The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. You see, I’m selfish. He began to talk again in quick undertones that she could not clearly hear. The woman shrugged her shoulders. “You would believe that life is kindled by the passions alone. "No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant, "as you proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you might choose to see him yourself. ’ She shook her head sadly. She kept opening her eyes and looking at it. "I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot. "I generally take a party. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. ’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her. ’ Gerald shrugged.
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