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w . E i f a. l ,- 04““ . .. NJ”, «FWWA’M; 1. 2a»... «a ..»q.a»uu.-,y. v. .. , N“; v .< ... :74“st ~\rvn'uff'.n4urv , unver- ,, a...» p... Forâ€"“The Family Name ; 03, THE GUETY our: DISCOVERED. CHAPTER ILâ€"Ar ms Vicmcs. It was the unfortunate vicar of Yewle whowas hiding like a thief in his own gar- den that night; and it was well that Gray did not see or recognise him. When Gray had opened tho gate and en- tered the little lawn in front of the Vicarage, he was arrested by something he saw im- mediately before him. The blinds were not down in the window of the drawing-room in front of him, and he couldsee the occupants of the room. Mrs. King half reclined on a couch, in conversation with a gentleman, who sat facing the window ; Agnes sat on a footle near her mother with her head bent over some needlework, listening but not looking up. It was neither the mother nor the daughter who arrested the attention of Francis Gray, and he t him stand- ing on the lawn for clip a quar- ter of an hour; it was eir visitor. This was a man of about thirty-five, but so fair that he might have passed for ten years less. He had very fine auburn hair, a neatly- trimmed moustache and heard of the same colourâ€"the latter pointedâ€"and gentle blue eyes like a woman s. He was in every way a handsome, but by nomeans, an effeminateâ€" looking man, and his voice was low and soft in keeping with his looks. Francis Gray knew well who the visitor was, and the long gaze which he fixed on the man’s face expressed no resentment of his presence there. Gray was absorbedin quite another line of thought, awakened by his thussuddenly coming on Richard King’s face with the lamp-light falling full upon it. Nobody could help being struck by Richard Kin ’s resemblance to his unfortunate cous- in, t e vicar of Yewle; and if he were only attired in clerical costume as he sat at that table, even Rowan King, suddenly coming upon the scene, as Gray did that night, mi ht have-taken the man to be hisbrother. utterly, Richard King had become a fre- quent visitor at the Vicarageâ€"frequent, that is, for a man who resided twelve miles off and had his business to attend to during the day. At first he came to beg Mrs. King and A es to visit his mother, who, from bodily in rmity, was unable to make the invitation in person. But Rowan King’s wish was law at the Vicarage, and Rowan King wished his brother’s wife and daughter to remain there. Otherwise, it is robsble Mrs. Kin would have gone to Souc ester, for Richer King exercised over her a persuasive influ- ence. He was so like her poor husbandâ€"in looks, in voice, even in his manner of sayin or doing the most trifling thingsâ€"that she was always unfoignedly glad when he came to Yewle. Poor Mrs. King was blind to one thing, which her daughter, without disclosin her knowledge, saw as clearly as daylight. ich- ard King admired Agnes ; whether he loved her, or was on the way to it, even Agnes herself could not discover. But he came to chle to see Agnes rather than her mother, though he might havu another rea- son as well for riding those twelvez miles so frequently. Once a. week at; least he came to the Vicarage. Agnes,i however, possessed enough of the character- istic reserve of her father’srace to be able to retain perfect control of her sentiments, and not even her mother sus ected the na- ture of her attitude towards ichard King. It is scarcel necessary to add that he did not know it imself. l “ A message?" " Just to tell you the nature of the ar- rangements which he has in view whenâ€"- when Mr. King comes out, in a ear or so. He thinks you ought to know. fr. Rowan says it will be impossible for his brother to remain in this countryâ€"that he must emigrate, and take a new nameâ€"and he has a sum of twenty thougand pounds to give you before you go. That’s all." Poor Mrs. King, in looking forward to her husband’s release, had never given a thought to any circumstance associated with the termination of his punishment beyond his restoration to herself. She had not even reflected on the probable necessity of vacating the house she lived in. This practical arrangement of Rowan Kin , generous as it was, brought the a proac ' g situation in full force upon herâ€" rought her face to face for the first time with the cruel fact that the stain was upon them for life, and could only be hidden by a disguise and amongststrangers. After staring at the young man for the space of a minute, the poor woman turned her face down on the back of the