ive experiences. I notice that
in his stories he always seems to be groping about for some agreeable
domestic conclusion. His room shows it. It looks as if a woman had been
in it, but had left before she had put the final touch to it. She ought
to come back."

VII.

MR. BUCKINGHAM MAKES A MOVE.

A week after Henry Wilding had called on Austin Buckingham, that
gentleman tried to return his call. It must be confessed that his motive
was not so much a commendable desire to get even socially with his new
acquaintance, nor to give him good advice, as it was to get a nearer
view of the heroine of his story. Candor compels me to say that every
evening for the week past Buckingham had taken an airing, and always in
the same direction. He had always found the shade drawn at No. 17, and
often he had caught a glimpse, as he sauntered past, of the figure which
he now knew so well. It is true that he had never again seen Miss Vila
in so dramatic a character as upon the first evening when he had
discovered her _en famille;_ but he had seen her, not as one sees a
portrait, which always looks in the same direction. In the horse-car she
had been such a portrait to him,--the "Portrait of a Lady Reading."
Behind the window of Mr. Martindale's house she had been a figure in a
_tableau vivant_, often animated, always disclosing some new grace of
attitude, some new charm of manner. He faintly told himself that these
views enabled him to form a more distinct impression of the character of
his heroine: whenever he should have his plot ready, his heroine would
in the various situations instantly appear to him with the vividness and
richness of reality.

He bethought himself that it was high time to see a little more of his
hero; and so he persuaded himself that in going to call upon him he was
engaged in a strictly professional occupation. If by any chance he
should hear the rustle of the heroine's dress, why, that could not
possibly injure any impressions which he might receive of his hero's
individuality. These two people had become important factors in his
story. He had not yet succeeded in sketching his plot. He felt it all
the more necessary that they should sketch it for him. He was sure that
he should readily catch at any hint which they might drop. He would
therefore go into the society of his hero--and heroine.

For, somehow or other, whenever he essayed to call up the image of his
hero and make it yield some distinct personali