Anna Katherine Green - "The Leavenworth Case"

Louis Antoine Fauvelet de Bourrienne - "Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte, V9"

Charlotte M. Yonge - "Magnum Bonum"

J. Cuthbert Hadden - "Haydn"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: A Laodicean

T >> Thomas Hardy >> A Laodicean




'Too late!' said Somerset. 'To think I should be served this
trick a second time!'

After a moment's pause, however, he looked to see the time of
day. It was five minutes past five--just about the hour when
Paula would be driving from Markton Station to Stancy Castle
to rest and prepare herself for her evening triumph. There
was a train at six o'clock, timed to reach Markton between
eleven and twelve, which by great exertion he might save even
now, if it were worth while to undertake such a scramble for
the pleasure of dropping in to the ball at a late hour. A
moment's vision of Paula moving to swift tunes on the arm of a
person or persons unknown was enough to impart the impetus
required. He jumped up, flung his dress clothes into a
portmanteau, sent down to call a cab, and in a few minutes was
rattling off to the railway which had borne Paula away from
London just five hours earlier.

Once in the train, he began to consider where and how he could
most conveniently dress for the dance. The train would
certainly be half-an-hour late; half-an-hour would be spent in
getting to the town-hall, and that was the utmost delay
tolerable if he would secure the hand of Paula for one spin,
or be more than a mere dummy behind the earlier arrivals. He
looked for an empty compartment at the next stoppage, and
finding the one next his own unoccupied, he entered it and
changed his raiment for that in his portmanteau during the
ensuing run of twenty miles.

Thus prepared he awaited the Markton platform, which was
reached as the clock struck twelve. Somerset called a fly and
drove at once to the town-hall.

The borough natives had ascended to their upper floors, and
were putting out their candles one by one as he passed along
the streets; but the lively strains that proceeded from the
central edifice revealed distinctly enough what was going on
among the temporary visitors from the neighbouring manors.
The doors were opened for him, and entering the vestibule
lined with flags, flowers, evergreens, and escutcheons, he
stood looking into the furnace of gaiety beyond.

It was some time before he could gather his impressions of the
scene, so perplexing were the lights, the motions, the
toilets, the full-dress uniforms of officers and the harmonies
of sound. Yet light, sound, and movement were not so much the
essence of that giddy scene as an intense aim at obliviousness
in the beings composing it. For two or three hours at least
those whirling young people meant not to know that they were
mortal. The room was beating like a heart, and the pulse was
regulated by the trembling strings of the most popular
quadrille band in Wessex. But at last his eyes grew settled
enough to look critically around.

The room was crowded--too crowded. Every variety of fair one,
beauties primary, secondary, and tertiary, appeared among the
personages composing the throng. There were suns and moons;
also pale planets of little account. Broadly speaking, these
daughters of the county fell into two classes: one the pink-
faced unsophisticated girls from neighbouring rectories and
small country-houses, who knew not town except for an
occasional fortnight, and who spent their time from Easter to
Lammas Day much as they spent it during the remaining nine
months of the year: the other class were the children of the
wealthy landowners who migrated each season to the town-house;
these were pale and collected, showed less enjoyment in their
countenances, and wore in general an approximation to the
languid manners of the capital.

A quadrille was in progress, and Somerset scanned each set.
His mind had run so long upon the necklace, that his glance
involuntarily sought out that gleaming object rather than the
personality of its wearer. At the top of the room there he
beheld it; but it was on the neck of Charlotte De Stancy.

The whole lucid explanation broke across his understanding in
a second. His dear Paula had fetched the necklace that
Charlotte should not appear to disadvantage among the county
people by reason of her poverty. It was generously done--a
disinterested act of sisterly kindness; theirs was the
friendship of Hermia and Helena. Before he had got further
than to realize this, there wheeled round amongst the dancers
a lady whose tournure he recognized well. She was Paula; and
to the young man's vision a superlative something
distinguished her from all the rest. This was not dress or
ornament, for she had hardly a gem upon her, her attire being
a model of effective simplicity. Her partner was Captain De
Stancy.

The discovery of this latter fact slightly obscured his
appreciation of what he had discovered just before. It was
with rather a lowering brow that he asked himself whether
Paula's predilection d'artiste, as she called it, for the De
Stancy line might not lead to a predilection of a different
sort for its last representative which would be not at all
satisfactory.