couch and burst into bitter tearsâ€"bitter tears of shame and grief. Gray was deeply distressed, and knew not what to do. In his embarrassment he did the best thing-that is, he did nothing, and allowed the lady to have her cry out. After this, she was more composed and, as her train of thought showed, more hopeful. “ No one who knows or ever knew my husband,” she urged, ‘ ‘believes that he did that wicked and shameful thing. Would it not be an acknowledgment of his guilt, then, if he were to flee the country ? Surely, sure- 1 , Heaven is too 'ust to allow an innocent servant to lie un er the shame of smoke. charge 1” “ Alas, Mrs. King, all that could be done has been done. Mr. Rowan spared no ex- cnse to establish your husband’s innocence. f course we all know he is innocent ; but the world is very hard in its judge- ments.” She was silent for a while, rocking to and fro with her hands clasped. At length she said : “ Rowan King is the best of men, Mr Gray. Give him my grateful thanks. But 011, tell him that I pray and hope and believe that, in the mercy of God, before another year is over my husband’s innocence will be proved to all the world i” “ I pray Heaven it may, Mrs King,” an- swere the young man reverently. Just then the conversation was interrupt- d by t he sudden reappearance of Agnes at the door in a state of deep agitation. “ Mother, mother,mother l” she cried, in a voice of suppressed pain and excitement, “ come with me at once 1” Gray, approaching her. She raised both hands before her face and almost angiin re elled him. “ Go away, go away i” she said. “ Go home from here, at once 1” “Very well, Agnesâ€"goodnight,” he said, amazed rather than offended. She made no reply, and seemed not to notice him further; but taking her mother by the band led her from the room, leaving him alone. He took his hat and left the house, wondering what it all meant, and doubtful whether he was doing right in‘ ? obeying the girl’s commands. But there had been that in her voice and look which com- One circumstance aided ' Agnes Kin in Pened him to ObeY- thus disguising her sentiments. The she. ow of her father’s shame had taken all the colour out of the girl’s life, and wrapt her in a silent and subdued existence, into the; secret emotions of which not even her mother’s e e was able to penetrate. Francis Breathing quickly, apparently unable to speak, Agnes led her mother from the room by the hand, and down the passage to the door of her father‘s studyâ€"a room which, even to a half-finished sermon on the table, lhad been religiously kept as he left it the Gray love her with all his heart, and forum“ time he WM there- She Stopped all? some years had been almost her dail com- the door and looked in her mother’s face. panion; but if he paused to ask imself [ “He bade "18 “Ob ‘50 tell You: mamml‘u but? seriously the uestion, he had not the faint- I must,” Agnes said in a low voice. “ Papa est sign to i ehim towardsa discover of is in the Study. He Wantfi You? but I am the state 0 her feelings towards him. ad not to 09m inpmg. Dear mamma. you are it not been for her father's misfortune, no “0‘7 “fr “1‘1 0f mm? doubt it would have been otherwise. Richard King suddenly rose to go, andGray stepped back among the shrubs tolet himpass out. Once, the young man turned, with’ l a slight start, fancying passed out into the road ; and after a few minutes interval, Gray went up to the door ' and rang the bell. Gray was a irivileged visitor at the Vicarage, and walked drawing room without any formality. He was always welcome, and was not prone to occasion MraKing extended her hand to him but Agnes merely raised her eyes as high as usual; his waistcoat, and slightly in- fear: her face had turned white, an she shrank back from the door. It was not fear e had heard a heavy danger associated with his presence in the breathing a few feet behind him, Listening, : house, which she had no power to analyse. he heard nothing now except the rustle ofl the leaves in the night-air. Richard King Truly Mrs. King looked like one in rent of her husband, but fear of some vague Her first terrifying thought was that he had escaped from prison. His appearance when she entered the study did not remove this a prehension. He was not dressed like a c or yman, but more liken. groom. The short- intothe cut air, the stubbly growth of beard, the lworn face, and an unsettled gleam in his l eyes, caused the lad to stop short, in doubt criticise his reception. On the present} * that she flew to his breast and hid her face and