, a girl brought up in such
complete seclusion, should begin life by marrying Lansing Harold! For
you know as well as I do how he has been sought after, what his career
has been." This was true. Allowance, of course, had to be made for Mrs.
Rutherford's partiality; still, Evert knew that even with allowance
there was enough to verify her words, at least in part. Lansing Harold
had never been in the least what is called popular; he was not a man who
was liked by many persons, he took pains not to be; he preferred to
please only a few. Whether or not there had been women among those he
had tried to please, it was at least well known that women had tried to
please him. More than one had followed him about, with due regard, of
course, for the proprieties (it is not necessary to include those--who
also existed--who had violated them), finding themselves, for instance,
in Venice, when he happened to be there, or choosing his times for
visiting Rome. Now Lanse had had a way of declaring that June was the
best month for Rome; it had been interesting to observe, for a long
period, that each year there was some new person who had made the same
discovery.

"We were home long before you," said Mrs. Rutherford, when Winthrop,
having brought his reflections to a close, and enjoyed another gallop,
returned to the eyrie. "Mrs. Thorne has been here," she added; "she came
up from East Angels after Garda, and took the opportunity--she generally
_does_ take the opportunity, I notice--to pay me a visit. She never
stopped talking, with that precise pronunciation, you know, one single
minute, and I believe that's what makes her so tired all the time; I
know _I_ should be tired if I had to hiss all my s's as she does! She
had ever so many things to say; one was that when her life was sad and
painful she was able to rise out of her body--out of the flesh, she
called it (there isn't much to rise from), and float, unclothed, far
above in the air, in the realm of pure thought, I think she said. And
when I asked her if it wasn't rather unpleasant--for I assure you it
struck me so--she wasn't at all pleased, not at all. She's such an
observer of nature,--I suppose that's because she has always lived where
there was nothing but nature to observe; well, I do believe she had seen
an allegorical meaning in every single tree on the shore as she came up
the river!"

"I rather think she saw her meanings more than her trees," said
Winthrop; "I venture to