"All the more reason why we should do our whole duty by her," rejoined Mr. Bergan, "in the way of prevention as well as cure. In such matters, parental commands generally come too late to forestall mischief; the most that they do is to prevent it from going any farther." "He who brings good news, knocks hard," he called out, by way of arresting the doctor's attention, and saving the door. "Or, as the Germans say, He who brings, is welcome; I suppose you have come to settle our little account." 鈥淚t would do you more harm than good, Mr. Levy. I should be inclined to go one better 鈥?if I went into the thing at all,鈥?he added, with so much point that I was thankful to think he was beginning to decide against it. 鈥淭hey鈥檝e given it up as a bad job at last,鈥?said he. 鈥淚鈥檝e just come from Lord鈥檚, and Teddy won鈥檛 be very long.鈥? 天天操色综合,色姑娘综合网久久,色久久综合桃花网 "And so," continued the doctor, suavely, "what I am about to ask you to do, is not really wrong, though it may seem so at first sight. It is only a quiet method of averting a great deal of trouble and scandal from a very worthy family. Should you recognize this handwriting, if you were to see it again?" I emptied my lungs and my glass too. Raffles took a sip himself. Hesitating, for a moment, between two half-open doors, Bergan finally chose to enter the main parlor, a room full of a dusky, old-time grandeur. A piano stood between the windows, over the keys of which he ran his fingers, but found that its music had been imprisoned so long as to have grown hoarse and melancholy. So, doubtless, had that of the harp, which showed skeleton-like through its torn baize cover, and was flanked by a pile of music-books, the leaves of which were yellow with age. Odd, unwieldy chairs, covered with faded silk damask and a rich coat of dust, kept solemn state in the dim corners; ottomans and footstools, elaborately embroidered by forgotten fingers with birds, flowers, and other once cheerful devices, stood under the windows, or were scattered around the floor. On the walls, in frames of tarnished magnificence, hung two or three pictures in worsted, the designs of which, like the hands that had wrought them, were now faded beyond recognition. Just in proportion as these things had once helped to brighten the room, they helped to make it more sombre now. Like the images of vanished joys, they were all the gloomier because once so glad. Looking upon them, Bergan was painfully impressed with the latent identity of gayety and grief. Only give them time enough, and they merge into the same dull neutral tint!