“Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. We are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations. She was extremely showily dressed, and her large hooped petticoat gave additional effect to her lofty stature. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. . ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion.
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