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 of Darius that I emerged from this experience, it was, as well, with a multiplied need of them. But nearly a week elapsed before his absence was explained by the following letter from his mother:

That afternoon I set off to make a call upon Darius.

We were well into November, but something remained of the warm languor of Indian summer which was in alluring contrast to the wonted bleakness of the month. The leaves had clung to their places with a singular tenacity, and, perhaps for this very cause, were more vividly and variably coloured than I had