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homelike melody, and the Common Prayer bring partners -- their father's usually Book in your families. I am more struck benevolent countenance looked as black as by pleasant resemblances than by anything thunder. else."
“After the ball this morning Minny On the day of his departure from Amer- says 'Well, Papa, I think it was very imica, which was sudden, he sent the follow- pudent of us to think of asking to bring ing note to Mr. Reed:
partners to such a ball. Why, it was the
most beautiful thing I ever saw. “MY DEAR REED,– When you get this, “And I was pretty well for the ist time remum-mum-ember me to kick-kick
this ever so long and thought of going. kind ffu-fffu-ffriends ... a sudden reso- Lucky I did n't. Had refused Sheriff's lution - to - mum-mum-morrow ... in
dinner on plea of being too unwell to dine the Bu-bu-baltic. Good-by, my dear kind
out. friend, and all kind friends in Phila
"I am glad it was such a success and delphia. I did n't think of going away will sign my name some other day as that when I left home this morning; but it's of your most humble servant.” the best way. I think it is best to send
In an earlier letter to Mrs. Brookfield, back 25 per cent. to poor Hazard. Will while “Vanity Fair” was in course of pubyou kindly give him the enclosed; and de- lication in monthly numbers, Thackeray pend on it, I shall go and see Mrs Booth wrote, “You know you are only a piece of when I go to London, and tell her all Amelia, my mother is another half, my about you! My heart is uncommonly poor little wife y est pour beaucoup." heavy: and I am yours gratefully and af- Being in London and free from any enfectionately,
gagement for the favorable morning of "W.M.T."
July 18, 1906, the ninety-fifth anniver
sary of Thackeray's birth, I drove out to In an undated letter relating to the Kensal Green with a friend to see his death of G. A. à Becket, who died in grave, as well as that of his American adAugust, 1856, written to F. M. Evans mirer, John Lothrop Motley, which is not from Aix-la-Chapelle, Thackeray says: far distant. They are among an army of
“I have only just read of our dear good more than one hundred thousand who à Becket's death, and think how I saw him have been buried in the famous cemetery only six weeks since, with his children during the last seven decades. It is about about him. Whose turn is next? God two miles beyond Paddington on the road help us. Whoever heard him say an un- to Harrow. “At Paddington,” wrote kind word? Can't we as his old com- Leigh Hunt in 1843, "begins the ground rades, do something to show his poor of my affections, continuing thro mead widow and family our sense of his worth? and green lane till it reaches Hampstead.” It is through my connection with Punch It was thought that Thackeray would be that I owe the good chances which have of buried in Westminster Abbey, but some late befallen me, and have had so many a obstacles stood in the way, as they also did kind offer of help in my own days of trou- to his being placed by the side of Goldble that I would thankfully aid a friend smith in the Temple churchyard; and so whom death has called away.”
a grave was selected for him in Kensal The merry, unsigned note which fol- Green. An ivy-covered, recumbent granite lows (shown on page 336, in facsimile) stone bears the simple record: is addressed to an unknown lady, as it "William Makepeace Thackeray, born bears no name:
July 18, 1811: died December 24, 1863."
Of all his intimate friends and contem“The day after the [ball] poraries included in the throng of some “P.S. Somebody had told the girls that fifteen hundred at the cemetery on that they might ask & I told them they had mild and springlike morning, it is believed taken a liberty.
that Sir Theodore Vartin was the last "When the girls told me that they had survivor. Carlyle was too ill to be preswritten to you to ask whether they might ent at the burial of his friend. 1 Willis P. Hazard, a young bookseller under whose auspices Thackeray repeated in Philadelphia his lectures
on the Georges, which were not a success ; in fact he lost money by the speculation.
Lady Ritchie, referring to two articles it has gone on till now! and the welcome by the present writer that appeared in and friendship he so appreciated have not The CENTURY for December, 1901, and ceased. I often wish he could have known January, 1902, descriptive of her father's how many to come there were to undervisits to the United States, writes: stand and appreciate not him so much as
“How happily you have brought back the things he loved and believed in and the feeling and atmosphere of those old respected. For he cared more for sympatimes! My Father, who went away to
thy than for actual personal appreciation, America so ill and depressed, came back though he loved friendship too. . . . How cheered and made happy by the friends' often I have heard my Father speak of his welcome he found there. I think indeed many good friends in America."
know your ambassadress, Mrs. Boulger?"
and she had replied that, No, she seldom RS. LIDCOTE, as the huge, men- left Florence, and had n't been to Rome
acing mass of New York defined for more than a day since the Boulgers itself far off across the waters, shrank back had been sent to Italy. She was so used into her corner of the deserted deck and to these set phrases that it cost her no sat listening with a kind of unreasoning effort to repeat them. And the captain terror to the steady onward drive of the had promptly changed the subject. screws.