The architect remained in the background till the dance drew
to a conclusion, and then he went forward. The circumstance
of having met him by accident once already that day seemed to
quench any surprise in Miss Power's bosom at seeing him now.
There was nothing in her parting from Captain De Stancy, when
he led her to a seat, calculated to make Somerset uneasy after
his long absence. Though, for that matter, this proved
nothing; for, like all wise maidens, Paula never ventured on
the game of the eyes with a lover in public; well knowing that
every moment of such indulgence overnight might mean an hour's
sneer at her expense by the indulged gentleman next day, when
weighing womankind by the aid of a cold morning light and a
bad headache.

While Somerset was explaining to Paula and her aunt the reason
of his sudden appearance, their attention was drawn to a seat
a short way off by a fluttering of ladies round the spot. In
a moment it was whispered that somebody had fallen ill, and in
another that the sufferer was Miss De Stancy. Paula, Mrs.
Goodman, and Somerset at once joined the group of friends who
were assisting her. Neither of them imagined for an instant
that the unexpected advent of Somerset on the scene had
anything to do with the poor girl's indisposition.

She was assisted out of the room, and her brother, who now
came up, prepared to take her home, Somerset exchanging a few
civil words with him, which the hurry of the moment prevented
them from continuing; though on taking his leave with
Charlotte, who was now better, De Stancy informed Somerset in
answer to a cursory inquiry, that he hoped to be back again at
the ball in half-an-hour.

When they were gone Somerset, feeling that now another dog
might have his day, sounded Paula on the delightful question
of a dance.

Paula replied in the negative.

'How is that?' asked Somerset with reproachful disappointment.

'I cannot dance again,' she said in a somewhat depressed tone;
'I must be released from every engagement to do so, on account
of Charlotte's illness. I should have gone home with her if I
had not been particularly requested to stay a little longer,
since it is as yet so early, and Charlotte's illness is not
very serious.'

If Charlotte's illness was not very serious, Somerset thought,
Paula might have stretched a point; but not wishing to hinder
her in showing respect to a friend so well liked by himself,
he did not ask it. De Stancy had promised to be back again in
half-an-hour, and Paula had heard the promise. But at the end
of twenty minutes, still seeming indifferent to what was going
on around her, she said she would stay no longer, and
reminding Somerset that they were soon to meet and talk over
the rebuilding, drove off with her aunt to Stancy Castle.

Somerset stood looking after the retreating carriage till it
was enveloped in shades that the lamps could not disperse.
The ball-room was now virtually empty for him, and feeling no
great anxiety to return thither he stood on the steps for some
minutes longer, looking into the calm mild night, and at the
dark houses behind whose blinds lay the burghers with their
eyes sealed up in sleep. He could not but think that it was
rather too bad of Paula to spoil his evening for a sentimental
devotion to Charlotte which could do the latter no appreciable
good; and he would have felt seriously hurt at her move if it
had not been equally severe upon Captain De Stancy, who was
doubtless hastening back, full of a belief that she would
still be found there.

The star of gas-jets over the entrance threw its light upon
the walls on the opposite side of the street, where there were
notice-boards of forthcoming events. In glancing over these
for the fifth time, his eye was attracted by the first words
of a placard in blue letters, of a size larger than the rest,
and moving onward a few steps he read:--


STANCY CASTLE.

By the kind permission of Miss Power,

A PLAY

Will shortly be performed at the above CASTLE,


IN AID OF THE FUNDS OF THE

COUNTY HOSPITAL,

By the Officers of the

ROYAL HORSE ARTILLERY,

MARKTON BARRACKS,

ASSISTED BY SEVERAL

LADIES OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD.

The cast and other particulars will be duly announced in
small
bills. Places will be reserved on application to Mr.
Clangham,
High Street, Markton, where a plan of the room may be seen.

N.B--The Castle is about twenty minutes' drive from Markton
Station,
to which there are numerous convenient trains from all parts
of the
county.



In a profound study Somerset turned and re-entered the ball-
room, where he remained gloomily standing here and there for
about five minutes, at the end of which he observed Captain De
Stancy, who had returned punctually to his word, crossing the
hall in his direction.

