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Chapter 07: Other Red Cell Blood Group Systems, Human Leukocyte Antigens, and
Platelet Antigens
Howard: Basic & Applied Concepts of Blood Banking and Transfusion Practices, 4th
Edition

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. Which of the following facts is not a characteristic of Kell system antibodies?

a. Usually clinically significant IgG antibodies
b. Best detected in indirect antiglobulin test phases
c. Lose reactivity with proteolytic enzyme reagents
d. Do not bind complement proteins
ANS: C
Proteolytic enzymes do not affect the Kell system antigens.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 151

2. Antibodies to Kidd, Kell, and Duffy blood group antigens share all the following
characteristics except:
a. can cause hemolytic disease of the newborn.
b. usually detected only by the indirect antiglobulin test.
c. enhanced with enzyme treatment.
d. can cause transfusion reactions.
ANS: C
The Duffy system antibodies do not react with enzyme-treated cells.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 157

3. K-positive donor red cells were mistakenly transfused to a recipient with anti-K. The patient’s
posttransfusion blood sample has a positive direct antiglobulin test with polyspecific
antihuman globulin. The direct antiglobulin test is positive because anti-K is an __________
antibody that has sensitized the __________ cells in vivo.
a. IgG, donor’s
b. IgM, donor’s
c. IgG, recipient’s
d. IgM, recipient’s
ANS: A
The anti-K in the recipient attached to the K antigen on the transfused donor red cells, which
will cause them to be prematurely cleared by the spleen.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 151

4. Which of the following phenotypes is heterozygous?

a. Fy(a–b+)
b. Jk(a+b–)
c. Fy(a+b+)
d. Le(a+b–)
 ANS: C
If both alleles Fya and Fyb are present on the red cell, the genetic expression is heterozygous.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 154

5. Antibodies to which of the following blood group system show dosage (i.e., are stronger with
homozygous expression of the antigen)?
a. Lutheran
b. P
c. Duffy
d. Kell
ANS: C
Stronger reactions are typically seen with red cells that have a “double dose” of the antigen in
the Duffy system.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 155

6. Why are antibodies to Lub antigen not commonly detected?

a. Lub antigen is of high incidence.
b. The antibodies do not cause transfusion reactions.
c. Lub antigen is not present on screening cells.
d. The antibodies react best at 4 C.

ANS: A
Lub antigen occurs at an incidence of greater than 99%.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 158

7. Why have Lewis system antibodies not been implicated in hemolytic disease of the fetus and
newborn?
a. The antigens are not fully developed at birth.
b. Lewis system antibodies do not cross the placenta.
c. The antibodies are not clinically significant.
d. All of the above are correct.
ANS: D
Lewis antibodies are often found during pregnancy but do not cross the placenta because they
are IgM. The antigens are not well developed at birth.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 160

8. All the following statements are true regarding Lewis system antibodies except antibodies:
a. may be observed at the immediate-spin, 37 C, and antihuman globulin phases.
b. can be neutralized by Lewis substance.
c. may cause hemolysis in vitro.
d. do not react following enzyme treatment of cells.
ANS: D
Anti-Leb may be enhanced with enzyme treatment.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 160

 9. What phenotype will be expressed when the Le, Se, and H genes are inherited?
a. Le(a+b+)
b. Le(a–b+)
c. Le(a–b–)
d. Le(a+b–)
ANS: B
Inheriting H, Se, and Le genes will allow the Lewis transferase to convert H to Leb antigen
and to be absorbed onto the red cells.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 161

10. Predict the probable antibody’s identity if all red cells tested at room temperature are positive
with a patient’s serum except for cord cells.
a. Anti-Lu
b. Anti-Lea
c. Anti-I
d. Anti-M
ANS: C
The I antigen is found on adult red cells, not on cord red cells. Anti-I reacts best at colder
temperatures.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 162

11. Which condition is often associated with the presence of anti-I?

a. Infectious mononucleosis
b. Mycoplasma pneumoniae infection
c. Pregnancy
d. Colon cancer
ANS: B
High-titer auto anti-I is often found in patients with Mycoplasma pneumoniae infections.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 162

12. Which of the following blood group systems are structurally related to antigens of the P
system?
a. MNS
b. ABH
c. Kell
d. Duffy
ANS: B
The P system antigens are formed by the action of glycosyltransferases, similar to the ABO
system genes and antigen products.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 164

13. What characterizes the Donath-Landsteiner antibody?

a. An IgG auto anti-P.
 b. An IgM auto anti-I.
c. Anti-IH that reacts at cold temperatures.
d. An IgG anti-Pk.
ANS: A
The Donath-Landsteiner antibody is a biphasic hemolysin that binds at colder temperatures in
the body (extremities) and activates complement to cause hemolysis at warmer temperatures.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 165

14. Red cells that phenotype as S–s– are also:

a. M-negative.
b. N-negative.
c. Tja-negative.
d. U-negative.
ANS: D
When S and s are absent from the membrane, the high-frequency antigen U is also absent.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 168

15. Select the statement that is FALSE regarding anti-P1.

a. Anti-P1 will not react with enzyme-treated P1 positive red cells.
b. P2 individuals can make anti-P1.
c. Anti-P1 is clinically not significant.
d. Anti-P1 reacts best at room temperature.
ANS: A
Anti-P1 is an IgM alloantibody that is made by P2 individuals and reacts best at colder
temperatures.