astonishment. t was not until he spoke with sobs and tears. “Oh Charlie, Charlie, Charlie l” she mur- clining her head, went on with ’her work as muted ; and then there was a long silence. before. “Mr. Richard has just left us,” said Mrs. Kin . “I wish he lived nearer ; and it is so goo of him to ride this ion way as often as he does. But I do wish he he reminds me so much, in a number of ways, of my husband.” “Mr.Richard’s resemblance to Mr.ng is very remarkable indeed," said Gray, some- what l . “ We ehim so much. Agnes and I,” He led her to a chairâ€"his own chair in the old happy daysâ€"and made her sit in it. “ Is it over, Charlie ‘lâ€"I mean your”â€" “ Imprisonment ? Yes, it is over now, I lived nearer ; l suppose. I don’t clearly know why I came here, I have walked all the way from Port- land ;and to avoid the shame of being re- ; cognised, I must be gone again before mid- h H She only caught that part of his speech which referred to the journey from Portland Mrs. King was continuing, when her daugh- and rose at once, with a woman’s first soli- ter stood up, kissed her, and said : “ Good- citude, to bring him food and refreshment. night, mamma;Ihavca headacheâ€"Good Whilst doing this she thought of what he night, Frank " “Off already!" said the yo man, a “Now, Char said about gloin away before midnight. ie,’ she said, placin the thin little blankly. What he had in "a mind on the table, “ sit in your own c ° whi e to say could not be said tonight. She mere- you eat and drink." 1‘ answered “Yes” without turning her ace toward: him, and left the room. “It is not a headache,”observed Mrs. King aoftl . "I know how much we can trust lPrank t as though you were my son and her ,-â€"-he moved uneasil at you. “No Florence; I shall never sit there again," he said sadly. “ Why slogans. go, Charlie! As you are free now, you not stay at home with usthe cameos before! Ah, darling, we lhavemissed yousosorely; and all Will be thisâ€"“ and I willtell you what has ta en 3 so gladtosee you againâ€"your brother Row- placethlsevening. Mr. Richarth askedianmostofall,nextto m consent to his Agneshis wife, nioytwithetauding what has happened 1” . Gray's was taken away for a min- God, who is just and merciful,"she went on, speakins rapidly, “ will not sufi'er the cloud to rest upon you for long. Every day that a . ate. and , rather at random than from dawns may bring to as f of your in- deliberation, he put the question : “ Has he coaches, Some day it meâ€"â€"" ' asked Agnes?” “ No ; butI thinksheisaware ofit. Girls always know when such things are . If it were nothing eke, Agnes could not "said herhushand in shard voice she had never heard from him before, " you know not what you say. I cannot stay here;Ican_no l, performthefunc- " feeling taful to him. It is not about tionaof the ministry. tdo thescelothes Ag am doubtful;Iam afraid Mr. mean? ThatIamanuafrockedpriest. nos .Remwillheopposedtoit.” What doesm presence here tonight mean! " He certainlywill,” replied Gray, with Simply that am a ticket-ones" convict, theemphldsdoonviaion. " Hewxllneveri bound toreportmyself, like other released consenttoit. And hobs. sent metoyou meme-solvnishkhxinsi’ . Q felons, to the police, so that they may keep a constant eye upon me. I have no right in this house, for which reason I have to creep The captain was already drawing on his " Msry,"he said, almost reproach- “ But the house is Bowen’s; he will give fully, “ you cannot really imagine that I it to nobody else.” she said, the tears hang “ Oh Charlie, 'do not go away :or if you’do, let us come with “ No, Florence ; that cannot be. The with you to help you bestI can do for you and A â€"â€"â€"â€"- m*-~~.flâ€"-. -.. in under mver of darkness." boots. hesitate ‘ttle' cue absence, and I not the trial." _ “0h,Iwillrunthe risk;1willrunthe My presence we d only bhght risk, Heaven bless you, Robert 2“ And, as her husband turned out into the driftin snow, the rudge to go! My darling, I use I fear that our beloved may depart during in ing in her eyes. ’l as now is to leave you. both your lives, especially hers. I must go, and go alone." r mother once more resum Then she eagerly, but not without a good he:- watch y the bedside of her dyin dealof hidden grief and shame, told him of “ No change, Anna?” she whispers to her the arrangement which generous Rowan sister-indaw, who had been bending down King had in viewâ€"that of giving his unfor- tunate brother twenty thousand leave the country ed name in another land. child. over the small pale face. P011363 to Miss Cameron only