Identifier: harpersnew72various (find matches)
Title: Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 34 December 1886 to May 1887
Year: 1887 (1880s)
Authors: various
Subjects:
Publisher: New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers
Contributing Library: Brigham Young University-Idaho, David O. McKay Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University-Idaho

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aven ! she weeps. This is the first mark of tender-ness I ever had from a modest woman, and it touches me. (To her.) Excuseme, my lovely girl; you are the only part of the family I leave w^ith reluc-tance. But, to be plain with you, the difference of our birth, fortune, and edu-cation makes an honorable connection impossible; and I can never harbor athought of seducing simplicity that trusted in my honor, of bringing ruinupon one whose only fault was being too lovely. Miss Hard. (Aside.) Generous man! I now be£yin to admire him. (Tohim.) But I am sure my family is as good as Miss Hardcastles; and thoughIm poor, thats no great misfortune to a contented mind; and, until this mo-ment, I never thought that it was bad to want fortune. Marl. And why now, my pretty simplicity ? Miss Hard. Because it puts me at a distance from one that, if I had a thou-sand pounds, I would give it all to. Marl. (Aside.) This simplicity bewitches me, so that if I stay, Im un- 526 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
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by heaven! she aveeps. done. I must make one bold effort, and leave lier. (To her.) Your partialityin my favor, my dear, touches me most sensibly; and were I to live for myselfalone, I could easily fix my choice. But I owe too much to the opinion of theworld, too nmcli to the authority of a father; so that—I can scarcely speak it—it affects me. Farewell. (Exit. Miss Hard. I never knew half his merit till now. lie shall not go, if 1have power or art to detain him. Ill still preserve the character in which Istooped to conquer^ but will undeceive my papa, who, perhaps, may laugh himout of his resolution. (Exit. EAST AIs^GELS. BY CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON. CHAPTER XXVI. MARGARET HAROLD was sitting ona bench at the East Angels landing.It was sunset. Little rose-colored clouds,dappled with pale lilac, stretched in flakywaves from the zenith far enough downthe sky for her to see them without rais-ing her eyes higher; between their lastsoft edges and the horizon extended abroad band of t

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