WYLDER'S HAJVD.
421
men and women always quite unlike the rest of the world
— unlike the human race; and somehow they interest me
unspeakably. I wish I knew more about those proud,
forlorn beauties, whose portraits are fading on the walls.
When I was a little thing, I used to look at them with a
feeling of melancholy and mystery. They were in my
eyes, reserved prophetesses, who could speak, if they would,
of my own future."
"A poor support, Dorcas — a broken reed. I wish we
could find another — the true one, in the present, and in
the coming time."
Dorcas smiled faintly, and I think there was a little
gleam of a ghastly satire in it. I am afraid that part of
her education which deals with futurity, had been neglect-
ed.
"I am more likely to turn into a Lady Macbeth than
a devote," said she, coldly, with the same painful smile.
"I found myself last night sitting up in my bed, talking
in the dark about it."
There was a silence for a time, and Rachel said —
"It is growing late, Dorcas."
"But you must not go, Rachel — you must stay and
keep me company — you must, indeed, Radie," said Dor-
cas.
"So I will," she answered; "but I must send a line
to old Tamar; and I promised Dolly to go down to her
to-night, if that darling little boy should be worse — I am
very unhappy about him."
"And is he in danger, the handsome little fellow,"
said Dorcas.
"Very great danger, I fear," said Rachel.
"But children recover wonderfully. What is his ail-
ment?"
"Gastric fever, the Doctor says. I had a foreboding