n
endless variety of easy motion. When you thought of Kate, you remembered
precisely how she sat, how she stood, and how she walked. That was all,
and it was always the same. But is not that enough? We do not ask of
Mary Stuart's portrait that it should represent her in more than one
attitude, and why should a living beauty need more than two or three?

Kate was betrothed to her cousin Harry, Hope's brother, and, though she
was barely twenty, they had seemed to appertain to each other for a time
so long that the memory of man or maiden aunt ran not to the contrary.
She always declared, indeed, that they were born married, and that
their wedding-day would seem like a silver wedding. Harry was quiet,
unobtrusive, and manly. He might seem commonplace at first beside the
brilliant Kate and his more gifted sister; but thorough manhood is never
commonplace, and he was a person to whom one could anchor. His strong,
steadfast physique was the type of his whole nature; when he came
into the room, you felt as if a good many people had been added to the
company. He made steady progress in his profession of the law, through
sheer worth; he never dazzled, but he led. His type was pure Saxon, with
short, curling hair, blue eyes, and thin, fair skin, to which the color
readily mounted. Up to a certain point he was imperturbably patient
and amiable, but, when overtaxed, was fiery and impetuous for a single
instant, and no more. It seemed as if a sudden flash of anger went
over him, like the flash that glides along the glutinous stem of the
fraxinella, when you touch it with a candle; the next moment it had
utterly vanished, and was forgotten as if it had never been.

Kate's love for her lover was one of those healthy and assured ties
that often outlast the ardors of more passionate natures. For other
temperaments it might have been inadequate; but theirs matched
perfectly, and it was all sufficient for them. If there was within
Kate's range a more heroic and ardent emotion than that inspired by
Harry, it was put forth toward Hope. This was her idolatry; she always
said that it was fortunate Hope was Hal's sister, or she should have
felt it her duty to give them to each other, and not die till the
wedding was accomplished. Harry shared this adoration to quite a
reasonable extent, for a brother; but his admiration for Philip Malbone
was one that Kate did not quite share. Harry's quieter mood had been
dazzled from childhood by Philip, wh