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           "You’regoingtomakemestayupallnightandsleepinthetrainlikeanimmigrantalldayto-morrow,goingbacktoNewYork."

           "Hush!someone’scomingalongtheroad—let’sgo!Whoo-ee-oop!"Andwithashoutthatprobablygavethebelatedtravelleraseriesofshivers,sheturnedherhorseintothewoodsandAmoryfollowedslowly,ashehadfollowedheralldayforthreeweeks.

           Thesummerwasover,buthehadspentthedaysinwatchingEleanor,agraceful,facileManfred,buildherselfintellectualandimaginativepyramidswhilesherevelledintheartificialitiesofthetemperamentalteensandtheywrotepoetryatthedinner-table.

           WhenVanitykissedVanity,ahundredhappyJunesago,he

           ponderedo’erherbreathlessly,and,thatallmenmightever

           know,herhymedhereyeswithlifeanddeath:

           "ThruTimeI’llsavemylove!"hesaid...yetBeauty

           vanishedwithhisbreath,and,withherlovers,shewasdead...

           —Everhiswitandnothereyes,everhisartandnotherhair:

           "Who’dlearnatrickinrhyme,bewiseandpausebeforehis

           sonnetthere"...Soallmywords,howevertrue,mightsing

           youtoathousandthJune,andnooneeverknowthatyouwere

           Beautyforanafternoon.

           Sohewroteoneday,whenheponderedhowcoldlywethoughtofthe"DarkLadyoftheSonnets,"andhowlittlewerememberedherasthegreatmanwantedherremembered.ForwhatShakespearemusthavedesired,tohavebeenabletowritewithsuchdivinedespair,wasthattheladyshouldlive...andnowwehavenorealinterestinher....