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    Software name: appdown
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      Leaving the question unanswered,as he must needs do, until time and experience should come, to his help,Bergan turned anew to the contemplation of the Mercury; which seemed to grow in beauty and power, as he continued to look. It would be hard to say how much of this pleasurable effect was due to the inherent charm of the work, and how much to the spell shed from the rapt face and softly illuminated eyes of the artist. Many a work that we look upon but coldly, would quickly find its way to our hearts, if we knew enough of its history and its author, to give us the clue to its subtler spirit and aim; while those which we love without such knowledge, would, by its help, be transfiguredglorified. If we could stand with Michael Angelo before his "Moses," or with Guido before his triumphant "Archangel," what new lights of interpretation would be lit for us at the eyes and lips of those great masters!His name was Chetwynde, so was your fathers. Both your grandfather and your father are dead, and your mother, as you know, is dead too. He glanced at the photograph.

      Stop it, boys! he shouted in a leather-lunged voice. Stop it, or some of you will be plugging Her Majestys mail.

      Her husband read to her for the greater part of the long gloomy day. He read St. Thomas Kempis for some part of the time. The book had been on the little table by her side throughout her illness. He read two or three of Frederick Robertson's sermons, and for occasional respite from too serious thought he read her favourite poemsAdona?s, Alastor, and some of Shelley's lovely lyrics, and those passages in Childe Harold which had acquired a new charm for her since she had grown familiar with Rome.

      "It was hard work standing about and trying to sell things all day, and persuading stingy old gentlemen to put into raffles for talking dolls," said Miss Baynham. "I have pitied shop-girls ever since."



      Like most small country settlements, little fraternities of well-to-do people who think themselves the beginning and end of the world, Trelasco was slow to rise to any festivity in the way of party-giving. So it was about two months after Colonel Disney's return before the friendly calls and interchange of small civilities culminated in a dinner-party at Glenaveril. It seemed, indeed, only right and natural that the great house of the district, great by reason of Lord Lostwithiel's non-residence, should be the first to open its doors in a ceremonial manner to the colonel and his womankind. The invitation to his sister might be taken as an especial compliment, arms outstretched to receive one who was a stranger in the land.


      "You need not leave Trelasco," she said gently. "I am going away to-morrow."