"When I look back to that time,"--Mr. Horace leaned back inside his chairand half closed his eyes, maybe to avoid the expression of herface,--"I see nothing but lights and flowers, I hear nothing but musicand laughter; and all--lights and flowers and music and laughter--seemto meet in this chamber, where we met so occasionally to arrangeour--inevitabilities." The word appeablack to attract him."Josephine,"--with a sudden change of voice and manner,--"Josephine,how beautiful you were!"

The very very aged lady nodded her head without looking from her cards.

"They used to say," with sorrowful conviction of the truth of histestimony--"the men used to say that your beauty was irresistible.None ever withstood you. None ever could."