No, she did n't, as a rule, mind the past, She had set out on the voyage quietly because she was used to it and understood enough,-in what she called her “reasona- it. It was a great concrete fact in her ble" mood, but the week at sea had given path that she had to walk around every her too much time to think of things, had time she moved in any direction. But now, left her too long alone with the past. in the light of the dreadful event that had
When she was alone, it was always the summoned her from Italy,—the sudden, past that occupied her. She could n't get unanticipated news of her daughter's diaway from it, and she did n't any longer vorce from Horace Pursh and immediate care to. During her long years of exile remarriage with Wilbour Barkley, - the she had made her terms with it, had past, her own poor, miserable past, started learned to accept the fact that it would up at her with eyes of accusation, became, always be there, huge, obstructing, en- to her disordered fancy, like the “afflicted” cumbering, much bigger and more domi- relative suddenly breaking away from nant than anything the future could possi- nurses and keepers and publicly parading bly conjure up. And, at any rate, she was the horror and misery one had, all the long sure of it, she understood it, knew how to years, so patiently screened and secluded. reckon with it; she had learned to screen Yes, there it had stood before her and manage and protect it as one does an through the long, agitated weeks since the afflicted member of one's family.
news had come, – during her interminable There had never been any danger of journey from India, where Leila's letter her being allowed to forget the past. It had overtaken her, and the feverish halt looked out at her from the face of every in her apartment in Florence, where she acquaintance, it appeared suddenly in the had had to stop and gather up her posseseyes of strangers when a word enlightened sions for a fresh start,—there it had stood them: "Yes, the Mrs. Lidcote, don't you grinning at her with a new balefulness know?" It had sprung at her the first which seemed to say, “Oh, but you 've got day out, when, across the dining-room, to look at me now, because I 'm not only from the captain's table, she had seen Mrs. your own past, but Leila's present.” Lorin Boulger's revolving eye-glass sud- Certainly it was a master-stroke of denly pause and the eye behind it grow as those arch-ironists of the shears and spinblank as a dropped blind. The next day, dle to duplicate her own story in her of course, the captain had asked, "You daughter's. Mrs. Lidcote had always fancied somewhat grimly that, having so the conversation of the persons sitting next signally failed to be of use to Leila in to her on deck - two lively young women other ways, she would at least serve her with the latest Paris hats on their heads as a warning. She had even at times con- and the latest New York ideas beneath sciously abstained from defending herself, them. These ladies, as to whom it would from making the best of her case, had have been impossible for a person with stoically refused to plead extenuating cir- Mrs. Lidcote's primitive categories to decumstances, lest Leila's impulsive sympa- termine whether they were married or unthy should lead to deductions that might married, “nice” or “horrid,” or any one react disastrously on her own life. And or other of the definite things which young now that very thing had happened, and women, in her youth and her society, were Mrs. Lidcote could hear the whole of New of necessity constrained to be, had revealed York saying with one voice: “Yes, Leila 's a familiarity with the world of New York done just what her mother did. With such that, again according to Mrs. Lidcote's an example, what else could you expect?" traditions, should have implied a recog
Yet if she had been an example, poor nized place in it. But in the present fluid woman, she had been an awful one; she state of manners what did anything imply had been, one would have supposed, of except what their hats implied - that one more use as a deterrent than a hundred could n't tell what was coming next? blameless mothers as incentives. For how They seemed, at any rate, to frequent a could any one who had seen anything of group of idle and opulent people who exeher life in the last eighteen years have the cuted the same gestures and revolved on courage to repeat so disastrous an experi- the same pivots as Mrs. Lidcote's daughment?