shook her head in re ply, as she slowly left the room and began to . pace the long corridor which led from the “To whatever land Ipwent, my shame sick chamber to the drawin W03“ find mé (mt- NO {I Will not accept his still seemed the house over w ich the angel 0501* 30mm 5113“ be rid Of 1116 011 easier of death was evidently hovering lnotasound was to be heard either from the kitchen be- neath, where old Nannie sat, her apron over her head, bewailing the. approaching death yoss his chest, and a. darkness set. of “ her bonnie wee lamb," or from the his face that indicated the chamber overhead where the weary young of a fiercer moodâ€"a. mood such as nurse-maid had been sent to rest, and where never had been seen upon him in the old another Child, & VlSitOI‘ in the fan‘ilys WG-5 years of unmerited 3150 “Sleep. with, and takeanassum- room. How terms. I shall go alone.” \Vhile his wife silently wept, he strode up and down the room with his arms folded tightly ac tling d accession own on days. But four dire punishment and disgrace are a terrible test, and the unfortunate vicar did not come out fro: t0 and fro. of it unscathed. “ Could a. greater wrong be done to an man than that which has been donate ms! . had not deserved itat anyman’shands. Inevcr Was Stealing over the deal‘ little knowingly injured a fellow-creature even wasI selected for such mis- the man thatwrongedmd cannot be long now,” the young lady Miss Cameron paced the corridor to and occasionally looking in upon the sick room, just as her brother had done ; but there was no change there, unless a change for the worse. A dull shade f'” ace, while the breathing was fast becoming more re pid painful. and The hall clock struck 2. “They in thought. “Why fortunc?Florence, will never forgive, -â€" the’man that wronged us I to follow until I have overtaken and ed him.â€"I only wish,” he a his hands above his head, power to punish him as he has There needs to be a the grave, to balance the evils that men do in this life l" mur- er the “ But, good l” not even on my deathbed mured to herself, as she leaned 0V will never cease staircase gazing into the hall below. I fear no doctor can do any dded raising both Here Miss Cameron turned sharply round “ that I had she and looked inquirineg toward the staircase punished me: which led to the upper chambers. With it beyond slow, hesitating step some one was apparen- try coming down, but there was no one up- young nurscmaid. want at this hour?" said the .“ Oh, Ido hope that Punish- ah l place of sorroxr stairs save the “Oh Charlie ! do not talk that way,” she What can Patty young lady to herself. ” the child upstairs is no till ! but I must warn Patty to make no noise. Anna. Cameron stood at the foot ht over 9,11 of the staircase ready to stay Patty’s some- k what heavy steps, as soon as she reached the bend and became visible to those he- “ \Vhy, pleaded. “ At my solitar he went on, not perhaps not hearing it, “ in my unlighted cell, I have than that matter, as I had not been a le to thin bofore I was convicted. A light fell upon me that will bring me to the face of the 10W- doer. If there is justice under heaven, work in the quarries, ‘the interruption, . the solitude of corridor, And crossing the ceding But Patty never whatever wes might he the reason, she seemed to have He changed her mind, for just as she must have bed the bend, there was a hesitatin pause, the footsteps seemed to reascend, an presently all was still. wrong appeared ; that man shall pay the debt that he 0 me, yes, to the uttcrmost farthing l thinks, perhaps, that the mild p an enemy to be afraid ofâ€"but that has been born in me since which will cause his face to blenche and his heart to quail ivhen he meets thought. me again.” “ Vengeance is Mine. saith the Lord, poor terrified wife ventured to say. “ It is not vengeanca that I claim, justice,” bc‘replied. with a swordâ€"â€"that is my right, will haveâ€"But enough of this in an altered voice ; “ it draws near nu night and I must go.” _ _ At his request his daughter was brought Visit ' Placing his hands upon their heads, he ed, gazed into their faces for the sp utc without speaking. vulsive movement in his throat, he turne his face upwards ‘and said enough to be heard by them: bless-and keep you, and preserv harm.” _ \Vhile their eyes were blinded by tears, he moved quickly to the door passed out. Perhaps the first night they in that house, now four years b been so laden with grief to the mother on daughter as the present one. need tonnalyse the cause of their tears and heavy hearts, while the thought of emu ; the husband and father, a wandering and case a. few minutes ago. homeless outcast, was ever present to them. Want?" Emly next morning Mrs. King was start.