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T w SIE HUGH'S LOVES. CHAPTER XXXIU. TUB tumm AT aowAa-ouM. W«ary I am, aod all w lair, liOUKiiiK l^ claftp a band ; For Ibou art vrry far, iweoi love, Fniui luy mouutaui laud. Dear are the clouds yon giaut b«iu Fold u'ur tbalr ruBMad bmata, Qraiiilly their •tracgUus akirta Utt ap Oiur tha â- nuw-flaokod oraat*. Bear are ilia lilll uiilo glooms aiid gleami, Tlioir Tarloil puriile how. TbU npal Hky. witli diHtant peak Catcliiug it* tciidur blue. Dear aro the thouiand nlreama thai alog l>uwn to the Buuuy wja, Hut (irarer to idv loiiK'ng heart Wi^ro uue bri^iit hour with ttiae. Iltlm Moricn Bumtitlf, It wan tovrsrdH oveuin);, at the close of a lovely Keptember day, that a roa^jh e<jnip- page laden with lut^age, with a black retriever t;aiiibolinf; joyouHly beside it crept rather slowly down the lonj» lovely road by the Deeside leading to Rowan-Glen, one of thoae rare f<enis of UiKhland aconery that are aet no rutjgedly in the Cairngorm moun- tains. Fay had just Hholtered her sleepin),' baby from the rayu of the netting san ; and sat wearily in the jolting oamai^ trying to recall all tho familiar laodmarki that greeted her eyes- There were the groojida and pMeerves of MoncrirfT. with their lovely Innftes o( dark sine trees and uivery birahes, and a Utile farther on the wicket gate that led down to the (aUsorlinn of Kowan- Glen. By and by came a few low cottages boilt tA grey stone, aud thatched with heather fastened down with a rough net- work of ropes. One or two of them were covered with honeysuckle and cleinatia, and had tiny gardens tilled with vegetables and flowers, pinks and rosea mingling in Iriendly oonfusion with gooaeberry ba es and cabbages. A narrow plaukod passage ran through thaoottages, with adoor at the other end opening on to a umaU held, with the usual oow-hoQBo, (leat and straw ataoka, and a little shed inhabited by a few acraggy cocks •nd hens which with "taa ooo" herself are the household property of all, even the poor. Mt, of the Highland peaaauta. Fay looked eagerly past them, and for a moment forgot her trouble and weariness: for there, in the distance, as they tnrntd the corner, stretched the long irregular rangeof the Cairngorm moantaiiis, with the dirk shadow of the I'oreat of Mar at their base; whila to the rioht, far above the lesser and Siore fertile hiUs, roao the anowy heads of those Htately patriarohaâ€" Ben-maich-dtui •nd Ben-na-bourd. Oh, tliose glorious Uighland mountains, with their rugged |X)aks. against which the fretted clouds "get wrecked and KO to pieoes." What a glory, what a miracle they •re ! On sunny mornings with their inUuitT of wondrous color so Hoftly, so harmoDI- onsly blended ; now changing like an opal with every cloud that sails over them, and now with deep violet shadows hunting thoir hollows, sunny breaks and ttecka, and long ({lowing stretches of heather. Well has Jean Ingelow Hung of them : ". . . . White ralmoot, the ghoatly cape* that sorutm tluim. Of till' •turiuwhids that beat tbaui,tlwlrtl OQder rnnta and Boars, And the paradise of purple, and tfaefoldeu tlopas atwoou tboiii ," for surely there ooold not be a granckir or fairer accne on Uod'a uarth than this. A moment luter the vehicle Btop|>otl before a white gate sot in a hedge of tall laurels and arbutus, and the driver got down and came round to the window " Yonder's t' maniiu. Will I oarry in the boxes for the leddy ?'• •' No, no, wait a moment," replied Fay, hnrriedly. " 1 muat see it Mrs. Duncan be at home- Will yon heip me out ?" for her imbs were trembling under her, and the weight of thu baby was too much for her exhausted strength. Khe felt as though she ooiild never get to the end of the steep little garden, <>r reach the stone porch. Yes; it was the same old grey house she remem- bered, with the small diamond-paned windows twinkling in the sunshino ; and as ahe toiled u|i the narrow path, with Nero barking delightedly round her, the door o|x>ned, and a little old lady with a white heod drawn over her white curls, and a gar- dening basket on her arm, stepped ont into the porch. Fay gave a little cry when she saw her. *'Oh, Mrs. Ilnmatn," she said ; and she and the baby together aoemcd to totter aul collapse in the little old lady's arma. "Oracions heavens f" exclaimed the star- tled