We do not remember to have seen any translated specimens of the productions of M. de l'Aubepine a fact the less to be wondered at, as his very name is unknown to many of his own countrymen as well as to the student of foreign literature.read the short story

I.
For hours she had lain in a kind of gentle torpor, not unlike that sweet
lassitude which masters one in the hush of a midsummer noon, when the
heat seems to have silenced the very birds and insects, and, lying sunk
in the tasselled meadow-grasses, one looks up through a level roofing
of maple-leaves at the vast shadowless, and unsuggestive blue. Now and
then, at ever-lengthening intervals, a flash of pain darted through her,read the short story

The love story of Heine and his Mathilde is another of those stories which fix a type of loving.  It is the love of a man of the most brilliant genius, the most relentless, mocking intellect, for a simple, pretty woman,read the short story

When William Marchmill had finished his inquiries for lodgings at a well-
known watering-place in Upper Wessex, he returned to the hotel to find
his wife.  She, with the children, had rambled along the shore, and
Marchmill followed in the direction indicated by the military-looking
hall-porterread the short story