le semper femina," he adds, and his story illustrates
the truth of the poet's words. His points will be so much better
understood later on, when some of the problems connected with our
matrimonial laws have been solved, that it would be a pity to publish
them prematurely. Suffice it to show how Felix and Georges produced
the portrait of Picciola. "Felix put all his talent and Georges all
his good will into it, for, once completed, Picciola was to select
a husband from the two suitors. After much cogitation she decides
for Felix, whilst offering her friendship to Georges, who seems but
moderately satisfied with this arrangement; and then, when husband and
wife leave for distant countries, Georges, who cannot bear the thought
of being parted from his dear Picciola, enters the service of the
young couple and accompanies them on their honeymoon." This mythical
journey gives the author opportunities for the subtle psychological
analysis of a young lady's heart, strongly inclined to revolt against
some of the conventions laid down by Society for its regulation.

[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF PICCIOLA.]

We had fondly hoped we might escort and protect her on the thorny
path of life, as pertinently shown in the drawing,[3] where we are
all three going along, our arms and hands fraternally intertwined and
linked together in perfect symmetry, as if therewith to tie the knot
of friendship and make it fast for ever and a day.

[Footnote 3: See Frontispiece.]

[Illustration: "ON THEIR HONEYMOON."]

But it was not to be. A big wave intervened to separate us, and swept
away all traces of the road before us. Poor Carry! Yes, she had a
story. Sad. Bright. Then sad again. First she gave to Amor what was
Amor's, and then to Hymen what was Hymen's. She tasted of the apple
her friend the serpent had told her so much about. Then--"la femme
a une chute est rare comme le Niagara"--and there are more apples
than one in the Garden of Eden--she tried another; such a bad one
unfortunately. It was a wonder it didn't poison her, body and soul,
but it didn't. There was a moment when the Angel with the flaming
sword threatened to cast her adrift, and it would have fared badly
with her had not a helping hand come to save her. But sound as she
was at the core, and true, she rallied and rose again to new life and
unhoped-for happiness. It was a young doctor who came to the rescue;
a mere boy he seemed to look at; but a man he was in deed and word. He