woman ; then, auhur basket and scissors rolled to the ground, " Jean, lass, where are yon V here sre two bairns, and one of them looks fit to faint ay, why, it is never our dear little Miss MorJaunt? Why, my bairn " But at this moment a red- haired, freckled woman, with a iileasaiit, weather- beaten faoe, i|nietly lifted tlie mother and child, and carried them into a dusky little parlor ; and in another minnte Fay found herself lying on a couch. and the baby crying lustily in Jear's arms, while the little old lady was bathing her face with some cold, fragrant water, with the tears rolling down her cheeks. • " Ay, my bonnie woman," ahesaid, "you have given Jean and mn atum ; and there's the big doggie, too, that would Ixi after licking your faoeâ€" and for all he knows you are better nowâ€" like a (yhristiaii. Him away, Jean, and warm a sup of milk for the bairn, and may bo his mother wonldlike a cup of tea and a fretihly-baked scone. There, give me the baby, and I'll hold him while yoii are gone." â- â-  There's Andrew bringing in a heap of boxes," observed ,Iean, stolidly ; "will lie be setting them down in the porch ? for wo must not wake the minister." .'' " Ay, ay," retiirnod Mrs Duncan, in a bewildered tone ; but she hardly took in the Benin of .lean's speech -she was rouk- . log the baby in her old arms and looking at the pretty, white, sunken faoe that lay on the chintz. ciiHhion. Of course it was little JUiss Mordauiit, but what did it mean what could it all mean ? "Mrs. Duncan," whispered Fay, as she raised harai If on her pillow, " I have come to you hecBiiHe I am ho unhappy, and I have no other friend. I am married, and â-  this is roy>»ljyi and my huab*itd does not " want me, and indeed it would have killed me to stop with him, and I have come to yon, and he mast not find me, and you mast take care of baby and mo," and here her tears burst ont, and she clung round the old lady's nook, " I have money, and I can pay the minister; and I am so fond of you both â€" do let me stay." " Whisht, whisht, my dearie," returned Mrs. Duncan, wiping her own eyes aud Fay's. " Uf course you shall bide with me ; would either Donald or 1 turnout the shorn lamb to face the tempest ? Married, my bairn; why you look only lit for a oot your- self ; and with a bairn of your own, too. And to think that any man could ill-use a creature like that," half to herself; but Fay droo()ed her head as she heard her. Mrs. Duucan thought Hugh was cruel to her, and that she had fled from his ill- treatment, aud she dare not contradict this notion. " You must never speak to me of my hus- band," continued Fay, with an agitation that still further misled Mrs. Duncan. " I should have died if I had stopiied with him ; but I ran away, and I knew he would never find me here. I have money enoughâ€" ah, plenty â€" so you will not be put to expense. You may take care of my purse ; and I have moreâ€" a great deal more;" and Fay held ont to the daz/Jeil bj ca of the old lady a purse full of bank notes and glittering gold pieces, which seemed riches itself to her Highland simplicity. " Ay, aud just look at the diamonds and emeralds on your fingers, niy dearie ; your man must have plenty of this world'sgoods. What do they call him, my bairn, and where does he live?" But Fay skilfully fenced these iiuestions. She called herself Mrs. Hi. Clair, she said, and her husband was a landed proprieter, and lived in one of the midland counties in Kngland ; and then she tnrne.i Mrs. Duncan's attention by ask- ing her if she and baby might have the room her father slept in. Then Jean brought in the tea and buttertd soones, and the milk for the baby ; and while Mrs. Duncan fed him, she told Fay about her own tronble. For tha kind, white-headed minister, whom Fay remembered, was lying now in bis last illness ; and he had had two strokes of paralysis, and the third would carry him off, the aoctor said. " One blessing is, my Donald does not suffer," continued Mrs. Duncan, with a quiver of hor lip; "he is quite helpless, poor man, and cannot stir himself, anJjean lilts him up as thounh he were a baby ; but he Bleeps most of his time, aud when he is awake he never troubles â€" he just talks about the old time wlien he brought me first to ijie manse; and BOinel|mos he fancies liobbie and Eisieare pulling