. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father. ‘Laisse-moi. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable.
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