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Lawrence Newt was silent. After a few moments Arthur Merlin rose and shook his hand. "Good-by!" he said. "We shall meet to-night." Arthur Merlin returned to his studio and carefully locked the door. Then he opened a huge port-folio, which was full of sketches and they were all of the same subject, treated in a hundred ways they were all Hope Wayne.

I was fixin myself up to attend the great war meetin', when my daughter entered with a young man who was evijently from the city, and who wore long hair, and had a wild expression into his eye. In one hand he carried a port-folio, and his other paw claspt a bunch of small brushes. My daughter introduced him as MR. SWEIBIER, the distinguished landscape painter from Philadelphy.

There was a sombre regularity and repose, like that of a house in which a corpse lies, upon the morning of the funeral. Boniface Newt sat in his office haggard and gray. His face, like his daughter Fanny's, had grown sharp, and almost fierce. The blinds were closed, and the room was darkened. His port-folio lay before him upon the desk, open.

She bent and took the sketch which he drew from his port-folio. "It is Manfred in the Coliseum," said he. She glanced at it; but the smile faded entirely. Arthur stared at her in astonishment as the blood slowly ebbed from her cheeks, then streamed back again. The head of Manfred was the head of Abel Newt.

Newt?" asked Hope Wayne, in a tone which seemed to Abel to trickle along his nerves, so exquisite and prolonged was the pleasure it gave him to hear her call him by name. How did she know it? thought he. "Yes, I draw, and am very fond of it," he answered, as he untied his port-folio.

The place was about one third filled with a representative English audience, the males preponderating in number. They watched me intently as I mounted the steps of the rostrum and arranged my port-folio upon a musical tripod; then I seated myself for a moment, and tried to still the beating of my foolish heart. How strangely acute were my perceptions of everything before me!

I have seen a half-dozen correspondents busily engaged with their letters at the same moment, each of them resting his port-folio on his knee, or standing upright, with no support whatever. On one occasion a fellow-journalist assured me that the broad chest of a slumbering confrere made an excellent table, the undulations caused by the sleeper's breathing being the only objectionable feature.

"If not changed, not perfected by time, dear mother," said Edward, kissing his mother. His manner expressed a mixture of admiration and tenderness that went to her heart. "You have spoiled my picture, Ned," she said, "I cannot make another straight line. Come, Julia, take up the port-folio, and we will return to the inn."

Coleridge's forte is conversation, and he is conscious of this: Mr. Southey evidently considers writing as his strong-hold, and if gravelled in an argument, or at a loss for an explanation, refers to something he has written on the subject, or brings out his port-folio, doubled down in dog-ears, in confirmation of some fact. He is scholastic and professional in his ideas.

On the dismissal of Roland and the others, he had exchanged the foreign port-folio for that of war, and was practically the prime minister, being in fact the only one whom Louis admitted to any degree of confidence; but this arrangement lasted less than a single week. Louis had yielded to and adopted his advice on every point but one.