flowers in the gardenâ€" and no doubt they areâ€" the darlings, only it is in the garden of Para- dise ; and maybe there are plenty of rosea and lilies there, such as Sijlomon talked about in the Canticles." " And who takes the daty for Mr. Dun- can ?" asked Fay, who was much dis- tressod to hear this account of her kind old friend. " Well, our nephew, Fergus, rides over from Corrie to take the servicea for the Kabbath. lie is to be wedded to Lilian Uraham, down at the farm yonder, and sometimes he puts up at the manse and sometimes at the farm ; and they do say, when my Donald has gone to the land of the leal, that Fergus will come to the Mante ; for though he is young, he is a powerful preacher, and even Bt. I'anl bids Tiiiuithy to ' let no one despise his youth ;' but I am wearying yon, m^' bairn, and Jean has kindled a fire in the pink room, for the nights are chilly, and yon aud me will bo going up and leaving the big doggie to take care uf himself." But " the big doggie " was of a different opinion ; ho quite approved of his hostess, but it was against his urinciples to allow his mistress to go out of his sight. Things were on a different footing now ; and ever •inoe they had left Redmond Hall, Nero considered himself responsible for the safety of bis two charges ; so he riuietly followed them into the pleasant low. cellinged be<l- room, with its window lookingover the old. fashioned garden and orchard, and laid himself down with his nose between his paws, watching Jean fill the baby's bath, to the edification of the two women. Jean helped Fay unpack a few necessary articles, and then went down to warm the porridge for her master's supper ; but Mrs. Duncan pinned up her grey stuffgown and sat down by the fire to undress the baby, while Fay languidly got ready for bed. It was well that the mother and child had fallen into thu hands of these good Hainsritans. In spite of hor wretchedness and the strange weight (hat lay so heavy on her young heart, a sort of hazy comfort stole over Fay as she lay between the coarse lavender. scented sheets and listened to her baby's coos as he streti-hed his little limbs in the warm firelight, " Ay, ho i» as fine and hearty as onr Rob- bie was," observed Mrs. Duncan with a sigh ; and so she prattled on, now praising the baby's beauty, and nowrximmentiiig on the fineness af his i^ambrio shirts, and the value of the lace that trimmed his night- dress, until Fay fell anleep, and thought she was listening to a little brook that had overflowed its banks, and was running down a stony hillside. Hhe hardly woke up when Mra- I'Unoan pla(«d the baby in her arms, and left them with a murmured benediction, and went down for a gossip with Jean. " And a lovelier sight my old eyes never saw," she said, " than that young creature, who looks only a child herself, with the bonnio boy in her arms, and her golden-brown hair cover- ing them lioth. 'Deed, Jean, the man must have an evil spirit in hira to 111 treat a little angel like that. But wo will keep her safe, my woman, as sure as my name is Jeauie Duncan ;" and to this Jean agreed. They were both innocent unsophisticated women who knew nothing of the world's ways, and, as Mrs. Duncan had said, " they would as soon have turned a Hhorii lamb away, and left it exposed to the temiiest," as shut their door against Fay and hor child. Fay was not able to rise from the bed the nrxt day ; indeed for more than a week she was almost as helpless as a bahy, and had to submit to a great deal of nursing. Mrs. Duncan was quite in hor element petting hor gaest, and ordering Jean about; for she was a brisk, i bnstling Utile woman, and far more active than 'her three-ecore-andten years I warranted. I It was a delight to her motherly nature to dress and undrcHS Fay's bonnie boy. She woald prose for hoora about Robbie and Klsie as «he sat beside the homely cradle that had once held her own children , while Fay listened languidly. It was all she could do to lie there and sleep and cat. Perhaps it was bodily exhaustion, but a sort of lull had come to her. She censed to fret, and only wondered dreamily if Hugh were very pleased to get rid of her, and what be was doing, and who dusted and arranged bis papers for him now she was no longer there. But of course Mrs. Heron would see to that. Jean had plenty of