was sunk to be a very ordinary young man, with curious and stupid
idiosyncrasies, and not nearly so rich and important as many of the
people she came in contact with. Might she have done better if she had
waited? She too stopped regretting and turned her attention to a novel.
She was just beginning to discover the charms of "Gyp." She looked up to
see Mr. Early come up the pathway, and a moment later he stood beside
her.

"Mrs. Percival," he said, "I have brought you this little vase, the
first of its kind that my artists have produced. I thought it so really
beautiful that I could not resist laying one before you as a kind of
tribute."

"Oh, it is lovely. And am I really the only person in the world who has
one?"

"You and Miss Elton." A pang of small jealousy shot through Lena's
heart. It was always and everywhere Miss Elton. "I sent her another, but
of slightly different shape. I am, as you know, a worshiper of beauty,
but all these creations of man's hands are but parodies, are they not,
Mrs. Percival, on absolute beauty? They are like ourselves, the
creatures of a day. Nature herself, in sea and air and woodland,
produces exquisite loveliness, and yet even her achievements are dwarfed
when one stands face to face with one of creation's masterpieces--a
woman."

And Mr. Early made a ponderous bow as he presented his work of art. Lena
was so impressed by this compliment that she wrote it out while it was
fresh in her memory, and when Dick came home, she read it to him. He
gave a great bellowing laugh that grated harshly on Lena's nerves; and
then at sight of her reproachful eyes, he drew himself together and gave
her a friendly pat on the shoulder, affectionate, to be sure, but quite
different from Mr. Early's chivalrous manner, and said:

"Thinks you better than his old straight-legged tables, does he? Well, I
should say so! Serves him right for being an old bachelor, and having
nothing but furniture and Ram Juna to illuminate existence. I should
expect that combination to drive a man either to drink or to blank
verse."

"I don't think it is nice of you to swear, Dick," Lena answered
severely, but on the verge of tears.

"Swear, sweetheart? Why, what do you mean?"

"Well, it's almost the same thing to talk about 'blank' verse." Dick
laughed again and went directly to the library without even noticing the
extremely lovely new dress which his wife had put on for his
edification.

Dick's limitations were be