ay be, plighted her body to him for sheer urgency of soul;
drawn her by a single unwitting-to-brain, conscious-in-blood, shy curl
outward of the sheathing leaf to the flowering of woman to him; even to
the shore of that strange sea, where the maid stands choosing this one
man for her destiny, as in a trance. So are these young ones unfolded,
shade by shade; and a shade is all the difference with them; they can
teach the poet to marvel at the immensity of vitality in 'the shadow of
a shade.'

Her father shut the glimpse of a possible speaking to him of Mrs.
Marsett, with a renewal of his eulogistic allusions to Dudley Sowerby:
the 'perfect gentleman, good citizen'; prospective heir to an earldom
besides. She bowed to Dudley's merits; she read off the honorific
pedimental letters of a handsome statue, for a sign to herself that she
passed it.

She was unjust, as Victor could feel, though he did not know how
coldly unjust. For among the exorbitant requisitions upon their
fellow-creatures made by the young, is the demand, that they be
definite: no mercy is in them for the transitional. And Dudley--and it
was under her influence, and painfully, not ignobly--was in process of
development: interesting to philosophers, if not to maidens.

Victor accused her of paying too much heed to Colney Durance's epigrams
upon their friends. He quite joined with his English world in its
opinion, that epigrams are poor squibs when they do not come out of
great guns. Epigrams fired at a venerable nation, are surely the poorest
of popgun paper pellets. The English kick at the insolence, when
they are not in the mood for pelleting themselves, or when the armed
Foreigner is overshadowing and braceing. Colney's pretentious and
laboured Satiric Prose Epic of 'THE RIVAL TONGUES,' particularly
offended him, as being a clever aim at no hitting; and sustained him,
inasmuch as it was an acid friend's collapse. How could Colney expect
his English to tolerate such a spiteful diatribe! The suicide of Dr.
Bouthoin at San Francisco was the finishing stroke to the chances of
success of the Serial;--although we are promised splendid evolutions on
the part of Mr. Semhians; who, after brilliant achievements with bat
and ball, abandons those weapons of Old England's modern renown, for a
determined wrestle with our English pronunciation of words, and rescue
of the spelling of them from the printer. His headache over the present
treatment of the verb 'To bid,'