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ook me to see her the other day; she seems intelligent and agreeable, and I daresay I shall find her kind and pleasant enough." "Since such is the programme you have marked out, I trust that no disappointments await you, and that all your bright dreams may be realized. But if it should prove otherwise, and you grow weary of your art, sick of isolation, and satiated with Italy, remember that I shall welcome you home and gladly share with you all that I possess. You are embarking in an experiment which thousands have tried before you, and wrecked happiness upon; but I have no right to control your future, and certainly no desire to discourage you. At all events, I hope our separation will be brief." A short silence followed, broken at last by Electra, who watched him keenly as she spoke-- "Tell me something about Irene. Of course, in a small town like W----, you must see her frequently." "By no means. I think I have seen her but three times since her childhood--once riding with her father, then accidentally at church, and again a few evenings before I left, at the graveyard, where she was dressing a tombstone with flowers. There we exchanged a few words for the first time, and this reminds me that I am bearer of a message yet undelivered. She inquired after you, and desired me to tender you her love and best wishes." "I have her here in crayons; tell me what you think of the likeness." She took down a portfolio and selected the head of her quondam playmate, holding it under the gaslight, and still scrutinizing her cousin's countenance. He took it, and looked gravely, earnestly, at the lovely features. "It scarcely does her justice; I doubt whether any portrait ever will. Beside, the expression of her face has changed materially since this was sketched. There is a harder outline now about her mouth, less of dreaminess in the eyes, more of cold _hauteur_ in the whole face. If you desire it, I can in one line of Tennyson photograph her proud beauty, as I saw her mounted on her favourite horse, the week that I left home-- "'Faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null!'" He laid the drawing back in the open portfolio, crossed the room, and took up his hat. "Where are you going, Russell? Can't you spend the evening with me at Aunt Ruth's?" "No, thank you; I must go. There is to be a great political meeting at Tammany Hall to-night, and I am particularly anxious to attend." "What! are you, to
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