- led from her, first troubled slumber by a knocking at the back door below. Quickly throwing on a dressing-gown, and full of the thought of her husband, she ran down and It was one of the gardeners bite and scared, with the ed, “ Patty, arson is not reac “How very odd l” Anna “but 1 must goand see if the And lighting a to er, she ” the quickly proceed upstairs. The first iscovery . she made was that she need not how carried but up a taper for a. lamp z" .s, burning on the It was a square landingplacc and that I off which three doors lcdto three apartments, ” he added, two of those being locked, and the keys in d- Capt. Cameron’s possession, while the third room was occupied by Patty and the child Miss Cameron cautiously enter- it in darkness, carried One child is ill. ” “Justice that smitcs landing above. and, finding the lamp and looked about her. glance at the child’s cotshowed that thelittle asleep. ,And what of Patty. \Vell, the weary young girl lay on her back “ The Lord herlong-dranm breathing affording c that she, too, was in the land of ‘ But Anna Cameron felt that some their explanation must be forthcoming. “Patty and she whispered, gcntly shaking the shoulder. “Patty, wake up,” and the nurse spent alone maidwith a sudden startsat upi lick, had not ing apprehensivcly at the young lady. 0h. (1 Miss Anna,” she said, “ what is it? Is little There is no Missic worse ‘2" “ She is very poorly,” replied Miss Cam- “ but, Patty, I heard you on the stair- VVhat 'did you “ Agnes! what is wrong '2” exclaimed, ace of a. min- in Then, after a. con- d one was soundly , schrCely loud omplete e you from all el'ideuce I dreams. girl’s n bed, look- pitcous But Patty altogether denied that she had left the room. “ She had never been out of bed,” she said. “ Very strange, indeed,” murmured Miss Anna ; then remembering the somewhat heavy tread on the stairs, she suddenly ask- where are your shoes ‘2” “ There,”rcplied the astonished girl,point- to a pair of felt slippers. at it had not been felt slippers which had descended the stairâ€"of that Miss Cameron felt perfectly sure. “ Imcau your we. are they?” _ “At the kitchen fire,MissAnna. I got them wet' in the snow.” Anna. paused, not knowing very well what to ask next,though perfectly convinced that here was room for explanations somewhere. But at this moment she was hastily sum- It was Mrs. Cameron’s voice. “Anna. ! Anna 1" she cried, in sharp yet suppressed tones, “ come downstairs, nick, quick I” Anna’s heart died within her. h had the supreme, moment come at last? Must she nerve herself to see the little one pass away (perhaps after a painful aim to the unseen-world? But as she ran ht of her sister’s face thrilled opened the door. from the Hall, w horrible news that Rowan King had been murdered during the night. (TO BE CONTINUED.) iui The Footsteps oaths Stair. It was Christmas eve. The clock in the hall had just struck the midnight hour, as Capt. Cameron,.dropping the magazine which he had been vainly attempting to read, lay back on his chair and and bitter musings. lkingshoes, Patty. Where ave himself ewes alone in his t wife’s'drawin'g room, which had been beau- tifully decorated with everygreens, in antici- pation of his little \Vinifrcd’s birthday party; but alas! no bright-faced little visitors had made their appearance that evening, the house had remained dark and silent, for his little daughter, the sole darling of his heart, lay in an adjoining chamber apparently at the Capt. Cameron loved his born daughter with an intense affection ;still he could not have done what his wife was . hildâ€"he could not have 310'! F001“, and witness memf: he?!) to and joy. am certain that my little' h Oh, the good God has heard our prayers l" But Anna grasped her hand. ” she said, imploringly, “ do not be I fear thatâ€"” But Mrs. Cameron had'already up to and moned downstairs. gle) oint of death. own rail little Indian smirs'the sig . her With astonishment. Mrs. Cameron stoodrat the door of the her eyes glittering with excite- ale features lighted up with hope ‘* Oh, Anna,” she whisp 'darlihg is better now doing for the c stood to watch the last hours, which he had no power to allevia duty always fall ose fecbler strengt l ‘ I .7 sufferings “ed- â€"this peculiarly tryin the lot of women, w seems to rise tothe occasion, and to hear her through trials from