very middle of the season. If they came only in midsummer, when everyone is away, one would be very glad to do what one could, if one were in the city. Of course, as far as the Thompsons themselves are concerned, I love them.

My coffee never tasted so deliciously, and Marie said I looked unusually well after my night's rest. To be sure, Marie says that every morning; but, never mind, it is always pleasant to hear the first thing one wakes up, and I only wish I didn't have a sneaking fear that the new Empire pink bedhangings help a good deal. Marie sprayed the room with my new perfume (a secret-no one else has it), laved my face in rose-water, and then I had a wee little nap by way of a starter for the day. After my bath I answered my mail; and then, Marie having manicured my nails, my toilet was made. I wore, to go out, my striking blue costume, with the hat and sunshade to match, which always necessitates the greatest care with the complexion. I use an entirely different powder with this dress, and one has to be most careful about one's cheeks. But Marie is invaluable, so far as the complexion is concerned, and I went out quite satisfied. First, to the hairdresser's to have my hair re-dyed, as I was going to the races in the afternoon, and the light there is very trying. Unless your hair has been dyed very lately it is quite useless to go. My hair was never done so well. I am trying it a very little darker, and I am almost sure I like it better. Then I went into some shops. I think it is always a good thing to have one's carriage seen waiting outside the smart shops often. I priced a great many things, and had several-which I of course have no idea whatever of buying-sent home on approval. To the dressmaker's, to try on my new dress. It was finished, but didn't suit me. I am having entire new sleeves and all the trimming changed. I persuaded them it was their fault. I had really thought I should like it that way until I saw it completed. Then to breakfast with the Countess of Rheims,—a charming déjeuner. All the women were very desirable to know and very chicly dressed, but not one looking so young for their age, I am sure, as I. In fact, several made that remark to me. I know they say just the opposite behind my back, but it is pleasant to hear nice things under any circumstances. I think it is all one should ask of people, that they should be nice to our faces.

I left déjeuner first, because that makes a good impression, as if you are crowded with engagements, and flatters your hostess, who is naturally pleased to catch a much-sought-after guest. I really drove home to rest a little before the races. I find taking off everything and indulging in complete relaxation, if only for ten minutes, is wonderfully refreshing, and saves lots of lines! While I was resting, my masseur came and gave me face massage. There is nothing like it for a wrinkle-destroyer, and the man is rather a nice person and amuses me. I got him two clients at the luncheon to-day. As the other women said, one is only too willing to pay extra to get a man who is good-looking.

The races were very exciting. It was a lovely day, our coach had a fine position, and our party was much stared at. I had the most conspicuous seat, and did my best to become it. It isn't for me to say to myself if I succeeded or not, but I owe it to my dressmaker to make the statement that no one else had on a better gown. I wish that statement was the only thing I owed him. I won forty louis; I don't know how. I am absolutely ignorant about horses. I only go because it seems to be the thing to do now. But I thought one of the jockeys looked rather fetching, and so I put my money on him, and he happened to win.

We all went for tea to Mrs. Alberti's, where one of the most expensive singers sang; but I didn't hear her, because if you go into the music-room you have to sit down in rows, and you don't see any of the people.

I was obliged to hurry away, as my appointment with Jacques to-day was for 6: 30, and I wanted to stop at an imitation jeweler's in the Rue de la Paix, where, I had heard, were some wonderful paste necklaces. They are quite extraordinary. I ordered one, and shall never tell a soul it's not real.

I was late home, but Jacques, the dear boy, was waiting, and seemed to me sweeter than ever this afternoon. I gave him the cuff-links I have had made for him, with his initials in rubies, and it was too delightful to see his pleasure. I took him out to dine. I think I will marry him. I know he is much younger than I, and all that, but he's so sweet, and, after all, I have enough money for two.

TWO.

MARY ASHLEY TOWNSEND.

O one he brought the rarest flowers
That gold could buy,

And gave them with the courteous smile That masked a sigh.

Upon the other he bestowed,

With scarce a look,

A few wild violets gathered by

A wayside brook.

When from the skies that golden day

Went out the sun,

Of all the flowers the first received

Remained not one.

Some lured her swains, some gaily graced
The fawn she petted,

Some decked her starlings' cage; all died,
Not once regretted.

The other, shyly, from the world

Turned her apart,

And hid her wayside violets

Upon her heart,

And he who gave to each that day

Such different share,

By one was scorned; the other breathed
His name in prayer.

Years afterward, a woman died—

A lonely creature,

Whose sorrows were not written out

On form or feature.

But they who shrouded her do say,

Dead in her breast,

Close, close unto her cold, dumb heart,
Were violets pressed.

P

THE CLEMENCY OF SALAH-UD-DEEN.

EDWIN ARNOLD.

RAISE him Al-Barr, whose goodness is so great;
Who is so loving and compassionate!

The record written of Salah-ud-Deen,
The sultan? How he met upon a day,
In his own city, on the public way,

Hast seen

A woman whom they led to die.

The veil

Was stripped from off her weeping face, and pale

Her shamed cheeks were and wild her dark, fixed eye,
And her lips drawn with terror at the cry

Of the harsh people, and the rugged stones

Borne in their hands to break her, flesh and bones;
For the law stood that sinners such as she
Perish by stoning and this, doom must be.
So went the wan adultress to her death;
High noon it was, and the hot Khamseen's breath
Blew from the desert sands, and parched the tongue.
The crows gasped, and the kine went up and down
With lolling tongues; the camels moaned; a crowd
Pressed with their pitchers, wrangling high and loud
About the tank; and one dog, by a well,

Nigh dead with thirst, lay where he yelped and fell,
Glaring upon the water out of reach,

And praying succor in a silent speech,

So piteous were its eyes; which when she saw,
This woman from her foot her shoe did draw,
Albeit death-sorrowful, and looping up

The long silk of her girdle, made a cup

Of the heel's hollow, and thus let it sink

Until it touched the cool black water's brink;

So filled th' embroidered shoe and gave a draught

To the spent beast, which whined and fawned and quaffed
Her kind gift to the dregs; next licked her hand,

With such glad looks that all might understand
He held his life from her; then, at her feet
He followed close, all down the cruel street,—
Her one friend in that city.

But the king,
Riding within his litter, marked this thing

And how the woman, on her way to die,

Had such compassion for the misery

Of that parched hound. "Take off her chain and place The veil once more above the sinner's face,

And lead her to her house in peace," he said.

66

The law is that the people stone thee dead

For that which thou hast wrought; but there is come,

Fawning around thy feet, a witness dumb