work in her hands, but she never grumbled. There was the baby's washing and extra cooking, and the care of her old master. But in spite of her hard work, she often contrived to find her way to tho pink room ; for Jean worshipped babies, and it was a proud moment when she could get the boy in her arms and carry him out for a breath of air. Mrs. Duncan told Fay that she had had greatdifficulty in making her husband under- stand the facts of the caBe."His brain was j uat a wee bit clouded to every-day matters," she said ; but he knew that he had guests at the Manse, aud charged his wife to show every hospi- tality. "'I'here'B a deal said about the virtue of hospitality iu the Bible," he continued. " There waa Abraham and the fatted oalf ; and the good widows in the apostles' time who washed the feet of strangers ; aud soma have entertained angels unaware; and it shall never bo said of us, Jeanie woman, that we turned anybody from the Manse." Fay went to see the old man when she was strong enough to leave her room, which was not for a fortnight after her arrival. Hhe found him lying on one side of the big bed with brown moreen hangings that she remembered so well, with his head pillowed high, and bia fine old face t turned towards the setting â- on. He looked at her with a placid smile as she stood beside himâ€" a small girlish figure, now sadly frail and drooping, with her boy in her arms â€" and held out his left handâ€" the right arm was helpleas. " Mother and child," he mnrmnred ; " it i always before our eyea, the Divine picture; and old and young, it toaches the manhood within us. So you have come to bide a wee with Jeanie aud me iu the old Manse, my dear young lady ; av, and you are kindly welcome. And folks do say that there is no air so fine aa ours, and no milk so pure aa our brindled cow givfe,aiid may be it will give yoa a little oolbr into your cheeks." " Don't you remember me, Mr. Duncan ?" asked Fay, somewhat disappointed to find herself treated like an ordinary visitor. '• Don't you remember Fay Mordannt, the little girl who used to play with you in the orchard ? but I am afraid I was older than I looked." " Klsie used to play with me in the orchard," replied the old man, wistfully; " but Jeanie sayt tho has gone to Heaven with wee liobbie. Nay, I never remember names, except Jeanieâ€" and may be Jean oomei handy. And there is one name I never forget â€" the name of Lord Jesus ;" and he bowed his old head rever. ently. "Come away, my bairn; Donald will have plenty to say to you another time," aaid lUrs. Duncan, kindly. "He is a bit drowsy now, and he is apt to wandlbrat such times." But the minister hoard hor and a sort of holy smile lit up his rugged face. " Ay, but go'U no let me wander far; I have always got a grip of Hin hand, and if my old fe.!t stumble a bit I am just lifted up. No, I could not forget His name, which IS Love, and nothing else. But pot- haps you are right, Jeanie, lass, and I am a bit sleepy. Take both the bairns away, and watch over them asthoughthey were lambs of the fold -and so they aro lambs of His fold," finished the old man. " And may be the Shepherd found them straying, poor bit creatures, and sent them here for yon and me to mind, my woman." CHAPTER XXXIV. TRACKBD AT UVBT. Thus It was granted To know that be loved me to the depth and hsiKbt or such Urije uatuies; ever competent. With Kraiid horizons by tho soa or land. To love's grand Bunrlso. HiitttMh Itiirrrit llroHnino. It was at the close of a lovely Heptem- ber (lay that llaby Ferrers Bat alone in the piazza of a large fashionable boarding-house in W . This favorite Amonpan water- ing-place was, aa nsual, thronged by visitors, who came either to seek relief for various ailments from tho far-famed hot springs, or to enjoy the salubrious air and splendid scenery that made W so notorious. The piazza was alwaysthe favorite lounge at all hours of tho day, but esi>ecially towards evening. A handsome striped awning, and tho natural shade of the splendid tropical plants that twined roimd the slender pillars, gave a pleasant shade even at noonday. Ilroad low steps led to the gardens, and deck. chairs and cushioned rocking chairs were placed invitingly at intervals. A gay bevy of girls had just taken posses- sion of these coveted seats, and were chat- tering with the