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own room in a state of work made a movement which had no which precluded all ordinary result. She was trying to make speech; if he spoke to Lil it would up her mind to go quietly and only be to call to her to find him write a refusal to Charlie Newman, a book or a reference. He did this and then she would walk down the once or twice, and it was a great road with Lady Lynne and post it. relief to her to turn her mind per- But she could not make up her force from her perplexities.

mind. She must write to-day. She Post time came and went. No knew something of what Charlie letter was written Newman was enduring. But she “This is dreadful !” said Lil to was so incapable of decision-and herself, sticking some flowers into as things were she did not see a her hair, for dinner, so badly that chance of a real talk with her they all fell out again. father. Of course she could easily That evening nothing could be speak for a little while to him; of done with her. She lay like a course he would say, “Do you care log on a sofa, thinking of nothing for him, little girl? Write and but of the fog of indecision she tell him to come down." That was was in. Gran sat knitting, and not what she wanted. She wanted looking every now and then at this to say-oh, ever so many things— picture of unconscious beauty on to talk her heart out, as it were. the sofa, and made up her mind

She determined to get her father that Lil had done something very alone in the afternoon, when he wrong. took his fresh air before dinner. She yearned over the child, for That would be early enough for she believed that unless she herself her to send a letter by the after effected her salvation no one else noon post.

would ; and then the end of that So she sat down again to read to joyous life would be hell-fire for Gran.

ever. Brough she regarded as In the afternoon Lady Lynne lost, although she still made an called, and seeing poor Lil's weary occasional attempt to redeem him; face, thought she was being bored and it is small wonder that her by her Gran. So, like a good very fun was gloomy when she reSamaritan, she stayed and talked garded the best part of the human merrily, with her dexterous skill, race as lost, and believed with making Gran laugh; even Lil absolute sincerity and the vividsmiled. But her heart sank when ness of imaginative anticipation she heard her father's whistle for that these two beings so dear to her the dogs, and then the slam of the were destined to be burned evergate. He had gone for a long lastingly. walk by himself. Why had she As she believed in the innate not thought of that! He never did depravity of the human soul, she it except when Gran was with naturally concluded, seeing Lil in them, but sometimes he went out so strange a mood, that she had alone then.

done something very naughty. So He would not return till the post she began to talk to her very earhad long gone.

nestly, quoting the Old Testament She must decide for herself now. with a fluency which showed that Lady Lynne thought Lil appeared she was a thorough student of it. like a sort of uneasy ghost. She Lil said nothing. The future sat on her chair, pale, with a fixed tortures of hell had small dread for smile, and every now and then her, with her poor little heart in a

kind of Hades of uncertainty. She disturbing of Gran's rest by openlistened, lying still upon her sofa, ing the door. until it was time to go to bed. And now she stood, with pale

Brough always deserted the cheeks, and very wide-open eyes, drawing-room about nine o'clock, before Brough's writing-table. and worked in his own den until Why, Baby, what is it ?” he the small hours of the morning. asked, much amazed. He was just achieving a great re- She came round, and, standing putation, and none who have not beside him, gave him the letter in done this, or endeavoured to do it, which Charlie Newman had, as he can guess at the herculean labours said, laid his soul bare. which it involves. The unimagi- She looked at her father's face, native aphorism that genius is only which grew nervous, and worked a untiring industry is that most false little as he read it. Twice he read thing, a half truth. Genius is it through ; then he looked at the wasted, as far as the world is con- date, and put it down. cerned, without untiring industry. Well, what have you said ?" It must include it, for the world re- The question was put with an quires a persistent hammering at easy cheerfulness, as if it were cerbefore it can appreciate. The pub- tain to be right whichever way she lic, with regard to genius, is much answered. He always assumed that like a Scotchman with regard to a tone with her, for he had been joke—make a good big hole in its forced into bitter rebellion against head, and you may be able to make authority in his own youth, and he it appreciate your point. No man would rather Lil looked on him as who really loves his bed, his pipe, brother than as father. The result society, or solitude, better than was, as might be expected-he was work, will make his mark upon the both to her. hard head of the public.

