And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. Through that she had to go. . “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. “Is this Montague Street, W. ‘But you will not be in a convent. "If you'll write them, I'll illustrate them," observed Hogarth. " "For me!" vociferated Mrs.
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