Mr.Pericles would then say, with mollified irritability: "You will come to Italy to-morrow ?--Ze day after ?--not at all ?" The last was given with a roar, for lack of her immediate response.

Emilia would find a tear on her eyelids at times.

Surround herself as she might with her illusions, she had no resting-place in Wilfrid's heart, and knew it.

She knew it as the young know that they are to die on a future day, without feeling the sadness of it, but with a dimly prevalent idea that this life is therefore incomplete.

And again her blood, as with a wave of rich emotion, washed out the blank spot.