which her more Mary, orbust companion invariably shrinks. It was too so now. Mrs. Cameron hung in speechless gchild, while the father, into the room where lay at his head inside awake and calm, the soft dark eyes trav- after reading the elling round the room as though in search of f his wife’s face, he'some beloved face, a faint flush lighting up the baby s to “ Dcar sanguine. drawn her agony over her dyin the little patient no less loving, could only the door occasionally, hopeless exp would again, return to the drawing there to await the final agonizing moment. He had again taken up 9-D p ression 0 features. At this moment little Winnie caught sight his magazine, and of her mother's face and smiled, while the was endeavoring to fix his attention upon it, parched lips ope when a soft footfall on the ca him to turn round. It was his wife, who, folding her arms around him, head fall upo room, and for a moment to whisper rpet caused the one word “ mother.” The joy was too let her weary who had scarcely n his shoulder. Capt. Cameron voice again. drew her ently down on the couch by hat is it, my love 2” he said. “Our way little Winnie, is sheâ€"is there any chan “ 0h, Robert,” walled the “she is sinking ! I mnnot but see it ; Anna re sees it too. Robert, you must go once more for Dr. Scott.” Her husband hesitated. said, “ do you remember what he said when and mother he was here at 8 o’clock 2~he could give us the first stanza had ary ; he said that a few hours had fallen into acalm and deep sh wonl see the end! My own love, I fear The two that God is calling u little lamb to his 1: for Mrs. Cameron, ped to hear that dear She burst into tears, and crept his behind the curtain, where she could give to her emotion unseen, while Anna, 8 l” with a warning glance at her, sister, went er, , softly up to the childand administered some viving nourishment. “ Winnie will go to sleep now,” she whis- pered, “while auntie sings had the little side. “ and me. And poor mot to her i" “ My dear,” he “ Yes,” si girl, “ auntie th sin to Winnie ;” but, ere got throu h, she no ho 1m r. sisters with beaming eyes had other’s hand, when the hall . r was heard to' open, and suppressed But hiswxfe had burst into a passion of voices announced the arrival of Capt. Cam- “RObfift." 311° mulled. “if you emu with the medical attendant. value my life, my reason, on will indulge me in this. I grieve to on such a wild night II this, bu Winnie’e sake l" n ustogive up our arcarel” pad each m3. “Don't Wake the child ; quite unnecessary so far to reuse her,” said the doctor, little down to listen to the breathin , while he , just touched the little hand. “ ostextm outo‘go ashestooped tâ€"or .. e... .. «New.ua-‘wmc‘wxnmmwuuhn, ordinary case," he said almoatinaii ‘ saw anything like it; ‘ t hounago I could have sworn that did was dying, at; flowâ€"mdoubtedlfi' she has}:\got the - . - ":11 1,! Oh, the revulsion of feeling from cold d ' to bright, smiling hope l Every mo er canimagine it'for exself gtherefore, upon the happy scene w ich followed we need not enlarge. Suffice it to say that tears ofljx were shed that night. and heartfelt g1 sgiving went up to their Father in > a . , > . '1 ’. At 7 o‘clock Anna crept noiselessly down stairs to the kitchen, where old Nannie we endeavoring to light the fire. “ You have heard the blessed news Nan nie 2" said the young lady. " Our dear little Winnie hasbeeu iven back to us almost from the gates of oath l” “ Yes, Miss Anna,” replied the old W man, “ God has been to us, indeed." “ But you have not card the strange ad. venturerwhich befall me durin the night," continued Miss Cameron; and t ereupon she related her talk with Patty about coming down stairs. The old woman listened with kindling eyes. She was a Highlander, and deeply imbued with the superstition of her coun- ry. “ And can ye not read the riddle, Miss Anna 2” she cried. “ Are ye so blind that ye do not see! Did the child not take the turn as the mysterious steps went up the stair? Miss Anna, these steps were never taken by Patty. My clear, it was the Angel of Death coming down for his prey, but bid- den back by the Angel of Life 1” Anna almost shu dered at these words, for the old woman s oke as one inspired. Then she recovered erself, and a sli ht smile played round the corners of ior mouth. Old Nannie saw the smile. “ Oh, Miss Anna l” she cried, “do not rank yourself among the scofl‘mg ones. They never get the blessing ;oh, believe it, my dear 1" Anna kissed the old woman (she had been her nurse in bygone days). “I am notau unbeliever, Nannie,” she gently said; “ I believe in God and in our dear loving Sav- iour, but as to what you as. about the foot- steps on the stairs, well, annie, you good old dear, we won’t talk about it. We are both a eed in being deeply thankful to God for all is goodness.” . Nevertheless, as the young lady slowly walked upstairs she pondered this question in her mind: “Can it be possible that Patty walks inhcr sleep ‘l for, if not, then those were the footsteps on the stair ‘2" .