lover he was in a mood to fit poetic thoughts to his own experience, and
to utter them ardently. While he read, Selma knew that she was ever the
heroine of his imagination, which was agreeable, and she recognized
besides that his performance in itself was æsthetically attractive. Yet
in spite of the personal tribute, Selma preferred the evenings when she
herself was the elocutionist. She enjoyed the sound of her own voice,
and she enjoyed the emotions which her utterance of the rhythmic stanzas
set coursing through her brain. It was obvious to her that Wilbur was
captivated by her reading, and she delighted in giving herself up to the
spirit of the text with the reservations appropriate to an enlightened
but virtuous soul. For instance, in the case of Shelley, she gloried in
his soaring, but did not let herself forget that fire-worship was not
practical; in the case of Byron, though she yielded her senses to the
spell of his passionate imagery, she reflected approvingly that she was
a married woman.

But Littleton appreciated also that his wife should have the society of
others beside himself. Pauline introduced her promptly to her own small
but intelligent feminine circle, and pending Pauline's removal to a
flat, the Saturday evening suppers were maintained at the old
establishment. Here Selma made the acquaintance of her husband's and his
sister's friends, both men and women, who dropped in often after the
play and without ceremony for a weekly interchange of thought and
comradeship. Selma looked forward to the first of these occasions with
an eager curiosity. She expected a renewal of the Benham Institute, only
in a more impressive form, as befitted a great literary centre; that
papers would be read, original compositions recited, and many
interesting people of both sexes perform according to their specialties.
She confidently hoped to have the opportunity to declaim, "Oh, why
should the spirit of mortal be proud?" "Curfew must not ring to-night,"