She looked up piteously now as Brough knew this, and shut him. he asked her this question. self away from temptation for the “I haven't said anything." greater part of the twenty-four “ You haven't answered this hours. Not even Lil penetrated letter yet?” his solitude when he worked at “No,” said Lil, feeling a little night.

guilty at the quick tone in which Consequently he was a good deal the second question was asked. surprised at about twelve o'clock “ You have left that unanswered?

this particular night to be --that's too bad, Lil; he'll think aroused from his abstraction by the

you a little flirt.” appearance of a kind of pink and This was said so gravely that Lil white ghost on the other side of felt entirely crushed, and made no his writing-table. He stared in answer. Her father took up the some astonishment for a second ; letter and read it again. Then be but at the end of the second dis- took out his pockethandkerchief covered that the ghost was Lil in and pretended to have a cold. her dressing-gown.

“I say, I'm sorry for that fel. Gran had been asleep for a couple low, Lil-he's confoundedly in of hours. Lil knew by experience earnest. I did not give him credit that the faintest sound would wake for being so much in earnest. He her ; but, having tossed herself must have felt bad all to-day. about until her small brain began Lil, you must go before breakfast to reel, she put on her pink dress- to-morrow and telegraph to him." ing-gown and risked the possible “Do what, papa ?" exclaimed



Lil, looking up with mouth and “Oh, but, papa, do listen to me!” eyes all wide open in amazement and then Lil poured out herself as

“ Telegraph to him," repeated well as she could, in a series of Brough Warrington, with decision. incoherencies : and obtained what “ One way or the other—whatever she had come home for-advice. the answer is to be—he must have * * * * * it to-morrow morning; and which Charlie Newman went home to is it to be ?”

his rooms in the middle of the “ That's just what I don't know," day, professedly for lunch. If he said Lil, with pathetic helplessness. could but have seen Lil, then !

Brough lay back in his chair and sitting at the lunch table, a red laughed.

spot on each cheek, too excited and "Well, you are a little muff," he too alarmed at what she had done said, “not to know your own that morning, to eat a morsel of

food! “ It's very nice to laugh, I dare He went home, pronouncing say," said Lil, with a very feeble himself emphatically a fool, a silly effort at her dignified manner;“ but fool, to still hope. And yet he what am I to do? You don't like eyed the servant that opened the him. I have heard you call him a door hungrily-was there a letter prig and goody-goody. I don't for him ? The landlady, who was believe you will like me to marry on the stairs called to him. him, and I don't want to marry him “There is a telegram for you, at all; for I don't think I like him sir,” she said, “it's on your table myself. The only difficulty is that upstairs, and I opened it, thinking I can't refuse him.”

to send it on to you if it was imBrough laughed again a little." portant; but it didn't seem to be

“Baby, you are a delicious small important, sir, so I left it.” monkey,” he said ; “ do you really He ran upstairs—that could be mean all you say ?”.

nothing. He took the envelope “I do, indeed.”

and opened it without interest. “Well, if you can't refuse him, “From Lil Warrington to Charlie I shouldn't : and I expect he will Newman. Ask papa — no, on know what to make of that second thoughts, ask grandposition.”


(To be concluded in the next number.)