The gallant officer darted glances of lively search over every
group of dancers and sitters; and then with rather a blank
look in his face, he came on to Somerset. Replying to the
latter's inquiry for his sister that she had nearly recovered,
he said, 'I don't see my father's neighbours anywhere.'

'They have gone home,' replied Somerset, a trifle drily.
'They asked me to make their apologies to you for leading you
to expect they would remain. Miss Power was too anxious about
Miss De Stancy to care to stay longer.'

The eyes of De Stancy and the speaker met for an instant.
That curious guarded understanding, or inimical confederacy,
which arises at moments between two men in love with the same
woman, was present here; and in their mutual glances each said
as plainly as by words that her departure had ruined his
evening's hope.

They were now about as much in one mood as it was possible for
two such differing natures to be. Neither cared further for
elaborating giddy curves on that town-hall floor. They stood
talking languidly about this and that local topic, till De
Stancy turned aside for a short time to speak to a dapper
little lady who had beckoned to him. In a few minutes he came
back to Somerset.

'Mrs. Camperton, the wife of Major Camperton of my battery,
would very much like me to introduce you to her. She is an
old friend of your father's, and has wanted to know you for a
long time.'

De Stancy and Somerset crossed over to the lady, and in a few
minutes, thanks to her flow of spirits, she and Somerset were
chatting with remarkable freedom.

'It is a happy coincidence,' continued Mrs. Camperton, 'that I
should have met you here, immediately after receiving a letter
from your father: indeed it reached me only this morning. He
has been so kind! We are getting up some theatricals, as you
know, I suppose, to help the funds of the County Hospital,
which is in debt.'

'I have just seen the announcement--nothing more.'

'Yes, such an estimable purpose; and as we wished to do it
thoroughly well, I asked Mr. Somerset to design us the
costumes, and he has now sent me the sketches. It is quite a
secret at present, but we are going to play Shakespeare's
romantic drama, 'Love's Labour's Lost,' and we hope to get
Miss Power to take the leading part. You see, being such a
handsome girl, and so wealthy, and rather an undiscovered
novelty in the county as yet, she would draw a crowded room,
and greatly benefit the funds.'

'Miss Power going to play herself?--I am rather surprised,'
said Somerset. 'Whose idea is all this?'

'O, Captain De Stancy's--he's the originator entirely. You
see he is so interested in the neighbourhood, his family
having been connected with it for so many centuries, that
naturally a charitable object of this local nature appeals to
his feelings.'

'Naturally!' her listener laconically repeated. 'And have you
settled who is to play the junior gentleman's part, leading
lover, hero, or whatever he is called?'

'Not absolutely; though I think Captain De Stancy will not
refuse it; and he is a very good figure. At present it lies
between him and Mr. Mild, one of our young lieutenants. My
husband, of course, takes the heavy line; and I am to be the
second lady, though I am rather too old for the part really.
If we can only secure Miss Power for heroine the cast will be
excellent.'

'Excellent!' said Somerset, with a spectral smile.



VII.

When he awoke the next morning at the Lord-Quantock-Arms Hotel
Somerset felt quite morbid on recalling the intelligence he
had received from Mrs. Camperton. But as the day for serious
practical consultation about the castle works, to which Paula
had playfully alluded, was now close at hand, he determined to
banish sentimental reflections on the frailties that were
besieging her nature, by active preparation for his
professional undertaking. To be her high-priest in art, to
elaborate a structure whose cunning workmanship would be
meeting her eye every day till the end of her natural life,
and saying to her, 'He invented it,' with all the eloquence of
an inanimate thing long regarded--this was no mean
satisfaction, come what else would.

He returned to town the next day to set matters there in such
trim that no inconvenience should result from his prolonged
absence at the castle; for having no other commission he
determined (with an eye rather to heart-interests than to
increasing his professional practice) to make, as before, the
castle itself his office, studio, and chief abiding-place till
the works were fairly in progress.

On the tenth he reappeared at Markton. Passing through the
town, on the road to Stancy Castle, his eyes were again
arrested by the notice-board which had conveyed such startling
information to him on the night of the ball. The small bills
now appeared thereon; but when he anxiously looked them over
to learn how the parts were to be allotted, he found that
intelligence still withheld. Yet they told enough; the list
of lady-players was given, and Miss Power's name was one.

