Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. ‘I have justice. The crash was tremendous. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. '—'Unconstitutional or not,' says Salisbury Court and Savoy, speaking together, 'it's true. He could lose himself for hours at a time. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. " "Infernally provoking!" echoed Langley. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. .
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