young men who had just followed them out of the hot dining-room; but no one invaded the quiet corner where the Knglish clergyman had established himself, though many n pair of laughing oyos grew a little sad and wistful when they rested on the grave, abstracted faoe of the blind man. " lie looks 80 dulU" observed one girlâ€" tt fair delicate blonde, who was evidently the bt^lle, for she was surrounded by at leant half a doz^n young men. " I have half a mind to go and speak to him myself only you would all bo watching me." " Miss Bollagrovo cannot fail to be the oynoBure of all oyes," returned a beardless dapper young man with the unmistakable Yankee accent ; hut to this remark Miss Bellagrovo merely turned a cold shoalder. " His BiHlcr has been away moat of the afternoon," she continued, addressing al good-looking young officer who held her fan. " It was BO clever of you to I'md out that s hn was his sister, Captain Mandaley. hsd quite made up my mind that they were married ; yes, cf course, every one must notioe the likeness between them ; but then they might have been cousins, and ahe does seem so devoted to him." But here a whispered admonition in her ear made Misa IJellagrove break off her sentence rather abruptly, as at that moment Miss Ferrera' tall figure, in the usual grey gown, was seen crossing one of the little lawns towards tho piazza. "She is wonderfully distinguished look- ing," was Miss Bellagrove'B next remark. " Most Knglish women are tall, I do believe ; don't yon think hor face beautiful. Captain Maudsley ;" but the reply to this made Miss Bellagrove change color very prettilv. Raby was profoundly oblivions of the interest he was exciting ; he was wondering what had detained Margaret all these hours and if she would have any news to bring him. As yet their journey had been fruitless. They had reached New York just as Miss Campion and her companion had quitted it ; they had followed on their trackâ€" but had always arrived either a day or an hour too late. Now and then they had to wait until a letter from Fern gave them more decided particulars. Occasionally they made a mistake and found that Miss Campion had changed her pl»nn. Once they were in the same train, and Margaret never found it out until she saw Crystal leave the carriage, aud then there was no time to follow her. Margaret shed tears of disappointment, and blamed herself for her own blindness; but liaby never re- proached her. Ho was growing heart-sick and weary by this time. They had spent six weeks in this search, and were as far from success as everâ€" no wonder Baby's face looked grave and overcast as he sat alone in the piazza. Even Margaret's protracted absence raised no sanguine expectations in his mind ; on the contrary, as his practised oar recognized her footstep, he breathed a short prayer for patience. "Dear Raby," she said, softly, as she took a seat beside him and unfastened the claape of her long cloak ; " I have been away a longer time than usual ; have you been wanting me '.'" " Oh, no," with a faint smile; "Fergnaon took care of me at dinner, and I liad a pleasant American widow on the other side who amused me very muchâ€" she told me some capital stories about the Canadian settlers ; ao, on the whole, I did very well. I begin to like Ferguson immensely ; he is a little broad, but still very sensible in hia views. He comes from Cumberland, he tells me, and has rather a large cure of souls." " Yes, dear,''â€" but Margaret spoke ahsently â€" "but yon do not ask me what I have been doing, Kaby." "No," â€" very slowly; and then, a touch of sadness. '• I begin to think it is better not to ask." " Poor fellow," â€" laying her hand on his arm caressingly. "Yes, I understand you are beginning to lose hope. What did I tell yon last nightâ€"that it is always the dark- est hour before the dawn. Do you remem- ber how fond Crystal was of that song ? Well, it la true, Raby ; I have been stop- ping away for some purpose this after- noon. Crystal and Miss Campion are here." " Here !" and at Raby's exclamation more than one head turned in the direction of brother and sister. " Yee, in W . Bo not speak so load, Raby ; you are making people look at us. Take my arm, and we will go into the shrubberies; no one will disturb us there." And as she guided him down the steps, aud