“Hard—­now?” She took his hand and laid it to her cheek.

“By all the rules you ought to hate me,” he began.  “What have I done for you but hurt you, and at last bring you to——­”

But she shut her gloved-hand over his mouth.

“The world is all before us where to choose, now, isn’t it?” she answered.  “And this big house and all the life we have led in it was just an incident in our lives—­an incident that is closed.”

“We’re starting all over again, honey....  Well, there’s the carriage, I guess.”

They rose, gathering up their valises.

“Ho!” said Jadwin.  “No servants now, Laura, to carry our things down for us and open the door; and it’s a hack, old girl, instead of the victoria.”

“What if it is?” she cried.  “What do servants, money, and all amount to now?”

As Jadwin laid his hand upon the knob of the front door, he all at once put down his valise and put his arm about his wife.  She caught him about the neck, and looked deep into his eyes a long moment, and then, without speaking, they kissed each other.

* * * * *

GEORGES OHNET

The Ironmaster

Georges Ohnet, one of the most prolific and popular of French novelists and playwrights, was born in Paris on April 3, 1848.  His father was an architect, and, after a period devoted to the study of law, Georges Ohnet adopted a journalistic career.  He first came into prominence as the part-author of the drama “Regina Sarpi,” in 1875.  “The Ironmaster, or Love and Pride,” was originally conceived as a play, and as such was submitted in vain to the theatrical managers of Paris.  It was entitled “Marrying for Money” ("Les Mariages d’Argent”) and on its rejection he laid it aside and directed his attention to the novel, “Serge Panine.”  This was immediately successful, and was crowned with honour by the French Academy.  Its author adapted it as a play, and then, in 1883, did the opposite with “Les Manages d’Argent,” calling it “Le Maitre de Forges.”  As a novel, “The Ironmaster,” with its dramatic plot and strong, moving story, attracted universal attention, and has been translated into several European languages.

I.—­The Faithless Lover

The Chateau de Beaulieu, in the Louis XIII. style, is built of white stone with red brick dressings.  A broad terrace more than five hundred yards long, with a balustrade in red granite, and decked with parterres of flowers, becomes a delightful walk in autumn.  M. Derblay’s ironworks may have somewhat spoilt the beauty of the landscape, but Beaulieu remains a highly covetable estate.

Madame de Beaulieu sat in the drawing-room knitting woollen hoods for the children in the village, while her daughter Claire contemplated, without seeing it, the admirable horizon before her.  At last, turning her beautiful, sad face to her mother, she asked, “How long is it since we have had any letters from St. Petersburg?”