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 165

16. Anti-Jsb was identified in a patient scheduled for elective surgery later. What is the best
approach to finding compatible blood?
a. Contact the rare donor registry since Js(b-) units are rare.
b. Request that family members be tested to determine if they share the same
phenotype.
c. Screen donors from the black population because Js(b-) phenotype is common.
d. A and B are correct.
ANS: D
Js(b-) individuals are less than 1% of the black population and even rarer in the white donor
population. The rare donor registry is the most likely source of units; however, they would
probably be stored as frozen red cells. Since the units are not required urgently, family
members should be typed to locate potentially compatible blood.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 151

17. A patient’s antibody history listed an anti-Cellano. This antigen is also known as:
a. c in the Rh system.
b. k in the Kell system.
 c. Cs in the Cost system.
d. SC in the Scianna system.
ANS: B
Cellano is the original name of the k antigen (KEL2) in the Kell system, a high-frequency
antigen that is antithetical to K (KEL1).

DIF: Level 1 REF: p. 149

18. The major histocompatibility complex is located on chromosome 6 and is important in all the
following immune functions except:
a. recognition of nonself.
b. graft rejection.
c. hemolysis.
d. coordination of cellular and humoral immunity.
ANS: C
The major histocompatibility complex codes for molecules on all nucleated tissues and cells
to allow for immune recognition and response to foreign antigens.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 172

19. The mixed lymphocyte culture (MLC) is a procedure that has been used in HLA testing to
determine:
a. class I HLA antigen determination.
b. class II HLA antigen determination.
c. HLA antibody identification.
d. compatibility testing for tissue typing.
e. B and D.
ANS: E
The mixed lymphocyte culture (MLC) was an in vitro procedure used to determine tissue
compatibility and D (class II) typing that has been largely replaced by molecular typing and
flow cytometry techniques.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 175

20. HLA matching between the donor and recipient is important for progenitor cell
transplantation to avoid:
a. graft versus host disease (GVHD).
b. graft rejection.
c. transfusion reactions.
d. A and B.
ANS: D
HLA typing is essential to avoid GVHD and rejection in HPC transplants.

DIF: Level 2 REF: p. 174

MATCHING
 Match each characteristic with the appropriate blood group system. A selection may be used
more than once.
a. Cartwright
b. MNSs
c. Kidd
d. Vel
e. Xga
f. Sda antigen
g. Chido/Rodgers
h. Kell
i. Duffy

1. Antigen has a higher frequency in females

2. Antigen of high incidence; its antibody can cause hemolytic transfusion reactions
3. Antibodies are sensitive to enzymes and have high-titer low-avidity characteristics
4. System associated with McLeod phenotype
5. Antigens Yta and Ytb are in this system
6. System associated with glycophorin A and B
7. Antibodies in this system often fall below detectable levels and are associated with delayed
transfusion reactions
8. Antibody to this antigen demonstrates weak mixed field reaction
9. System associated with chronic granulomatous disease
10. System associated with resistance to malaria

1. ANS: E DIF: Level 1

2. ANS: D DIF: Level 1
3. ANS: G DIF: Level 1
4. ANS: H DIF: Level 1
5. ANS: A DIF: Level 1
6. ANS: B DIF: Level 1
7. ANS: C DIF: Level 1
8. ANS: F DIF: Level 1
9. ANS: H DIF: Level 1
10. ANS: I DIF: Level 1
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
Fetch me that broomstick, soldier. Golly me!
I must ride something or I die.

ROOT (on hands and knees):

Ride me.

ACT II
The White House
 LOEB:
O Mr. President, depress your ear
Till it enfold me, so that you may hear
Strange news of one departed—one that you
Have done to death: old Nelson Miles.

ROOSEVELT:
Go to!
There is no news of him; he’s dead as nails.

LOEB:
About him, though, they tell alarming tales.
’Tis said that he has moved an inch or so.

ROOSEVELT:
Go put a heavier stone upon him—go!
Confound the fellow! will he ne’er stay dead?

LOEB:
The worst is yet to come: they say his head
Is half-protruded from the tomb!

ROOSEVELT:
Quick, quick!
Go rap it roundly with the big, big stick.

LOEB:
Nay, that’s a weapon I’m too weak to wield.
(aside)
For anything I know, the corpse is “heeled.”

ROOSEVELT:
Where’s Colonel Hull? Command him to attack.
He’s brave and generous enough to crack
The skull of any dead man living. Take the stick.
[Exit Loeb.]
That rogue’s obedient, but he makes me sick.
 [An hour elapses. Enter Hull.]

HULL:
The work is done: again he is no more—
He was half out. These red stains are his gore.

ROOSEVELT:
I trust you gave him a conclusive whack.

HULL:
Well, not exactly, but—I bit his back!
 A STRAINED RELATION
The President. Root, Secretary of State. Taft, Secretary of War.
Bonaparte, Secretary of the Navy. Metcalf, Secretary of Commerce
and Labor. Dewey, an Admiral. Loeb, Private Secretary to the
President.