That a young lady who, six months ago, would scarcely join for
conscientious reasons in a simple dance on her own lawn,
should now be willing to exhibit herself on a public stage,
simulating love-passages with a stranger, argued a rate of
development which under any circumstances would have surprised
him, but which, with the particular addition, as leading
colleague, of Captain De Stancy, inflamed him almost to anger.
What clandestine arrangements had been going on in his absence
to produce such a full-blown intention it were futile to
guess. Paula's course was a race rather than a march, and
each successive heat was startling in its eclipse of that
which went before.

Somerset was, however, introspective enough to know that his
morals would have taken no such virtuous alarm had he been the
chief male player instead of Captain De Stancy.

He passed under the castle-arch and entered. There seemed a
little turn in the tide of affairs when it was announced to
him that Miss Power expected him, and was alone.

The well-known ante-chambers through which he walked, filled
with twilight, draughts, and thin echoes that seemed to
reverberate from two hundred years ago, did not delay his eye
as they had done when he had been ignorant that his destiny
lay beyond; and he followed on through all this ancientness to
where the modern Paula sat to receive him.

He forgot everything in the pleasure of being alone in a room
with her. She met his eye with that in her own which cheered
him. It was a light expressing that something was understood
between them. She said quietly in two or three words that she
had expected him in the forenoon.

Somerset explained that he had come only that morning from
London.

After a little more talk, in which she said that her aunt
would join them in a few minutes, and Miss De Stancy was still
indisposed at her father's house, she rang for tea and sat
down beside a little table.

'Shall we proceed to business at once?' she asked him.

'I suppose so.'

'First then, when will the working drawings be ready, which I
think you said must be made out before the work could begin?'

While Somerset informed her on this and other matters, Mrs.
Goodman entered and joined in the discussion, after which they
found it would be necessary to adjourn to the room where the
plans were hanging. On their walk thither Paula asked if he
stayed late at the ball.

'I left soon after you.'

'That was very early, seeing how late you arrived.'

'Yes. . . . I did not dance.'

'What did you do then?'

'I moped, and walked to the door; and saw an announcement.'

'I know--the play that is to be performed.'

'In which you are to be the Princess.'

'That's not settled,--I have not agreed yet. I shall not play
the Princess of France unless Mr. Mild plays the King of
Navarre.'

This sounded rather well. The Princess was the lady beloved
by the King; and Mr. Mild, the young lieutenant of artillery,
was a diffident, inexperienced, rather plain-looking fellow,
whose sole interest in theatricals lay in the consideration of
his costume and the sound of his own voice in the ears of the
audience. With such an unobjectionable person to enact the
part of lover, the prominent character of leading young lady
or heroine, which Paula was to personate, was really the most
satisfactory in the whole list for her. For although she was
to be wooed hard, there was just as much love-making among the
remaining personages; while, as Somerset had understood the
play, there could occur no flingings of her person upon her
lover's neck, or agonized downfalls upon the stage, in her
whole performance, as there were in the parts chosen by Mrs.
Camperton, the major's wife, and some of the other ladies.

'Why do you play at all!' he murmured.

'What a question! How could I refuse for such an excellent
purpose? They say that my taking a part will be worth a
hundred pounds to the charity. My father always supported the
hospital, which is quite undenominational; and he said I was
to do the same.'

'Do you think the peculiar means you have adopted for
supporting it entered into his view?' inquired Somerset,
regarding her with critical dryness. 'For my part I don't.'

'It is an interesting way,' she returned persuasively, though
apparently in a state of mental equipoise on the point raised
by his question. 'And I shall not play the Princess, as I
said, to any other than that quiet young man. Now I assure
you of this, so don't be angry and absurd! Besides, the King
doesn't marry me at the end of the play, as in Shakespeare's
other comedies. And if Miss De Stancy continues seriously
unwell I shall not play at all.'

The young man pressed her hand, but she gently slipped it
away.

'Are we not engaged, Paula!' he asked. She evasively shook
her head.

'Come--yes we are! Shall we tell your aunt?' he continued.
Unluckily at that moment Mrs. Goodman, who had followed them
to the studio at a slower pace, appeared round the doorway.

'No,--to the last,' replied Paula hastily. Then her aunt
entered, and the conversation was no longer personal.