The name of Margaret Fuller, child found her place in her Countess d’Ossoli, shines out father's study, where she was among a fair constellation of taught English and Latin grammar American writers and thinkers. simultaneously, and began to read She was a friend of Nathaniel Latin at six years old. Hawthorne, of Emerson, of Margaret left among her papers Thoreau. She moved among some introductory chapters to an those and others whose names are unfinished autobiographic romance; well known to the world. As an and these papers are used by her original thinker and a rare con- biographers as an account of her versationalist, she held her place own childhood. Her brother, in a amid a collection of men who preface to a volume in which this mark a pure and beautiful phase appears, considers the picture of of American literature. As an their father is too stern, and author, her position is well known; therefore, it is to be supposed, not but Margaret, powerful and beau- intended for an absolute life study. tiful as is a large portion of her But as he leaves the pages in queswritten work, as a writer is tion without further remark, and evidently but a fraction of herself. supplies no other particulars of his An American Universalist minister, sister's early youth, we are left to whom we have met, who in his accept Margaret's own account. She earlier days attended some of her was the eldest child of Timothy classes for young men, has often Fuller and Margaret Crane. Mr. said, when asked to give some Fuller “had great distinction at idea of her, that it was of little the Bar and a large professional use attempting to describe the practice. He was untiring in his subtle qualities which made up industry, grudged the hours nature her personality. Her sway over demands for sleep, was a fine classic those who loved her was partly scholar, and an extensive reader." that of keen intellectual power; Her mother, Margaret Crane, but it also very greatly arose from seemed to have been of so sweet and a strong magnetic influence and a joyous a character as to call forth nature which glowed and burned the highest descriptive faculties of with love.

her children and friends in their From childhood she showed a endeavour to leave some record of marked character. Her intellect it. A few sentences of Margaret's was extraordinarily developed in these chapters of autobiography while she was still very young. A give an idea of her mother which is “joyful child, with light flowing more distinct than that imparted by locks and bright face,” she had longer descriptions. “My father's but little joyfulness in her life, love for her,” she says, “was the save in her books. Her mother green spot on which he stood apart was delicate and burdened by from the commonplaces of a mere younger children. This elder bread-winning, bread-bestowing existence. She was one of those fair or twice in a hundred years. That and flower-like natures which some- the pressure was so high that, times spring up even beside the though the pleasure was intense to most dusty highways of life-a the child, it left a memory of pain creature not to be shaped into a in after years, is evident. Such merely useful instrument, but high pressure would be considered bound by one law with the blue sky, by most parents as unnecessary the dew, and the frolic birds. Of and even wrong for a girl; yet all persons whom I have known when we see a Margaret Fuller she had in her most of the angelic emerge from it, it is difficult to -of that spontaneous love for believe that it need be harmful. every living thing—for man, and Even if much of the public school beast, and tree, which restores the education is useless, and the classics golden age.” She was as full, says are forgotten except by a proportion, her son Richard Fuller, of the elas- yet the hard work produces a certain ticity of life, and her heart as over vigour and toughness of brain and flowing with the music of nature, as gives a capacity for application. the early songsters of the spring Even though the growing tendency

Her fondness for flowers was towards the education of Englishalmost a passion, and her son gives women should not produce many a charming picture of her working Margaret Fullers in our midst, yet at her flower bed. She would it must tend to remove the curse stoop over it and toil upon it of frivolity from the sex by trainthrough long sunny hours. Her ing the powers of application. unwearied labours in the heat That Margaret's world of enjoyattracted the admiration even of ment was wide and glorious, the hardy farmers. “Her expres- although she speaks of her childsion,” he goes on to say “as she hood as unhappy and unnatural, is knelt by the flower bed and bent revealed in her language when she her near-sighted gaze close to a turns to the authors she read and plant, and discovering some new the dreams she indulged in. Yet unfolding promise of beauty, it is possible that she suffered turned round to announce it with more than many less intelligent a childlike simplicity and a de- children might have done under lighted smile, I think can never the severe educational system put fade from the memories of her upon her, because, although she children.”

was full of vivid intellectual life, But Margaret, though gladdened the love within her was a real by this gentle mother's influence, stirring of the spirit. was subject intellectually to a She has been often regarded as stern guidance. Although she is especially intellectual; but it seems considered to have exaggerated, possible to claim for her that for some purpose or other, the she was, instead of that, esover-tasking of her brain in child. pecially loving. This may seem hood, yet it is very plain that the strange when her intellectual work she accomplished was severe, power and weight are considered ; and that she received an education but she is remarkable not by force such as is seldom obtained except at of intellect at the cost of other an English public school, and per faculties, but by an intensity of her haps not often there. Her whole being which made her not naturally powerful mind was fos- only more intelligent and thoughtful tered under conditions which are than others, but also more loving. granted to a woman perhaps once Shakespeare first caught hold of

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