Hamburg；　you　know；　a　great　modern　commercial　centre。〃
  〃Yes！　　Go　on！〃
  〃Then　we　had　Leipsic；　the　academic。〃
  〃Yes！〃
  〃Then　Carlsbad；　the　supreme　type　of　a　German　health　resort；　then
  Nuremberg；　the　mediaeval；　then　Anspach；　the　extinct　princely　capital；
  then　Wurzburg；　the　ecclesiastical　rococo；　then　Weimar；　for　the　literature
  of　a　great　epoch；　then　imperial　Berlin；　then　Frankfort；　the　memory　of　the
  old　free　city；　then　Dusseldorf；　the　centre　of　the　most　poignant　personal
  interest　in　the　worldI　don't　see　how　we　could　have　done　better；　if　we'd
  planned　it　all；　and　not　acted　from　successive　impulses。〃
  〃It's　been　grand；　it's　been　perfect！　　As　German…Silver　Wedding　Journey
  it's　perfectit　seems　as　if　it　had　been　ordered！　But　I　will　never　let
  you　give　up　Holland！　　No；　we　will　go　this　afternoon；　and　when　I　get　to
  Schevleningen；　I'll　go　to　bed；　and　stay　there；　till　you've　completed　your
  after…cure。〃
  〃Do　you　think　that　will　be　wildly　gay　for　the　convalescent？〃
  She　suddenly　began　to　cry。　　〃Oh；　dearest；　what　shall　we　do？　　I　feel
  perfectly　broken　down。　　I'm　afraid　I'm　going　to　be　sickand　away　from
  home！　　How　could　you　ever　let　me　overdo；　so？〃　She　put　her　handkerchief　to
  her　eyes；　and　turned　her　face　into　the　sofa　pillow。
  This　was　rather　hard　upon　him；　whom　her　vivid　energy　and　inextinguishable
  interest　had　not　permitted　a　moment's　respite　from　pleasure　since　they
  left　Carlsbad。　　But　he　had　been　married；　too　long　not　to　understand　that
  her　blame　of　him　was　only　a　form　of　self…reproach　for　her　own　self…
  forgetfulness。　　She　had　not　remembered　that　she　was　no　longer　young　till
  she　had　come　to　what　he　saw　was　a　nervous　collapse。　　The　fact　had　its
  pathos　and　its　poetry　which　no　one　could　have　felt　more　keenly　than　he。
  If　it　also　had　its　inconvenience　and　its　danger　he　realized　these　too。
  〃Isabel；〃　he　said；　〃we　are　going　home。〃
  〃Very　well；　then　it　will　be　your　doing。〃
  〃Quite。　　Do　you　think　you　could　stand　it　as　far　as　Cologne？　　We　get　the
  sleeping…car　there；　and　you　can　lie　down　the　rest　of　the　way　to　Ostend。〃
  〃This　afternoon？　　Why　I'm　perfectly　strong；　it's　merely　my　nerves　that
  are　gone。〃　　She　sat　up；　and　wiped　her　eyes。　　〃But　Basil！　　If　you're　doing
  this　for　me〃
  〃I'm　doing　it　for　myself；〃　said　March；　as　he　went　out　of　the　room。
  She　stood　the　journey　perfectly　well；　and　in　the　passage　to　Dover　she
  suffered　so　little　from　the　rough　weather　that　she　was　an　example　to　many
  robust　matrons　who　filled　the　ladies'　cabin　with　the　noise　of　their
  anguish　during　the　night。　　She　would　have　insisted　upon　taking　the　first
  train　up　to　London；　if　March　had　not　represented　that　this　would　not
  expedite　the　sailing　of　the　Cupania；　and　that　she　might　as　well　stay　the
  forenoon　at　the　convenient　railway　hotel；　and　rest。　　It　was　not　quite　his
  ideal　of　repose　that　the　first　people　they　saw　in　the　coffee…room　when
  they　went　to　breakfast　should　be　Kenby　and　Rose　Adding；　who　were　having
  their　tea　and　toast　and　eggs　together　in　the　greatest　apparent　good…
  fellowship。　　He　saw　his　wife　shrink　back　involuntarily　from　the
