by dismissing the most important. His figure was good, but slight; and with singular grace in all its movements. His finely cut features were capable of every variety of expression; they were, to use a French epithet, expressive as their epithets for all social qualities usually are, mobile in the extreme. They needed the passing animation of the moment; for, when in a state of repose, there was something wanting. The face did not interest; you noted in it a certain contraction of forehead, and an indecision about the mouth, which indicated, surely enough, Wharton's character. It was like a fairy tale, in which the good fairies assemble round the infant's cradle, and lavish upon it all the choicest gifts. Suddenly, some old and malicious magician appears, and destroys the effect of all these fine qualities by some one evil addition.
The curse to Philip Wharton was the same that Jacob pronounced over Reuben on his death-bed: "Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel." To-day he was
