftiPtiqn. in her voice; 'I did not misunderstand him. HCo meant what he said, and I would httva forc\d the truth from him, whatever hap- pened. i was determined to make him sho^r the what Uo felt. That London season was sometimes terrihle to mo. I seemed to my- • self to bo living in two worlds—onoa wortdin which there was always a sea of faces oppo-s, site to me, or crowds about me, and a praise ringing in my ears which was enough to turn anybody's head, but which after a while re- ' pelled ma as if ther* was something liuinik iatihgin.it ; and then on the other side, a' little inner world of people I cared for and ' respected,. Who looked at me kindly, and thought for me, but to whom, as an actressy i was just pi no account at all! It was your brother who first roused that senso in .me; it -was so strange and painful, for how could I help at first believing m.aU the hubbub and applause?' '\Poor child!' I said, reaching out my M f not feel a very deep and peculiar interest in her—if f did not desire that, Marie's friend- ship should- abundantly make up to her for myibiunderihg!\ •Bid he ever really, deceive himself into im- agining that this was all! It is difficult to ; say. The mind of a man no longer young, . —-4 ^w--.~»'-*t «il fl»o bithfciatnoa hf' tluniorhh. barbai-itiesintho way of conking. And Felieio _ »lso is-vsell meaning, but ignarant, so unless 11 ment, with .our magmfiseat gondoUciv Pia-a,.L htm'and'somBirmes wudueeda strong and „.,..i, ^ u„™ P„„I „„ ™* unn.u, f» „ ^=L- i, ftnd hlS boyi to.cpnyey , K t 0-tho Udo. I got' .startlingeffect upon mysolf and Mr. Wallace. Miss Bretherton to talk to mo about her' However, Mr. Wallace might stare as IIK Jamaica cireer. Sho made us all laugh with liked^.tho twopeoplo concerned wero totally her accounts of tho blood and thunder,pieces; unC onscious of the rest of us, until at last, in 'whii-h tho audiences of the Kingstpn i a£ter the' great'death sceno in, 'the' <Nuit- theatrerevrfed. ghe. seems generally to have, Blanche,'Paul .threw, down tho book almost. played .tho 'Bandit's paughter,' the 'Smug- w ibk a. gob., and she, rising with a burst of I gler's Wife,' or ''lbs\iSuit5p7an~T^^ tier wnite arms tbwaVdB\aU- wish to have Paul oil my haiuls for a week I j an d bis boy, to.con.vey lis tath o Jjido. must bo oft This rough picnicking fife, in Venice,, of all places, is a curious little ex- perience, but I made up my mind last time we wero_ hero, that we would venture Pur precious, selves in no more hotels. The 4eat, tho masquitoes, tho horrors df'the food wre Tfiere H3o- much. \Here wo havo \EfTfaTdEHT\!!' kitchen, a cool sitting room, and if I cherae to feed Paul on lisane and niilk puddings, who is t o prevent me? i- - • \Paul had just come in with victory written on his brow. The English consul was of-no use; but, as he was strolling home, he went into St, Mark's, and there, of cofirse, ried Off by Indians,' or sonic Pthef'-tbrlllfag elemental personage of the kind, Tho 'White Lady' was', apparently, her first introduction to a more complicated order or play. It is extraordinary, when one comes to think of ii, how' little positive dramatis knowledge she must have! She knows IsomB^Shake-. Je'Sling,, imaginary lover-, and , with extraordinary skilTand memory repeated the substance of thVheroina's last\ speeches: • \ 'Aehille, beloved! my eyes are diin^-the mist&of dgkth-are-gatheringi OAphille! the whitecbtt^^i^y the river—the nest in.the rafidiw^vf^lfc^ anB mine in- the water—tha p-'^g • \hahd fpr fflio of \hers\. TJTd' Eustace make \ himself disagreeable to yotit\' \\', ..-| \'It was innre, I think,' sho answered, as J < if Tirflnr' t i r i n- »tl m .-'f » «-. .] II.TTJ-I ,1II >,.r.t,I,lV,:l l^Vi, xi'Htlll>fl... . it It.IlUt^Lil i ^%* 'VLIV* ^t tltl t tLVl \ t W\ * *Ct^* r%vy-cr -v*t^ U *•*-•*** t*.\ -~^ to carry about with him than anything con- - nected with my own'work. At least, of course, I mean before that Nuneham da/. Abf that Nuneham day-h- i-fe«it deep.' - —— . \Sho turned away from me and'leaned over the.'sile df tBS'boat, so that I could hot see her facet - .. ... j • \ 'You forced it out. of Eustacevyon know,' ; />|-|| I said, ti-ying to laiigh;at her, *you, uncom-. pVsffiftising young person I Of cpurso, he flat- tered himself that.yqu forj.-t all about bis' preaebing the-moment you- got bonis. Mea always make themselves believe what they Pv wattt to believe. '\'Why should he-want to believe BO?' she replied quicklyj 'I had -half foreseen it, I had forced it from him, and yetljelt it like a blowl It cost me-a •sleepless night, and- some--weltv some verv bitter tears. STotthafc Continued on page 3,__ •\'
