ich can stand up in the face of the noblest and daintiest,
and bare his gnarled arms and say, with a consciousness of superior
power, "Look at a real man!" I should have been able to show you
antecedents which, if not intensely romantic, are not altogether
antagonistic to romance. But the present fashion of associating with
one particular class everything that is ludicrous and bombastic
overpowers me when I think of it in relation to myself and your known
sensitiveness. When the well-born poetess of good report melts into.
. .'

Having got thus far, a faint-hearted look, which had begun to show itself
several sentences earlier, became pronounced. She threw the writing into
the dull fire, poked and stirred it till a red inflammation crept over
the sheet, and then started anew:--

'DEAR MR. JULIAN,--Not knowing your present rank as composer--whether
on the very brink of fame, or as yet a long way off--I cannot decide
what form of expression my earnest acknowledgments should take. Let
me simply say in one short phrase, I thank you infinitely!

'I am no musician, and my opinion on music may not be worth much: yet
I know what I like (as everybody says, but I do not use the words as a
form to cover a hopeless blank on all connected with the subject), and
this sweet air I love. You must have glided like a breeze about
me--seen into a heart not worthy of scrutiny, jotted down words that
cannot justify attention--before you could have apotheosized the song
in so exquisite a manner. My gratitude took the form of wretchedness
when, on hearing the effect of the ballad in public this evening, I
thought that I had not power to withhold a reply which might do us
both more harm than good. Then I said, "Away with all emotion--I wish
the world was drained dry of it--I will take no notice," when a lady
whispered at my elbow to the effect that of course I had expressed my
gratification to you. I ought first to have mentioned that your
creation has been played to-night to full drawing-rooms, and the
original tones cooled the artificial air like a fountain almost.

'I prophesy great things of you. Perhaps, at the time when we are
each but a row of bones in our individual graves, your genius will be
remembered, while my mere cleverness will have been long forgotten.

'But--you must allow a woman of experience to say this--the undoubted