Year: 1876

He was good looking. Diana knew
it. Genteel. Diana knew that, too.
She was both genteel and good looking
herself. So when he came to see her,
and made himself agreeable, she did not
pretend that she hated him. Indeed,
as the time went on, she made up her
mind that voyage down hfe's river in
the same boat with Harry Hart would
not be an unpleasant trip, and resolved
to say eyes when he asked her to have
him. He was so nice, thought Diana,
one could do anything for him. One
could be proud of him, too, the fine,
tall, brown whiskered fellow who knew
so much. So her eyes glistened when
they saw him coming; her whole face
softened when he spoke to her; and her
heart-ah how soft that grewl Love
makes one SO tender, that it seems hard
it will not stay with us forever.


In this case the rosy god fingered
whole summer through. Mr.. Caleb
Bloom knew this well enough; he also
felt the influence of that "certain some
thing" in Diana, which made her the
sweetest of all women; but he was not
good looking, and had not any power
over the girls heart.


His pleasing task was to follow the
couple about unseen, and envy Harry
Hart from his very soul. AS for Harry,
he prudently refrained from saying any
thing to commit himself; made love in
such way as might be understood and
not repealed; and finally resolving that,
after all, Diana was not rich enough for
him, fitted away from Tulipgrove,
under pretense of a short visit to town,
and vanished from Diana's vision. To
say that she was not hurt would be to
tell fbs.


If she only could have had warning,
she might have told him that she hated
him, and had that reflection to comfort
her; but it was too late now.


Harry had, meanwhile, disported him
self in society, and felt that he had es-
capped the country girls .meshes just in
time. His conscience accused him of
having ill-used her, and he pictured her
pining for him, with her hair in disor-
der, and no bright bows in it. He rather
dreaded the morning papers lest he
should read of her demise-even, per-
haps, of her suicide; and he wished that
it was possible for him not to make
himself charming to every woman he
met.


eff I'd been such fellow as Caleb
Bloom, now" said Harry, looking into
the glass, "why might have gone jog
ging on without anything to reproach
myself with; but we don't make our
selves. L can't help being handsome,
any more than 1 can help the women
knowing it,"


So he put Diana's photograph away
in his desk, and tried to forget her. It
is hard, however, to forget some people.
Her face fitted before him too often for
his peace. The notes of her voice re-
turned to him like we'll remembered
music. Even when he courted Miss
Guineagold, the heiress, he compared
her with Diana, who would have moth
ing for her dowry. And when Miss
Guineagold refused him with scorn,
after smiling on him and encouraging
him for several long months, he thought
of the girl who had waited, as he knew,
to hear him say. :" / love you," and who
had never heard it.


He had not been in love with Miss
Guineagold, howeye er. SO he recovered
from the blow of her rejection easily,
and went courting in another direction.
This time Diana upconsciousIy avenged
herself. His second flame was widow
rolling in riches, and of q jealous turn
OF mind. She being an inmate of the
same hotel at Brighton, saw him from
the corridor, one day, vigorously kissing
a photograph, which he afterwards hid
in his desk. Being as unscrupulous as
Jealous woman always is, she bribed
the chambermaid to bring her the
picture. 1t was Diana's. The widow
boiling with rage, at once cut her adj
mirer dead.


It was Harry's hope to marry a ricl
woman; but he felt confident that h,