Somerset took his departure in a serener mood though not
completely assured.



VIII.

His serenity continued during two or three following days,
when, continuing at the castle, he got pleasant glimpses of
Paula now and then. Her strong desire that his love for her
should be kept secret, perplexed him; but his affection was
generous, and he acquiesced in that desire.

Meanwhile news of the forthcoming dramatic performance
radiated in every direction. And in the next number of the
county paper it was announced, to Somerset's comparative
satisfaction, that the cast was definitely settled, Mr. Mild
having agreed to be the King and Miss Power the French
Princess. Captain De Stancy, with becoming modesty for one
who was the leading spirit, figured quite low down, in the
secondary character of Sir Nathaniel.

Somerset remembered that, by a happy chance, the costume he
had designed for Sir Nathaniel was not at all picturesque;
moreover Sir Nathaniel scarcely came near the Princess through
the whole play.

Every day after this there was coming and going to and from
the castle of railway vans laden with canvas columns,
pasteboard trees, limp house-fronts, woollen lawns, and lath
balustrades. There were also frequent arrivals of young
ladies from neighbouring country houses, and warriors from the
X and Y batteries of artillery, distinguishable by their
regulation shaving.

But it was upon Captain De Stancy and Mrs. Camperton that the
weight of preparation fell. Somerset, through being much
occupied in the drawing-office, was seldom present during the
consultations and rehearsals: until one day, tea being served
in the drawing-room at the usual hour, he dropped in with the
rest to receive a cup from Paula's table. The chatter was
tremendous, and Somerset was at once consulted about some
necessary carpentry which was to be specially made at Markton.
After that he was looked on as one of the band, which resulted
in a large addition to the number of his acquaintance in this
part of England.

But his own feeling was that of being an outsider still. This
vagary had been originated, the play chosen, the parts
allotted, all in his absence, and calling him in at the last
moment might, if flirtation were possible in Paula, be but a
sop to pacify him. What would he have given to impersonate
her lover in the piece! But neither Paula nor any one else
had asked him.

The eventful evening came. Somerset had been engaged during
the day with the different people by whom the works were to be
carried out and in the evening went to his rooms at the Lord-
Quantock-Arms, Markton, where he dined. He did not return to
the castle till the hour fixed for the performance, and having
been received by Mrs. Goodman, entered the large apartment,
now transfigured into a theatre, like any other spectator.

Rumours of the projected representation had spread far and
wide. Six times the number of tickets issued might have been
readily sold. Friends and acquaintances of the actors came
from curiosity to see how they would acquit themselves; while
other classes of people came because they were eager to see
well-known notabilities in unwonted situations. When ladies,
hitherto only beheld in frigid, impenetrable positions behind
their coachmen in Markton High Street, were about to reveal
their hidden traits, home attitudes, intimate smiles, nods,
and perhaps kisses, to the public eye, it was a throwing open
of fascinating social secrets not to be missed for money.

The performance opened with no further delay than was
occasioned by the customary refusal of the curtain at these
times to rise more than two feet six inches; but this hitch
was remedied, and the play began. It was with no enviable
emotion that Somerset, who was watching intently, saw, not Mr.
Mild, but Captain De Stancy, enter as the King of Navarre.

Somerset as a friend of the family had had a seat reserved for
him next to that of Mrs. Goodman, and turning to her he said
with some excitement, 'I understood that Mr. Mild had agreed
to take that part?'

'Yes,' she said in a whisper, 'so he had; but he broke down.
Luckily Captain De Stancy was familiar with the part, through
having coached the others so persistently, and he undertook it
off-hand. Being about the same figure as Lieutenant Mild the
same dress fits him, with a little alteration by the tailor.'

It did fit him indeed; and of the male costumes it was that on
which Somerset had bestowed most pains when designing them.
It shrewdly burst upon his mind that there might have been
collusion between Mild and De Stancy, the former agreeing to
take the captain's place and act as blind till the last
moment. A greater question was, could Paula have been aware
of this, and would she perform as the Princess of France now
De Stancy was to be her lover?

'Does Miss Power know of this change?' he inquired.

'She did not till quite a short time ago.'

He controlled his impatience till the beginning of the second
act. The Princess entered; it was Paula. But whether the
slight embarrassment with which she pronounced her opening
words,