She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. “I daresay the gallery will be full, but there is always the chance, and I know you two are keen on Melba.
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