ACT I
The White House, October, 1906.
Root—Mr. President, the Japanese Minister complains that the
children of his countrymen in California are denied admittance to the
public schools.
President—That will be bad for their education.
Root—He regards this as an unfriendly discrimination.
Pres.—I should suppose that would be a painful conviction.
Root—He says his countrymen in Japan are greatly excited about
it.
Pres.—What a jabbering they must make.
Root—He is making a good deal of noise himself.
Pres.—Dare say. Let’s ask Metcalf about it; he’s from California.
[Taps the bell nine times—enter Secretary Metcalf.] Mr. Secretary,
how about the exclusion of Japs from the Californian public schools,
poor little things!
Metcalf—There are separate schools for them. The average age of
the poor little things is about thirty years.
Pres.—How affecting! Many of them must be orphans. I was once
an orphan.
 Root (aside)—His levity fatigues. (To the President) Among the
Japanese there are no orphans: those of them that have lost their
parents have an official father in the Minister of War.
Pres.—What’s that?
Root—Their actual guardian is the ranking admiral of the navy.
Pres.—The devil!
Root—No; Togo.
Pres.—This is a mighty serious matter, as I said. Go at once to the
Japanese Minister and disavow everything. [Exit Secretary Root,
smiling aside.] Metcalf, tell Loeb to prepare apologies for Japan, for
publication in the newspapers. Take the first train to California, and
——
[Exit Secretary Metcalf. Enter Secretary Bonaparte, breathless.]
Bonaparte—Mr. President, the J-J—the Mapanese Jinister is in the
offing with all his s-suite! He is sailing up the gravel walk this very
m-minute! For heaven’s sake, go to the window and show your
teeth.
[Exit Secretary Bonaparte, running. Tumult within: “Banzai!
Banzai!”]
Pres. (solus)—What under the sun can I say to appease the
pirates? This is what comes of the Peace of Portsmouth! It is this to
be a world power with a contumacious province.
[Has had a bad half-hour.]

ACT II
The Same, August, 1907.
Pres.—Mr. Secretary, it is reported that the Japanese in Hawaii are
rising.
Met.—You don’t say so! Why, it is hardly six o’clock by their time.
They are early risers.
 Pres.—I learn from Secretary Root that Admiral Togo’s battleships
are coaling. Now, what can that mean?
Met.—Let us ask Dewey. [Enter, thoughtfully, Admiral Dewey.]
Admiral, the President has learned that the Japanese battleships at
Tokio are taking on coal. What, in your judgment as a sailor, are they
going to do with it?
Dewey—Burn it.
[Enter Secretary Root.]
Root—Mr. President, California is about to secede—we shall lose
Metcalf! The entire Pacific Coast will follow. I go to glory or the
grave!
[Exit Secretary Root. Enter Secretary Taft, with bottle.]
Taft—In this supreme crisis of the nation let us fortify our souls
(filling glasses) for any trial.
Pres. (lifting glass)—Here’s confusion to the memory of the late
Commodore Matthew Perry!
[They drink. Tumult within: “Banzai! Banzai!” Enter Loeb.]
Loeb—Mr. President——
Pres.—Where’s Root?
Loeb—In the East Room, playing draw poker with the Japanese
Minister. [Renewed tumult within: “Banzai Nippon!”] The Jap seems
to be winning.
 A WIRELESS ANTEPENULTIMATUM
The President. Hay, Secretary of State. Bowen, Minister to
Venezuela.
 PRESIDENT:
John Hay, where are you on the great, gray sea?
I beg you will at once return to me.
This wireless business is the devil’s own,
And Castro’s playing him with me alone!
Venezuela sneering at my threat;
Santo Domingo more and more in debt;
Their foreign creditors dispatching fleets
With duns and guns and sons of guns—it beats
The Dutch, the devil and the band! I swear
From sheer distraction I could pull your hair!
’Twixt Castro and the Doctrine of Monroe,
My fears are nimble and my wits are slow.
I know not where to go nor how to stop—
Stand fast or, like old Saul of Tarsus, “flop.”
Nothing I know, and everything I doubt—
Dear John, in God’s name put your prow about!

HAY:
Though the skies fall upon the hills beneath
Be resolute. If needful show your teeth.

PRESIDENT:
Dear Bowen, go to Castro. Tell him straight
He must make up his mind to arbitrate.
Say if he won’t—here swing the big, big stick—
We’ll do a little stunt to make him sick.

BOWEN:
Your words I’ve put into his ear. Said he:
“I’m sick already—to the mountains, me.”

PRESIDENT:
Tell him again; then if he won’t, why, add
We’ll give him ninety days to wish he had.

BOWEN
 BOWEN:
I’ve told him that, sir, and he says if you
Are pressed for time a single day will do,
For he’s a rapid wisher. What shall I
Say further, to provoke a coarse reply?

