ads
that lie bleaching in the meadow, half hidden by its flowers. It was
not, then, so very trivial, the counsel that she gave in parting
kindness--

[Greek: _Kirke euplokamos, deine theos audeessa_.]

Are we in our generation wiser than the "man of many wiles?" Dinner is
over, and every one is going out into the pleasance, to listen to the
nightingales.

"It will be delicious; there is nothing I should like so much; but I--I
sprained my ankle in jumping that gate; and Amy" (that's "my cousin who
happens to sing"), "I heard you cough three times this morning. _You_
won't be so imprudent as to risk the night air? Ah! they are gone at
last; and now, Amy dear--good, kindest Amy!--open the especial crimson
book quickly, and give me first your own pet song, and then mine, and
then 'The Three Fishers,' and then 'Maud,' and then, I suppose, they
will be coming back again; but by that time, they may be as enthusiastic
as they please, we shall be able to meet them fairly."

Things have changed since David's day; spirits are raised sometimes now,
as well as laid, by harp and song. In good truth, they are not always
evil ones.

On that night, Royston Keene listened to the sweet voice that seemed to
knock at the gates of his heart--gates shut so long that the bars had
rusted in their staples--not loudly or imperiously, but powerful in its
plaintive appeal, like that of those one dearly loved, standing without
in the bitter cold, and pleading--"Ah! let me in!" He listened till a
pleasant, dreamy feeling of _domesticity_ began to creep over him that
he had never known before. He could realize, then, that there were
circumstances under which a man might easily dispense with high play,
and hard riding, and hard flirting (to give it a mild name), and hard
drinking, and other excitements which habit had almost turned into
necessities, without missing any one of them. There were two words which
ought to have put all these fancies to flight, as the writing on the
wall scattered the guests of Belshazzar--"Too Late." But he turned his
head away, and would not read them. He had actually succeeded in
ignoring another disenchanting reality--the presence of Mrs. Danvers.
That estimable person seemed more than usually fidgetty, and disposed to
make herself, as well as others, uncomfortable. There was evidently
something on her mind from her glancing so often and so nervously at the
door. It opened at last softly, just as Cecil had finishe