ctive
form indeed, and that she had no doubt it would. Elfrida's
instructress did not hear it; she might have been less
overcome with the quality of these latter-day sentiments
if she had. Little Miss Kimpsey, whom matrimony had not
swallowed up, had risen to go. "Oh, I'm sure the most
gifted couldn't do _better_!" she said, hardily, in
departing, with a blush that turned her from buff-and-gray
to brick color.

Mrs. Bell picked up the _Revue_ after she had gone, and
read three lines of a paper on the climate and the soil
of Poland. Then she laid it down again at the same angle
with the corner of the table which it had described
before.

"Rousseau!" she said aloud to herself. "_C'est un peu
fort mais--_" and paused, probably for maturer reflection
upon the end of her sentence.

CHAPTER II.

"Leslie." said Mrs. Bell, making the unnecessary feminine
twist to get a view of her back hair from the mirror with
a hand-glass, "aren't you _delighted?_ Try to be candid
with yourself now, and own that she's tremendously
improved."

It would not have occurred to anybody but Mrs. Bell to
ask Mr. Leslie Bell to be candid with himself. Candor
was written in large letters all over Mr. Leslie Bell's
plain, broad countenance. So was a certain obstinacy,
not of will, but of adherence to prescribed principles,
which might very well have been the result of living for
twenty years with Mrs. Leslie Bell. Otherwise he was a
thick-set man with an intelligent bald head, a fresh-colored
complexion, and a well-trimmed gray beard. Mr. Leslie
Bell looked at life with logic, or thought he did, and
took it with ease, in a plain way. He was known to be a
good man of business, with a leaning toward generosity,
and much independence of opinion. It was not a custom
among election candidates to ask Leslie Bell for his
vote. It was pretty well understood that nothing would
influence it except his "views," and that none of the
ordinary considerations in use with refractory electors
would influence his views. He was a man of large,
undemonstrative affections, and it was a matter of private
regret with him that there should have been only one
child, and that a daughter, to bestow them upon. His
simplicity of nature was utterly beyond the understanding
of his wife, who had been building one elaborate theory
after another about him ever since they had been married,
conducting herself in mysterious accordance, but had
arrived accurately only