PRESIDENT:
Tell him that when the time allowed is up
We’ll press against his lips the bitter cup.
We’ll waste no further words in this. Don’t fail
To send the scalawag’s reply—by mail.
 A PRESIDENTIAL PROGRESS
First American Sovereign—Hurrah! Hooray! Hurroo!
Second American Sovereign—What’s the matter with you?
F. A. S.—What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with all of
us? Don’t you see the President’s train? Don’t you hear him speaking
from the rear platform?
S. A. S.—What’s to prevent?
F. A. S.—Nothing could prevent—not all the crowned heads of
Europe, nor all their sycophant courtiers and servile subjects!
S. A. S.—No, nothing—just nothing at all—excepting personal self-
respect and a decent sense of the dignity of American citizenship.
F. A. S.—What! You think it base and undignified to pay honor to
the President’s great office?
S. A. S.—It is easy to call it “honoring his great office.” I believe
we commonly do give the name of some virtue to our besetting vice.
I observe that the President, too, honors our own great office by the
most sickening flattery of the people every time he opens his mouth.
His reasons are better than ours, for we really rank him: his great
office is of our own making and bestowal. But I wish he wouldn’t lick
my boots.
F. A. S.—Sir, you have no right to use such language of the ruler of
the nation!
S. A. S.—It is “ruler” when you want an excuse to grovel; in your
more austere moods it is “servant of the people”—and that is his
own name for the thing that he has the distinction to be. I don’t
cheer my butler, nor throw flowers at my coachman, nor crush the
hand of my cook.
 F. A. S. (aside)—This must be a millionaire! (Aloud) I see great
wisdom, sir, in what you say. I’ll never again abase myself before
any one. Listen to the senseless applause! (Aside, as loud as he can
bawl) Hooray! Hooray!
S. A. S.—Ah, that was the fellow’s expiring platitude. He has
finished waving the red flag and is coming this way.
[President passes, shaking hands with both.]
F. A. S. (gazing at his hand with deep emotion)—God bless him!
S. A. S.—Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!
MISCELLANEOUS
 THE SAMPLE COUNTER

OUR HISTORICAL NOVELS

From “The First Man in Rome.”
NO sooner had Cæsar crossed the Rubicon than all Rome was ablaze
with excitement and terror. Horatius, who all by himself had held the
bridge until outnumbered, retreated to the Tiber, where he was
joined by the new levies, imperfectly armed and equipped, and some
of the Prætorian Guards. There, behind such defenses as they could
improvise, they swore to resist until all were dead. Sacrifices were
offered to the gods, and the augurs, removing the hearts of the
victims, consulted the auricles.
Meantime Cæsar’s leading legion, with Scipio Africanus marching
proudly at its head, came into view beyond the Tarpeian Rock—the
same from which the unhappy Sappho, one of the most prominent
poets of her time, had cast herself—and advanced without delay in a
shower of catapults.
Precisely what occurred during the next half-hour we are without
the data to state with confidence: all the historical novels of the
three or four centuries immediately following were destroyed in the
accident at Pompeii; but at three o’clock in the afternoon of that
fateful day Brutus lay dead upon the field of honor and the beaten
forces of Horatius were in tumultuous retreat along the Claudian
aqueduct. Then Cleopatra came forth from her place of
concealment, resolved to throw herself at the feet of her conquering
lover and intercede for the doomed city.

From “Court and Camp.”

Through a tangled wild as dense as death the martial forced his
way, despite the wounds that the Russian forces had inflicted upon
his aged frame. Suddenly he departed from the undergrowth and
found himself in an open glade of inconsiderable dimensions, and
before his vision stood the widely known figure of Napoleon, with
folded arms and in a greatcoat falling to his heels. The king was
apparently oblivious to his environment, but instinctively “the bravest
of the brave,” ever considerate and genteel, drew back into cover,
unwilling to interrupt the royal revery. Apparently Napoleon was
immersed in meditations.
What these were we have not the temerity to conjecture.
Waterloo had been fought and lost!—the last die had been cast to
the winds and the dream of universal empire had gone down in
gloom! Did he realize that all was over? Was he conjuring up the
future and forecasting the judgment of posterity—the figure that he
was destined to cut in the historical novels of a later age? Did visions
of St. Helena float before his prophetic gaze? Alas, we know not!
At the sound of a breaking twig beneath the martial’s foot the king
started from his revery and said in French: “Live the France!” Then,
deriving a slender stiletto from his regalia, he plunged it into the left
ventricle of his heart and fell dead before the martial, who was
greatly embarrassed, could summon medical assistance.
Josephine was avenged!

From “The Crusader.”

It was midnight beneath the walls of the beleaguered city. Sir Guy
de Chassac de Carcassonne leaned heavily upon his great two-
handed sword, fatigued with slaughter. Hardly had he closed his
eyes in slumber when the seven Saracens chosen by Saladin for the
perilous emprise stole forth from the postern gate and stealthily
surrounded him. Then at a preconcerted signal they flashed their
scimitars in air and rushed upon their prey!
But it was fated to be otherwise. At the first stroke of the Toledo
blades Sir Guy awoke. To pluck his long weapon from the soil was
the work of a comparatively short time; then with one mighty
circular sweep of the steel he clove them all asunder at the waist!
Jerusalem was delivered and remains a Christian city to this day!
From “Blood and Beer.”
The booming of the cannon awakened Bismarck with a start.
Vaulting into the saddle with remarkable grace, he was soon in the
thickest of the fray, and many a foeman fell beneath his genius. Yet
even in the terrible din and confusion of battle his mental processes
were normal, and he thought only of the countess, while absently
dealing death about him. Suddenly he was roused from his revery by
the impact of a battle-axe upon his helmet, and turning his eyes in
the direction whence it seemed to have been delivered, he beheld
the sneering visage of De Grammont on a black steed.
Here was an opportunity that might satisfy the most exacting—an
opportunity to rid his country of a traitor and himself of a rival; to
serve at once his ambition and his love. His noble nature forbade.
Waving his enemy aside, he thoughtfully withdrew from the field,
resolved to press his suit otherwise.

From “The Iron Duchess.”

