of the poetic and pictorial.

Speculating as to what he would say when he received her letter telling
of her father's misfortunes, she was obliged to confess that she "had
not the remotest idea." Matters of this sort belonged to a world on
which they had deliberately turned their backs. That is to say, she had
turned her back on it deliberately, though by training knowing its
importance, fearing that to him it would seem mundane, inappropriate,
American. This course had been well enough during the period of a
high-bred courtship, almost too fastidiously disdainful of the
commonplace; but now that the Fairy Princess had become a beggar-maid,
while Prince Charming was Prince Charming still, it was natural that the
former should recognize its insufficiency. She had recognized it fully
yesterday; but this morning, in the optimistic brightness of the golden
atmosphere, romance came suddenly to life again and confidence grew
strong. Drusilla had said that she, Olivia, knew him well enough to be
sure that he would want to do--everything right. They would do
everything right--together. They would save her father whom she loved so
tenderly, from making rash mistakes, and--who knew?--find a way,
perhaps, to rescue him in his troubles and shelter his old age.

She was so sure of herself to-day, and so nearly sure of Ashley, that
even the shock of seeing Peter Davenant coming up the driveway, between
the clumps of shrubbery, brought her no dismay. She was quick in reading
the situation. It was after eleven o'clock; he had had time to go to
Boston, and, learning that her father was not at his office, had come to
seek him at home.

She made her arrangements promptly. Withdrawing from the window before
he could see her, she bade the maid say that, Mr. Guion being ill, Miss