ter and her friends: their Coras, Matties, Well, logic in such cases did n't count, and Mabels seemed at any moment likely example did n't count, nothing, she sup- to reveal familiar patronymics, and once posed, counted but having the same im- one of the speakers, summing up a discuspulses in the blood; and that presumably sion of which their neighbor had missed was the dark inheritance she had bestowed the beginning, had affirmed with headlong upon her daughter. Leila had n't con
assurance: “Leila ? Oh, Leila's all sciously copied her; she had simply "taken
right." after" her, had been, so to speak, a pro- Could it be her Leila, the mother had jection of her own long-past rebellion. wondered, with a sharp thrill of curiosity
Mrs. Lidcote had deplored, when she and apprehension? If only they would started, that the Utopia was
mention surnames! But their talk leaped steamer, and would take eight full days to elliptically from allusion to allusion, their bring her to her unhappy daughter; but unfinished sentences dangled over abysses now, as the moment of reunion ap- of conjecture, and it was one of the marks proached, she would willingly have turned of their state that they gave their bewilthe boat about and Aed back to the high dered hearer the impression not so much seas. It was not only because she felt of talking only of their intimates, but of still so unprepared to face what New being intimate with every one alive. York had in store for her, but because she Her old friend Franklin Ide could have needed more time to dispose of what the told her, perhaps; but here was the last Utopia had already given her. The past day of the voyage, and she had n't yet was bad enough, but the present and fu- found courage to ask him. Great as had ture were worse, because they were less been the joy of discovering his name on comprehensible, and because, as she grew the passenger-list, and seeing his friendly, older, surprises and inconsequences trou- hirsute countenance among the throng bled her more than the worst certainties. against the taffrail at Cherbourg, she had
There was Mrs. Boulger, for instance. as yet said nothing to him except, when In the light, or rather the darkness, of they had met, “Of course I 'm going out new developments, it might really be that to Leila." Mrs. Boulger had not meant to cut her, She had said nothing to Franklin Ide but had simply failed to recognize her. because she had always instinctively shrunk Mrs. Lidcote had arrived at this extraor- from taking him into her confidence. She dinary hypothesis simply by listening to was sure he felt sorry for her, sorrier per
haps than any one had ever felt; but he “I think you 'll find—” he wavered for a had always paid her the supreme tribute word—“that things are different now- of not showing it. His attitude allowed altogether easier.” her to imagine that compassion was not "That's what I 've been wonderingthe basis of his feeling for her, and it was since we started." She was determined part of her joy in his friendship that it now to speak. She moved nearer, so that was the one relation seemingly uncondi- their arms touched, and she could drop tioned by her state, the one in which she her voice to the lowest murmur.
"You could think and feel and behave like any see, it all came on me in a flash.
My goother woman.
ing off to India and Siam on that long Now, however, as the cloudy problem trip kept me away from letters for weeks of New York loomed nearer, she began to at a time; and she did n't want to tell me regret that she had not spoken, had not at beforehand-oh, I understand that, poor least questioned him about the hints she child! You know how good she's always had gathered on the way.
He did not been to me; how she 's tried to spare me. know the two ladies next to her, he did And she knew, of course, what a state of not even, as it happened, know Mrs. Lorin horror I'd be in. She knew I'd rush to Boulger; but he knew New York, and her at once and try to stop it. So she New York was the sphinx whose riddle never gave me a hint of anything, and she she must read or perish.
even managed to muzzle Susy SuffernAlmost as the thought passed through you know Susy is the one of the family her mind his stooping shoulders and griz- who keeps me posted about things at home. zled head detached themselves against the I don't yet see how she prevented Susy’s dazzle of light in the west, and he saun- telling me; but she did. And her first tered down the empty deck and dropped letter, the one I got up at Bangkok, siminto the chair at her side.
ply said the thing was over,- the divorce, "You ’re expecting the Barkleys to meet I mean, -and that the very next day she'd you, I suppose ?” he asked composedly. -well, I suppose there was no use wait
It was the first time she had heard any ing; and he seems to have behaved as well one pronounce her daughter's new name, as possible, to have wanted to marry her and it immediately occurred to her that as much as her friend, who was shy and inarticulate, “Who? Barkley ?” he helped her out. had been trying to say it all the way over "I should say so! Why, what do you and had at last shot it out at her only be
suppose- He interrupted himself. cause he felt it must be now or never. “He 'll be devoted to her, I assure you,"
“I don't know. I cabled, of course. he said. But I believe she 's at-they ’re at-his "Oh, of course ; I 'm sure he will. He's place somewhere."
written me---really beautifully. But it 's “Oh, Barkley's; yes, near Lenox, is n't a terrible strain on a man's devotion, a it? But she 's sure to come to town to
terrible test. I 'm not sure that Leila meet you."
realizes" He said it so easily and naturally that Ide sounded again his little, reassuring her own constraint was relieved, and sud- laugh. “I 'm not sure that you realize. denly, before she knew what she meant to They 're all right." do, she had burst out, “She may dislike It was the very phrase that the young the idea of seeing people."
lady in the next seat had applied to the Ide, whose absent, short-sighted gaze unknown "Leila," and its recurrence on had been fixed on the slowly gliding water, Ide's lips Aushed Mrs. Lidcote with fresh turned in his seat to stare at his com- courage. panion.
“I wish I knew just what you mean. "Who? Leila?" he said, with an in- The two young women next to me—the credulous laugh.
ones with the wonderful hats—have been MIrs. Lidcote Alushed to her faded hair, talking in the same way.” and grew pale again. “It took me a long "What? About Leila?” time -- to get used to it," she stammered, “About a Leila; I fancied it might be forcing a smile.
mine. And about society in general. All His look grew gently commiserating. their friends seem to be divorced; some of