As Wellington rode moodily away from the fatal field of Blenheim,
meditating upon the wreck of his ambition, he encountered the seer
whom he had met the day before.
“Wretch!” he exclaimed, drawing his scimitar, “it is you that have
done this! But for your accursed predictions I should have won the
battle and the Swiss king would now be flying before my victorious
legends. Die, therefore!”
So saying, he raised his armed hand to smite, but the blow did not
fall. Even while the blade was suspended in the air the seer’s long
black cloak fell away, the white hair and concealing beard were flung
aside, and the Iron Duke found himself gazing into the laughing eyes
of Madame de Maintenon! Speechless with astonishment, he
thundered: “What is the meaning of this?”
“Ah, monsieur,” she replied, with that enchanting smile which had
lured Louis XIV to the guillotine, “it means that I amuse myself.”

From “The Noddle of Navarre.”

 When Henry of Navarre saw the ruin he had wrought he elevated
his helmet from his marble brow and stepped three paces to the
rear. The priest advanced with flashing eyes and, lifting both hands
to the zenith, explained that vengeance was the Lord’s—He would
repay!
“It is better so,” assented the king—“I prefer it thus.”
But even as he spake a shot from the moat pierced his brain and
he fell, to reign no more!

From “Louis the Luckless.”

Observing that his presence was not suspected, Richelieu
remained with his eye glued to the keyhole. It was well that he did
so, for the conspirators now laid off their masks, and among them
he recognized the king himself! Here was a situation that he
believed unique; in all his experience in court and camp there was
no precedent A sovereign conspiring for his own overthrow, his
assassination! Richelieu was deeply affected by so striking an
instance of unselfishness. He reeled and fell to the floor in an agony
of admiration.

From “The Road to Tusculum.”

No sooner did Cicero perceive his legions retreating than he
spurred impetuously from the field, thundering that all was lost.
Passing swiftly across the Tiber by a secret bridge, he proceeded to
the Forum, and entering the senate unannounced, communicated
the news of the disaster. This was Pompey’s opportunity; he rose in
his place and extending his index finger in the direction of the
defeated warrior exclaimed in sarcastic accents: “Romans, behold
your liberator from the chains of the Volscians! Behold the orator-
general to whom you owe so much! Let him hereafter (if we have a
hereafter) oppose to his country’s armed invaders the power of his
matchless tongue. The sword is too heavy for a hand trained in the
light calisthenics of gesticulation!” Maddened by this artful
arraignment, the senators rose as one Roman and, headed by
Marcus Aurelius, fell upon the unfortunate commander, tearing him
limb from limb!

From “The Loves of Cromwell.”

Night fell darkly over the city of Worcester.
Cromwell had marched all day to reach it by seven roads, and at
nine in the evening besieged it with a hundred thousand men.
A desperate struggle ensued, at the close of which Cromwell rose
from his knees victorious over the forces of his king.
“Bring that son of Belial before me!” he roared, “that I may deal
with him according to his sins.”
Charles, pale and trembling, with manacled hands and bowed
head, was led in.
The lord protector eyed him haughtily, then addressing a brief
prayer to Heaven sprang forward and with one stroke of his blade
severed the royal head from the royal shoulders.
Thus ended the War of the Roses, and England was again a
republic.

OUR TALES OF SENTIMENT

From “One Woman.”
GLADYS climbed to the balustrade of the bridge and, adjusting her
skirts, plunged into the gloomiest forebodings.
“Why,” she said, “should the future look so dark to one possessing
all that fortune can donate?”
She added a number of profound reflections on the vanity of life,
ending with a brilliant epigram. It had scarcely died upon her lips
when Armitage arrived upon the tapis and took in the situation at a
glance. Striding hastily forward, he bowed gracefully and signified a
desire to know the cause of her abstraction. She burst into tears and
complied with his wish. Then she flung herself about his neck and
accorded full expression to her grief, which he delicately professed
not to observe; for this noble figure had been educated in the best
schools of European gentility.

From “But a Single Thought.”

Seeing her proceeding away from him, perhaps forever, Auvergne
intercepted her with an expression of regret for his rudeness,
coupled with a plea for pardon. For a breathless instant she stayed
her progress as if uncertain as to the degree of his offense, then
resumed her pace till she reached the river’s brim. With an
unconscious prayer she sprang swooning into the breakers and was
with difficulty prevented from meeting a watery grave.

From “A Belle of Castile.”

Josephina had progressed but a brief distance into the garden
when some inner sense proclaimed that she was followed: the
crunching of a gentleman’s heel upon the gravel was indisputable.
Partially terrified, she sought concealment in the shrubbery that
bordered the path on the one side and the other. It passed by her
there in the moonlight, that dreadful sound, yet no one visible! It
went on and on, growing fainter and fainter, like herself, and was
lost to hearing. Then she remembered the tradition of the Invisible
Knight and her heart smote her for the absence of faith with which
she had so often greeted it.
“I am fitly punished,” she conceded, “for my sceptical attitude.
Henceforth, so far as the constitution of my mind will permit, I will
be more hospitable to the convictions of the simple.”
How she adhered to this expiational resolution we shall behold.

From “The Queen’s Chaperon.”