  encounter；　but　this　was　only　to　gather　force　for　it；　and　the　next　moment
  she　was　upon　them　in　all　the　joy　of　the　surprise。　　Then　March　allowed
  himself　to　be　as　glad　as　the　others　both　seemed；　and　he　shook　hands　with
  Kenby　while　his　wife　kissed　Rose；　and　they　all　talked　at　once。　　In　the
  confusion　of　tongues　it　was　presently　intelligible　that　Mrs。　Kenby　was
  going　to　be　down　in　a　few　minutes；　and　Kenby　took　March　into　his
  confidence　with　a　smile　which　was；　almost　a　wink　in　explaining　that　he
  knew　how　it　was　with　the　ladies。　　He　said　that　Rose　and　he　usually　got
  down　to　breakfast　first；　and　when　he　had　listened　inattentively　to　Mrs。
  March's　apology　for　being　on　her　way　home；　he　told　her　that　she　was　lucky
  not　to　have　gone　to　Schevleningen；　where　she　and　March　would　have　frozen
  to　death。　　He　said　that　they　were　going　to　spend　September　at　a　little
  place　on　the　English　coast；　near　by；　where　he　had　been　the　day　before
  with　Rose　to　look　at　lodgings；　and　where　you　could　bathe　all　through　the
  month。　　He　was　not　surprised　that　the　Marches　were　going　home；　and　said；
  Well；　that　was　their　original　plan；　wasn't　it？
  Mrs。　Kenby；　appearing　upon　this；　pretended　to　know　better；　after　the
  outburst　of　joyful　greeting　with　the　Marches；　and　intelligently　reminded
  Kenby　that　he　knew　the　Marches　had　intended　to　pass　the　winter　in　Paris。
  She　was　looking　extremely　pretty；　but　she　wished　only　to　make　them　see
  how　well　Rose　was　looking；　and　she　put　her　arm　round　his　shoulders　as　she
  spoke；　Schevleningen　had　done　wonders　for　him；　but　it　was　fearfully　cold
  there；　and　now　they　were　expecting　everything　from　Westgate；　where　she
  advised　March　to　come；　too；　for　his　after…cure：　she　recollected　in　time
  to　say；　She　forgot　they　were　on　their　way　home。　　She　added　that　she　did
  not　know　when　she　should　return；　she　was　merely　a　passenger；　now；　she
  left　everything　to　the　men　of　the　family。　　She　had；　in　fact；　the　air　of
  having　thrown　off　every　responsibility；　but　in　supremacy；　not　submission。
  She　was　always　ordering　Kenby　about；　she　sent　him　for　her　handkerchief；
  and　her　rings　which　she　had　left　either　in　the　tray　of　her　trunk；　or　on
  the　pin…cushion；　or　on　the　wash…stand　or　somewhere；　and　forbade　him　to
  come　back　without　them。　　He　asked　for　her　keys；　and　then　with　a　joyful
  scream　she　owned　that　she　had　left　the　door…key　in　the　door　and　the　whole
  bunch　of　trunk…keys　in　her　trunk；　and　Kenby　treated　it　all　as　the
  greatest　joke；　Rose；　too；　seemed　to　think　that　Kenby　would　make
  everything　come　right；　and　he　had　lost　that　look　of　anxiety　which　he　used
  to　have；　at　the　most　he　showed　a　friendly　sympathy　for　Kenby；　for　whose
  sake　he　seemed　mortified　at　her。　　He　was　unable　to　regard　his　mother　as
  the　delightful　joke　which　she　appeared　to　Kenby；　but　that　was　merely
  temperamental；　and　he　was　never　distressed　except　when　she　behaved　with
  unreasonable　caprice　at　Kenby's　cost。
  As　for　Kenby　himself　he　betrayed　no　dissatisfaction　with　his　fate　to
  March。　　He　perhaps　no　longer　regarded　his　wife　as　that　strong　character
  which　he　had　sometimes　wearied　March　by　celebrating；　but　she　was　still
