Heart and Science : a story of the present time

s in the day-time, and by gorgeous chandeliers at night, may be nevertheless one of the dreariest places of rest and shelter that can be found on the civilised earth. Su

al associations to recommend them - it may be that the mind loses its elasticity under the inevitable restraint on friendly communication, which expresses itself in lowered tones and instinct

t his house, two women sat in a corner of the public room, in o

which attracted the notice of every other woman in the room. One of them wore a black veil over her gray hair. Her hands were brown, and knotty at the joints; her eyes looked unnaturally bright for her age; innumerable wrinkles cro

how she looks at the girl with her. A good old creature, I say, if ever there was one yet." The lady eyed him, as

slip. At seventeen years of age, it was doubtfu

ttle colour of any sort to boast of. Her hair was of so light a brown that it just escaped being flaxen; but it had the negative merit of not being forced down to her eyebrows, and twisted into the hideous curly-wig which exhibits a liberal equality of ugliness on the heads of women in the present day. There was a delicacy of finish in her features - in the nose and the lips especially - a sensitive changefulness in the expression of her eyes (too dark in themselves to be quite in harmony with her light hair), and a subtle yet simple witchery in her rare smile, which atoned, in some degree at least, for want of

eluctantly. They had been talking of family affairs - and had spoken in Italian, so as to keep their domesti

tter," she said; "the illustrious Mrs. Gallile

igh. "We only arrived last night," she pleaded. "Dear o

roposal with undisguis

our new home. And you propose to stop a whole day at an hotel, instead of going home. Impossible! Write, my Carmina - write. See, here is the add

er, I was only a child when you came to us after my mother's death. It is hardly six months yet since I lost my father. I have

took her hand, under cover of a tablecloth; Carmina knew how to console her. "We will go and see si

istress was pleased with me. That gracious lady often gave me a glass of the fine strong purple wine. The Holy Virgin grant that Aunt Gallilee may be as kind a woman! Such a head of hair as the other one she cannot hope to have. It was a joy to dress it. Do you think I wouldn't stay here in England with you if I could? What is to become of my old man in Italy, with his cursed asthma, and nobody to nurse him? Oh, but those were dull years in London! T

le showed itself faintly. The terrible first interview with the unknown aunt still oppressed her. She took up a newspaper in despair. "Oh, my old dear!"

usic in London?" Carmi

this in their own language. She

ave led an ignorant stranger to wonder whether any such persons as Italian composers, French composers, and English composers had ever existed. The music offered to the English public was music of exclusively Ger

in the middle of the room, on which useful books were liberally displayed. She returned with a catalogue of the Royal Academy Exhibition (which someone had left on t

ly had made themselves generally known beyond the limits of England. She turned to the last page. The works of art on show numbered more than fifteen hundred. Teresa, looking

next discovery led her to the section inscribed "Museums." She scored an approving

Kensington; Patent Museum - all unknown to Teresa. "The saints preserve us! what headaches and footaches in all these, if they are as big as that other one!" She went on with the list - and astonished everybody in the room by sudden

On the same afternoon, when Ovid had set forth on foot for Lincoln's Inn Fields, Carmina and Teresa set forth on foot for Lincoln's

led out of it towards the North; Teresa's pride in

there only two?" she said. "Surely you told me there was a boy, besides the girls?" Carmina set her right. "My cousin Ovid is a great doctor," she continued with an air of importance. "Poor papa used to say that our family would have reason to be proud of him." "Does he live at home?" asked simple Teresa. "Oh, dear, no! He has a grand

rmina looked over her shoulder. "Is this

and then, the sympathies of their race lead these inveterate wanderers to attach themselves, for the time, to some human companion, whom their mysterious insight chooses from the crowd. Teresa, with the hard feeli

y fellow-creature. "I must buy that poor dog something to e

ked herself, he darted away in terror into the road. A cab was driven by rapidly at the same moment. The whe

usic-seller's shop. Teresa led her in, and asked for a chair and a glass of water. The proprietor, feeling the interest in Carmina which she seldom failed to i

she said to her companion. "After what has happene

ome acceptable alternative. "Music woul

er in despair. "Is there no music, sir, but German music to be heard in London?" she asked. The hospitable shopkeeper produced a concert programmed for that afternoon - the modest enterprise of an obscure piano-forte teacher, who could onl

into a cab. "We may run over some other poor creature," she said. "If it isn't a dog, it may be a child next time." Teresa and the music-seller suggested a more reasonable view as grav

a and Ovid had failed to reach it alike. And Carmina had stopped to look at t