The duke stepped from his carriage to a neighboring hill and cast
his eye athwart his ancestral domain. “All this,” he mused, “I must
renounce if I comply with the queen’s royal suggestion to fly with
her to Rome. Is she worth the privation? I must have time to
consider a transaction of such great importance.”
 Hastily entering his carriage, he haughtily bade the coachman
drive him to some expensive hotel, whence he dispatched a
delicately perfumed note to her Majesty, saying that he should be
detained a few days by affairs of state, but assuring her of his
uncommon fidelity. Then he retired to his couch and thought it all
over in Italian. The next day he arose and fled rapidly.

From “The Uplifting of Lennox.”

On hearing the terrible news Myra fell supine to earth without
delay!
“Is it nothing?” inquired Lennox. “Is it only a temporary
indisposition?—will it soon pass?”
But Myra replied only with a significant pallor which told all too
plainly what the most accomplished linguist would vainly have
striven to express.
How long she lay unconscious we know not, but promptly on
becoming her previous self she let fall a multitude of tears.
Lennox yielded to the requirements of etiquette and stole away.

From “Bertha of Bootha.”

As they strolled along the Riviera the setting sun was just touching
the summit of the Alps and firing them with an electrical glow.
Turning to her, he looked into her beautiful eyes and thus expressed
himself:
“Dearest, I am about to make an important statement.”
She almost instantly divined the character of the communication
that he referred to, and it affected her with perturbation. It was so
sudden. “If,” she remarked, “you could postpone the statement
above mentioned until a more suitable occasion I should regard your
forbearance with satisfaction.”
“Very well,” he replied, with coldness, “I will wait until we are not
alone.”
 “Thank you, ever so much,” she blushed, and all was silence. Later
in the season he explained to her the trend of his affections, and she
signified the pleasure that she derived from his preference.

From “Hertha of Hootha.”

The moon rose in the east without a sound and the ripples on the
bosom of the main ran silently to the beach. Hertha and Henri,
having similar sensibilities, were equally overcome by the solemnity
of the scene, and neither inaugurated a conversation. Their love was
too true for utterance by human tongue. Thus they paced for a
considerable period, when suddenly the silence was cut asunder by
a woman’s scream!
“I know that voice,” cried Henri, hastily divesting himself of as
many of his upper garments as, under the circumstances, he
deemed it proper to do; “it is Minetta committing suicide!”
He immediately plunged into the Atlantic, while Hertha stood
rooted to the sand, endeavoring to regulate her emotions. In a few
moments, which seemed an age, he emerged from the deep,
bearing the deceased, whom he tenderly flung at her rival’s feet.
Then the survivors knelt and prayed in both English and French.

From “Ethel Shanks.”

Ethel hastened slowly along the path leading to the cliff above the
lake. The full moon was rising in the east, for the hour was
midnight, and her warm radiance bathed the landscape in a blue
languor.
To Ethel the sky had never seemed so blue, nor the Polyanthes
tuberosa in her corsage so white. She drank joy with her every
breath, and she breathed quickly from her exertion in climbing the
eminence on which she stood. Hearing footprints approaching, she
turned, and the baron stood before her! “I was hasty,” he explained.
“I should not have disclosed my love with such abruption. Permit me
to withdraw my inconsiderate declaration.”
 Ethel’s heart sank within her! She could not refuse him the desired
permission; that would not have been genteel: and Ethel was under
all circumstances the lady. So she beat back the tears and said:
“Please, sir, dismiss it from attention.”
The cry of her broken heart was unheard by that callous ear,
unaccustomed to the sad, sweet chords evoked from the harp of a
dead hope. The nobleman lit his pipe and, his cruel errand
performed, returned to his ancestral mansion. For one or two
moments Ethel stood on the brink of eternity. Precipitating herself
from the extreme edge, she awaited death with composure; she had
done her full duty and had no fear of the Hereafter.... At the base of
the precipice she came into violent contact with a large granite
boulder and was no more.
They found her body at the feet of the cliff, and the baron was
torn by conflicting emotions, for the head lay at some distance from
the trunk, a truly melancholy spectacle.
“Can it be possible,” he remarked, “that she is no more?”
Assured by the physician that such was the fact, he signified a
high degree of regret and strode from the spot unattended; and to
this day his fate is cloaked in the impenetrable waters of oblivion.

From “A Demising Love.”

James endeavored ineffectually to ascertain the trend of her
affections: her expression remained a blank. He erroneously
attributed his failure to poor skill in physiognomy and inwardly
bewailed his youthful neglect of the advantages of education. While
so engaged he fancied he detected in her look something significant
of an interest in his personality. Could he be mistaken? No, there it
was again!
Arising from his sedentary attitude to the full stature of his young
manhood, he crossed the intervening Persian rug and possessed
himself of her hand.
 “Mabel,” he inquired, “do you not experience the promptings of a
dawning tenderness for one to whom you are much?”
Receiving no negative answer he kissed her simultaneously on
both cheeks, and, falling rapidly upon one knee, poured out his soul
in beautiful language, mostly devoted to commendation of her fine
character and disposition.
Mabel did not at once respond. She was deceased.

From “March Hares.”