then across a secluded lawn, Raby did not st>eak again until tho scent of the flowering shrubs told him they had entered one of the quiet paths leading away from the house. " Now, tell me, Maggie," he aaid, quickly ; and Margaret obeyed at once. " I was at tho station, as we planned, and saw them arrive ; BO for once the infor- mation was correct. Crystal got ont first, and went in search of the luggage. I cou- oealed myself behind a bale of goodsâ€" wool packs, I believeâ€" and she passed me quite closely ; I could have touched her with my hand. She looked very well, only thinner, and I think older ; it struck me she had grown, too, for she certainly looked taUer." " It is possible ; and you really saw her face, Margaret?" " Yes ; she was looking away. She is as beautiful as ever, Raby. No wonder people stare at her so. Sho is as much liKe your ideal Esther as she used to be, only there is a grander look about her altogether â€" less like the girl, and more of the woman." " Ah, she has suffered so ; wo have all aged, Maggie. She will think us both changed." Margaret suppresBed a sigh â€" she was almost thankful that Raby's blind eyes could not SCO tho difference in her. Ue was (luite unconscious that her youthful bloom had faded, and that her fair face had a settled, matured look that seldom comes before middle age ; aud she was glad that this was so. Neither of them spoke now of the strange blight that had passed ovor her yonng life. Margaret had long since ceased to weep over it ; it was hor cross she said, aud sho had learnt its weight by this time. "Well, Margaret?" for she had paused for a moment. " I did not dare to leave isy place of con- cealment until sho had passed. I saw Miss Campion join her. She is a pleasant, briak, looking woman with grey hair, an<l rather a young face. I followed theiu out of the station, and heard them order tho driver to bring them here." " Here I To this house, Margaret ?" " Yes- wait a moment â€" but of course 1 knew what Mrs. O'Brien would sayâ€" that there was no room ; so I did not tronble to follow them very closely ; in fact I knew it would bo useless. When I did arrive 1 went straight to Mrs. O'Brien's parlor and asked if she had managed to accommodate tho two ladies." " ' I did not know they were friends of yonrs. Miss Ferrers,' she said, regretfully. â-  But what could I do? There is not a vacant bed in tko house, and I know the hotel would be just as full ; so I sent them down to Mrs. Maddox at tho corner house, down yonder â€" it is only a stoue's throw ffom here. And, as I told tho ladies, they can join tie at luncheon and dinner, and make use of the drawing. room. I knew Mrs. Maddox had hor two best bedrooms and the front parlor empty.' Of course I thanked Mrs. O'Brien, and aaid no doubt thia would do excellently for our friends; and then • walked past the corner house and foand they were carrying in the luggage, and Mies Campion was standing at the door talking to a colored servant." "You actually passed the house? Oh, Margaret, how imprudent. Hup- posing Crystal had seen you from the window?" " Oh, my cloak and veil disguised me ; besides, there is a long strip of garden between the house and the road. I could hardly distinguish Crystal, though I could see there was some one in the parlor. And now, what are we to do, Raby ? It will never do to risk a meeting at table d'hote; in a crowded room, Cr> stal might see us, and make her escape before I could manage to intercept her ; and yet, how are we to intrude on Miss Campion? it will be dread- fully awkward for us all." " I must think over it," he answered, quickly. "It iagrowingdark now, Margaret, is it not?" " Yes, dear, do yon feel chillyâ€" shall we go in?" " No, I want you to take me farther ; there la a gate leading to thu road, ia there not ? I should like to go paat the bouse ; it will make it seem more real, Maggie, and you shall describe exactly how it is situated." Margaret complied at once â€" not for worlds would she have hinted that she was already nearly spent with fatigue and want of food. Cathy, the bright little Mulatto chambermaid, would get her a cup uf tea and a sandwich presently. Raby's lover- like wish must be indulged; he wanted to pass the house that held hia treasure. It was bright moonlight by this time and the piazza had been