  the　most　brilliant　intelligence；　and　her　charm　seemed　only　to　have　grown
  with　his　perception　of　its　wilful　limitations。　　He　did　not　want　to　talk
  about　her　so　much；　he　wanted　rather　to　talk　about　Rose；　his　health；　his
  education；　his　nature；　and　what　was　best　to　do　for　him。　　The　two　were　on
  terms　of　a　confidence　and　affection　which　perpetually　amused　Mrs。　Kenby；
  but　which　left　the　sympathetic　witness　nothing　to　desire　in　their
  relation。
  They　all　came　to　the　train　when　the　Marches　started　up　to　London；　and
  stood　waving　to　them　as　they　pulled　out　of　the　station。　　〃Well；　I　can't
  see　but　that's　all　right；〃　he　said　as　he　sank　back　in　his　seat　with　a
  sigh　of　relief。　　〃I　never　supposed　we　should　get　out　of　their　marriage
  half　so　well；　and　I　don't　feel　that　you　quite　made　the　match　either；　my
  dear。〃
  She　was　forced　to　agree　with　him　that　the　Kenbys　seemed　happy　together；
  and　that　there　was　nothing　to　fear　for　Rose　in　their　happiness。　　He　would
  be　as　tenderly　cared　for　by　Kenby　as　he　could　have　been　by　his　mother；
  and　far　more　judiciously。　　She　owned　that　she　had　trembled　for　him　till
  she　had　seen　them　all　together；　and　now　she　should　never　tremble　again。
  〃Well？〃　March　prompted；　at　a　certain　inconclusiveness　in　her　tone　rather
  than　her　words。
  〃Well；　you　can　see　that　it；　isn't　ideal。〃
  〃Why　isn't　it　ideal？　　I　suppose　you　think　that　the　marriage　of　Burnamy
  and　Agatha　Triscoe　will　be　ideal；　with　their　ignorances　and　inexperiences
  and　illusions。〃
  〃Yes！　It's　the　illusions：　no　marriage　can　be　perfect　without　them；　and　at
  their　age　the　Kenbys　can't　have　them。〃
  〃Kenby　is　a　solid　mass　of　illusion。　　And　I　believe　that　people　can　go　and
  get　as　many　new　illusions　as　they　want；　whenever　they've　lost　their　old
  ones。〃
  〃Yes；　but　the　new　illusions　won't　wear　so　well；　and　in　marriage　you　want
  illusions　that　will　last。　　No；　you　needn't　talk　to　me。　　It's　all　very
  well；　but　it　isn't　ideal。〃
  March　laughed。　　〃Ideal！　　What　is　ideal？〃
  〃Going　home！〃　she　said　with　such　passion　that　he　had　not　the　heart　to
  point　out　that　they　were　merely　returning　to　their　old　duties；　cares　and
  pains；　with　the　worn…out　illusion　that　these　would　be　altogether
  different　when　they　took　them　up　again。
  LXXIII。
  In　fulfilment　of　another　ideal　Mrs。　March　took　straightway　to　her　berth
  when　she　got　on　board　the　Cupania；　and　to　her　husband's　admiration　she
  remained　there　till　the　day　before　they　reached　New　York。　　Her　theory　was
  that　the　complete　rest　would　do　more　than　anything　else　to　calm　her
  shaken　nerves；　and　she　did　not　admit　into　her　calculations　the　chances　of
  adverse　weather　which　March　would　not　suggest　as　probable　in　the　last
  week　in　September。　　The　event　justified　her　unconscious　faith。　　The
  ship's　run　was　of　unparalled　swiftness；　even　for　the　Cupania；　and　of
  unparalled　smoothness。　　For　days　the　sea　was　as　sleek　as　oil；　the　racks
  were　never　on　the　tables　once；　the　voyage　was　of　the　sort　which　those　who
  make　it　no　more　believe　in　at　the　time　than　those　whom　they　afterwards
  weary　in　boasting　of　it。
  The　ship　was　v