Mrs. Rorqual deposited her embroidery on the sofa by her side
and, slightly changing color, said, “No, my ideals are not
unchangeable; they have undergone memorable alteration within
the last hour.”
“Let us hope,” said D’Anchovi, uncrossing his hands, and putting
one forefinger into a buttonhole of his coat, “that they are still high.”
She resumed her embroidery and, looking at a painting of the
martyrdom of St. Denis over the mantel, replied, “Would it matter?”
“Surely,” said he, lightly beating the carpet with the heel of his
well-fitting shoe; “for ideals are more than thoughts. I sometimes
think they are things—that we are their thoughts.”
She did not immediately reply. A curtain at an open window
moved audibly. A sunbeam crept through the lattice of the piazza
outside and fell upon the window-ledge. The fly previously
mentioned now walked indolently along the top of the Japanese
screen, then fearlessly descended the face of it to within an inch of
the mouth of a painted frog. D’Anchovi, with a lifting of his
eyebrows, maintained a determined silence.
“I should think that an uncomfortable creed,” Mrs. Rorqual said at
last, withdrawing the tip of her shoe, which had been visible beneath
the edge of her gown, and shifting her gaze from St. Denis to one of
the crystal ornaments of the candelabrum pendent from the ceiling.
 He passed the fingers of his right hand through his hair, slightly
shifted his position on his chair and said: “Mrs. Rorqual, I have to
thank you for a most agreeable hour. Shall I see you on the golf-
links to-morrow?”
So they parted, but when he was gone she toyed thoughtfully with
a spray of heliotrope growing in a jardinière and then ran her
forefinger along a part of the pattern of the wallpaper.

From “A Study in Dissection.”

Captain Gerard introspected. He spread his heart, as it were, upon
the dissecting-table of conscience and examined it from several
points of view. It is a familiar act—we call it analysis of motive.
When he had concluded he knew why he had accepted the invitation
of the countess to dinner. He knew why he had insulted the count.
Equally obvious were his reasons for mentioning to Iphigeneia the
holy bonds of matrimony. In all his conduct since his last
introspection but one act baffled him: why, alas, had he spoken to
Iphigeneia of the bar-semester in his crest?
As he pondered this inexplicable problem a footfall fell upon his
ear and he shuddered as if the hand of death had stepped in.
It was the countess!

From “Her Diplodocus.”

“Sir!” Miss Athylton drew herself up to her full height and looked
her interlocutor squarely in the visage. For an instant he returned
her scrutiny; then his eyes fell to the earth, stammering apologies.
With a sweeping curtsey she passed out of the room, hand over
hand.

From “L’Affaire Smith.”

As they sat there wrapping their arms about each other, she
advanced the belief that they had loved in a former state of
existence.
“But not as now, Irene, surely not as now.”
 She was well content to let him feel so about it, and did not seek
to alter the character of his emotion. To have done so would have
cut her to the heart. On the contrary, a little bird perched in the
passion-vine above them and sang several thrilling passages.

From “Clarisse.”
He gazed into her beautiful eyes for a considerable period, during
which he did not converse; then he said, with an effort to be
sociable: “It has been represented to me that you are a lady of great
wealth. May I inquire if I have been rightly informed?”
Blushing energetically at the compliment, she replied in silence,
and for a few minutes there was an embarrassing hiatus in the
exchange of thought and feeling.
Fearing that he had offended her, the duke arose, and striding to
the grand piano began to improvise diligently. At that moment there
came in through the open window a sound of wheels on the gravel
outside.
He ceased in the middle of a nocturne and would have left the
room, but she restrained him:
“It is only my father returning from India,” smiled she; “I shall be
so glad to introduce you.”
The full horror of the situation burst upon him like a thunderbolt
out of a clean sky.
“Madam,” he thundered, “your father is dead! He died of the
plague in Bombay, and I attended the funeral, although he had
cursed me with his last breath. I cannot—cannot meet him!”
With those words falling from his white lips he flung himself out of
the room. A servant entered and handed Clarisse the visiting card of
Mrs. Delahanty.

From “Mary Ann & Co.”

As they neared each other on the narrow bridge Paul observed
that she was profoundly agitated.
 “Darling,” he said, “please to signify the cause of your
perturbation. It is not impossible that I may be able to remove it.
You know,” he added, “that I have studied medicine.”
She blushed deeply, then turned pale and continued to tremble.
He seized her hand and laid two fingers upon her wrist.
“The pulse,” he said, “is abnormally frequent and irregular.”
With a barely audible expression of disapproval, she withdrew her
hand and endeavored to pass him on the narrow footway of the
bridge. A misstep precipitated her into the stream, from which with
no small difficulty she was taken in a dying condition, a half-mile
below. The person that drew her forth from the waters was Paul’s
aged uncle.
“Tell Paul Dessard,” she said with her last breath, “that I love him,
die for him! Tell him how I strove successfully to hide my love from
him lest he think me unmaidenly; but it cannot matter now if he
know it. Tell him all, I pray you tell him all, and add that in that
Better Land whither I go my spirit will await him with impatience,
prepared to explain all.”
The good old man bent over her, placed his open hand behind his
ear and ejaculated:
“Hay?”
She shook her head with an infinite pathos and suspired.

From “Ideals.”
Where the grand old Hudson river rolls its floods seaward between
the rugged Palisades and the agricultural country of its eastern bank
Janey Sewell dwelt in a little vine-covered cottage in one of the most
picturesque spots of the latter.
Janey was beautiful all day long. Her hair was as dark as the
pinion of a crow, and her brown eyes rivaled in lustre the sheen of
the sunlight on the bosom of the river. She was also a fine French
scholar.
 Janey’s parents had dwelt in Yonkers from time immemorial, and
sweet to her was her native environment, whence no proffers of a
marriage into the aristocracy or nobility of England could entice her.
Many coroneted hearts had been flung at her feet—many were the
impassionate pleas that ducal lips had poured into her ear; she
remained fancy free, determined to bestow her affection upon some
worthy member of an American labor union or die a maid. We shall
see with what indomitable tenacity she adhered through
disheartening trials to that commendable policy.

