ffairs upon a
different basis; which basis, I devoutly believe, will be one of the
inevitable results of time.

But, lo! the heroine approaches and the story begins!

* * * * *

Life with some of us is but the grouping of a few brilliant or sombre
tableaux, which are like the famous lines in an epic that immortalize
the whole. Maud's life was such a one, and her years had been rather
unpicturesque until now, when the shadows began to deepen and the
lights to grow more intense. In fact, she seemed to be approaching
some sort of a climax, and she began to grow nervous about it, being
just woman enough to dwell somewhat anxiously upon her anticipated
_debut_, and to hope for at least a decent appearance in her
extremity.

The good-hearted, commonplace people of a pleasant country down the
coast--which I will call Dreamland for convenience' sake--thought
of Maud only as a gentle and humane little lady, with a comfortable
income and a character above reproach. So Maud abode in peace with her
maids at the seaside cottage, spending the still hours of Dreamland
between her rose-garden on the sunny slope to the southward and the
conservatory of lily-like nuns on the hill toward the sea.

Maud was unhappy in a world which had treated her very kindly indeed,
and it was simply because she had a dove's heart, that was always
fluttering in a strange place, and the face of a nun, that was for
ever getting looked at by all sorts of people, much as it disliked
that kind of treatment from the best of them.

The only reason why Maud preferred such a dull place as Dreamland to
the splendid metropolis up the coast was that she might have a quiet
time of it, and not be annoyed by the impudent metropolitans. In fact,
she was tired of her lovers--all save one, a fine young fellow named
Jason, but better known in Dreamland as John. I have mentioned, I
believe, that Maud was in very good circumstances: I am sorry to
add that Jason wasn't. He was rich only in his untried youth and the
promises of a glorious manhood.

Jason loved Maud, and she knew it as well as she ever knew anything in
her life--she knew it without his having told her. Had she not divined
it by the infallible intuition of the heart, she might have lived
believing herself unloved, for Jason hadn't the remotest idea of
mentioning the fact. He could barely live comfortably by himself,
frugal as he was; and he would not go to her empty-handed,