long deserted. The shadows were dark under the avenue, or the road was thickly planted with trees. Jnst as they were nearing the corner house â€" a low white building with a verandah run- ning round it â€" Margaret drew Raby some- what hastily behind a tall maple, for ber keen eyes had caught sight of two figures standing by the gate. As the moon emerged from behind a cloud, she saw Crystal plainly ; Miss Campion was beside her with a black veil thrown over her grey hair. Margaret's whispered " hush!" was a Bofiicient hint to Raby, and be stood motionless. The next moment the voice that was dearer to him than any other soanded close beside himâ€" at least it seemed ao in the clear resonant atmos- phere. " What a delicioua night ; how white that patch of moon -lighted road looks where the trees do not cast their shadows so heavily. I like this (luiet road. I am quite glad the boarding-honse was full I think tbe cottage is much cozier.' ' " Cozier, yes," laughed the other; " bat that is a speech that ought to have como out of my middle-aged lips. What an odd girl you are. Crystal ; you never seem to care for mixing with young people ; and yet it is only natural at yoiur age. Yon are a terrible misanthrope. I do believe yon would rather not dine at the taUe d'hote only yon aro ashamed to say so." " I have no right to inflict my misan- thropy on you, Misa Campion ; as it is, you are far too indulgent to my moroae tnoods." " Morose fid^^^cka," was the ener^'etio rS^lyT" " But fl^W, I flo like young people to enjoy themaelvea like young people. Why, if I had your yonth and good looks ; well," â€" with a change of tone sufhcieotly explicit^" it is no use trying to make you conceited ; and yet that handsome yocng American â€" wasn't he a colonel? â€"tried to make himself as pleasant as he could." "Did be?" was the somewhat indifferent answer; at which Miss Campion shook her head in an exasperated way. " Oh, it is no use talking to you," with good-natured impatience. "Unglish or American; old, ugly, or handsome; they are all tho same to you ; and of course, by the natural laws of contradiction, the absurd creatures aro all bent on making yon fall in love with them. Now that colonel. Crystal, I can't think what fault you could find with him ; he was manly, gentlemanly, and as good looking as a man ought to be." " I do not care for good looking men." " Or for plain ones either, my dear. I expect you are romantic, Crystal, and have an ideal of your own." " And if I answer, yes," returned the girl, quickly, " will you leave off teasing mo about all those stupid men. If you knew how 1 hata it â€" how I despise thecQ aU." " All but the ideal," observed Miss Cam- pion, archly ; but she took the girl's band in here, and the ahrewd, clever faoe soft- ened. " You must forgive an impertiaent old maid, my dear. Perhaps she had ber story too, who knows. And so you have your ideal, my poor, dear child ; and the ideal has not made you a happy woman- It never does," in a low voice. " Dear Misa Campion," returned ('rys- tal, with a bluali ; " ii I am unhappy, ii is only through my own fault ; no one else is to blame, andâ€" and â€" it is not as you think. It is true I once knew a good man, who has made every other man seem puny and insignificant beside him ; but that is becauHO he was so good, and there was no other reason." " No other reason, except your love for him," observed the elder woman, stroking her hand gently. "I have long suspected this, my dear." " Oh, you must not talk so," answered Crystal, in a tone of poignant distress ; " you do not know, you cannot understand. Ob, it is all so sad. I owe him everything. My ideal, oh yes ; whom have I ever seen who could compare with himâ€" so strong, so gentle, so fofgiving ? Oh, you must never let me talk of him ; it breaks my heart." "Come away, Margaret," whisiiered Raby, hoarsely, in her ear. "I have no right to hear this ; it is betraying my dar- ling's confldonoe. Take me away, for I cannot trust myself another moment; and it is late>â€" too late to speak to her to- night." (To be continued. I Mrs. Geo. Harvey, Port Huron, wife of Orand Trunk Condnctor Harvey, took an overdose of laudanum on Wednesday night and died on Friday. She waa in the habit of taking tbe drag to make her sloep, and when discovered wn.s beyond help.