From “Oopsie Mercer.”

For a long time—it seemed an eternity—they sat there hand in
hand, in the gloaming. The sheep-bells tinkled faintly in the glen,
and from an adjacent thicket the whip-poor-will sang rapturously.
The katydid grated out her mysterious accusation from the branch of
an oak overhead; the cricket droned among the glow-worms
underfoot. All these vocal efforts were conspicuously futile; in their
newly found happiness the lovers heeded nothing but each other. O
love!
Suddenly, on the dew-starred sward, a loud oath rang out behind
them. Harold rose promptly to his own feet, the lady remaining in
session on the log, her hands demurely folded in her lap. The report
of a firearm illuminated the gloom, and ere Harold could intercept
the deadly missile it had pierced Miss Mercer’s heart! She fell
forward and died without medical assistance.
Harold mounted the log and obtained a fairly good view of the
aggressor; it was James Wroth, and he was engaged in taking a
second aim. With the lightning-like intuition of a brave man in an
emergency Harold inferred that he was the intended victim.
“Fiend!” sprang he, and a death struggle was inaugurated without
delay.
Let us go back to the time when we left James Wroth nourishing
the fires of an intellectual tempest implanted by Miss Mercer’s
rejection of his suit, and embarking for Europe in another tongue.
From “Lance and Lute.”
The faint booming of the distant cannon grew more and more
deafening; the thunder of the charging cavalry reverberated o’er the
field of battle: the enemies were evidently making a stand.
Plympton arrived at the scene of action just as the commanding
general ordered an advance along the entire front. Spurring his
steed to the centre of the line he rang out his voice in accents of
defiance and was promoted for gallantry.
Bertram who was an eye-witness, immediately withdrew his
objection to the marriage. This took place shortly afterward and was
attended with the happiest results.

From “Sundry Hearts.”

When presented to the object of his devotion the earl could not
suppress his sentiments. The Lady Gwendolin saw them as plainly as
if they had been branded upon his brow. Her agitation was
comparable to his. All the pent-up emotion of her deep, womanly
nature surged to her countenance and paralyzed her so that she was
unable to offer her hand. She consequently contented herself with a
graceful inclination of the head. The Earl was excessively
disappointed. Turning upon his heel he bowed and walked away.
Gwendolin retired to the conservatory and uttered a deep-drawn
sigh, then, returning to the ballroom, flung herself into the waltz
with an assumed ecstasy that elicited wide comment.

From “La Belle Damn.”

Under the harvest moon, now at its best, the corpse of Ronald
showed ghastly white, the frost sparkling in its beard and hair.
Clementine’s consciousness of its impulchritude was without a flaw.
Had she ever really experienced an uncommon, an exceptional,
tenderness for an object boasting so little charm? She was hardly
able to take that view of the matter. All seemed unreal, indistinct
and charged with dubiety. A sudden rustling in the circumjacent
vegetation startled her from her dream, suggesting considerations of
personal safety. Surveying the body for the last time, she impelled
the stiletto into a contiguous tarn and left the scene with measured
tread.

From “The Recrudescence of Squollander.”

“Clifford,” said Isabel, earnestly yet softly, “are you sure that you
truly love me?”
Clifford presented such testimony and evidence as he could
command, and requested her decision on the sufficiency of what he
had advanced.
“Oh, Clifford,” she said, laying her two little hands in one of his
comparatively large ones, “you have extirpated my ultimate
uncertainty.”
 THE GREAT STRIKE OF 1895
NEW YORK, July 2, 1895.—The strike of the American Authors’ Guild
continues to hold public attention. No event in the history of trades-
unionism since the great railroad strike of last year has equaled it in
interest. Nothing else is talked of here. In some parts of the city all
business is suspended and the excitement grows more intense
hourly.
At about 10 o’clock this morning a non-union author attempting to
enter the premises of D. Appleton & Co. with a roll of manuscript
was set upon by a mob of strikers and beaten into insensibility. The
strikers were driven from their victim by the police, but only after a
fight in which both sides suffered severely.

New York, July 3.—Rioting was renewed last night in front of the
boycotted publishing house of Charles Scribner’s Sons, 153–157 Fifth
avenue. Though frequently driven back by charges of the police,
who used their clubs freely, the striking authors succeeded in
demolishing all the front windows by stone-throwing. One shot was
fired into the interior, narrowly missing a young lady typewriter. Mr.
William D. Howells, a member of the Guild’s board of managers,
declares that he has irrefragable proof that this outrage was
committed by some one connected with the Publishers’ Protective
League for the purpose of creating public sympathy.
It has been learned that the non-union author so severely beaten
yesterday died of his injuries last night. His name is said to have
been Richard Henry (or Hengist) Stoddard, formerly a member of
the Guild, but expelled for denouncing the action of President
Brander Matthews in ordering the strike.
Later.—Matters look more and more threatening. A crowd of ten
thousand authors, headed by Col. Thomas Wentworth Higginson, is