“Time has laid his hand
Upon my heart gently; not smiting it,
But as a harper lays his open palm
Upon his harp to deaden its vibrations.”
And so I am looking forward to-night to an old age more peaceful, less turbulent, than my youth has been. I reach forward gladly, too, for life holds much that is sweet to old age, which youth can in no wise comprehend. Possibly this is one reason why youth is so anxious to concentrate enjoyment. But I am tired of concentration. There is a wear and tear about it which precludes the possibility of pleasure. I want to take the rest of my life gently, and by redoubled tenderness repay it for rude handling in my youth—that youth which lies very far away from me to-night and is wrapped in a rainbow mist.
THE END
LOVE-LETTERS
OF A
WORLDLY WOMAN.
By Mrs. W. K. Clifford, Author of “Aunt Anne,” “Mrs. Keith’s Crime,” etc. 16mo, Cloth, Ornamental, Uncut Edges and Gilt Top, $1 25.
This volume contains three brilliant love-stories well worth reading.... The letters are original and audacious, and are full of a certain intellectual “abandon” which is sure to charm the cultivated reader.... We trust that Mrs. W. K. Clifford will give us more fiction in this delicately humorous, subtle, and analytic vein.—Literary World, Boston.
Mrs. Clifford’s literary style is excellent, and the love-letters always have their special interest.—N.Y. Times.