___._.â€"___ Some Curious Superstitions. M any of the old English customs connect- ed with the seasons are still observed in Somersetshire, says Cassell’s Magazine. In some parts on Christmas Eve, after burning an ashen fagot, the whole family adjourus to the orchard, carrying a hot cake and a mug of cider or ale us an offering to the best apple tree, reminding us of the Nor. wegiun offering of cake and ale made at Christmas to propitiate the spirits of the Flords. A curious custom was, I have been told, observed at Christmas until rccentl at North Curry,in memory of King John. feast was held, the chief dish being: :1 huge mince pic, bearing a rude effigy of tho kin 1, two candles, each weighing one pound, ware linhted, amid rest ceremony, and while they burned, gbut no longer, the guests were allowed and encouraged to drink as much stron ale as they desired; as soon as the candfias went out the feast terminated. Anotherpractice still in use is “ opening the Bible.” This is done at Christmas, or on New Year’s Day, with great solemnity, after breakfast. The Holy Book is laid un- opened on the table, and those who wish to consult it open it in succession at random and in perfect silence ;the cuquirer places his finger on any verse contained in the two open pages, but without secin its contents. The verse is then read alou , and from it the assembly draw their conclusions or uid- aucc for the coming year. On Shrovc ' ‘ucs- day, pancakes, of course, as in many other parts of England, are still universally eaten, and in some places boys go round the vil- lages singingâ€" “ Ti crt -ti ert toe. legiiic gpa‘ifdakd and then I'll go," and if this request is not acceded to, a large stone isfastencd to the handle of the door. Easter and May Days have always been held as rent festivals in Somersctshirc. A benutifu custom is still kept up in some placeson Easter Day ;the whole village rises early, and, going to the top of the nearest hill, waits fcr'the rising of the sunâ€"this be~ ing believed to procure prosperity in their homes till Easter Day comes round again. Among Inany of the country people May- dew is believed to be a potent remedy in disease. I have heard of an old woman who always recommended for a weakly Child that it should be drawn along the grass wet with Maydcw three times runningâ€"on the let, the 2nd and the 3rd of his. «and that great benefit would be sure to fo low. Young girls are also recommended to wash their faces in Maydew to improve and preserve their com lexions. Swellings of various kinds mav is cured by a similara plication; but in such cases. if the patient 8 a man. the dew must be taken from the grave of the last young woman buried ; i. it be a woman, from the grave of the last young man. The Pashlonable Handkerchief. The maiden fair of olden time who used to wave her white handkerchief to the knight departing to fight her battles would open her eyes Very wide if she could see the handkerchief of today. The most fashionable are made of crops lines, with an embroidered edge and in every color imaginable, from brilliant scarlet to ale nile green, and from jet black to clearw to. Some very unique effects are producedby contrasts of color. The black handkerchief is usually a square of silk muslin, with a frill of fine black lace about it. Any 1girlcau easily make one of these for horse . For everyday use the‘ white handkerchief of lawn, with a narrow hemstitched border, a very narrowonc, and a fine frill of laceâ€"Valencicnncsâ€"uot half an inch wide, aboutit is preferred. Elabor» ate monograms are no longer fancied, hut in- stead the initials of the owner in small let. tors, and in what is known as running fashions, are chosen. ' A Indy, who had taken several equestrian leswns,askedherinstrucim onedayâ€"“ Well, Mr. I’ummell, have I made good regress?” “Well, I can't ea tima’am,"saidl t ain‘ttrg‘o; tor, “u'ow you as worry we as y you falls 06’, ma’am a deal more gracefullf as wet you did at first 1" an......»..m.wa.,...,vw h 237 w“ . ' . WIMMWA or. ‘W ‘1‘"? “five? flm ., I. . ., . ._..‘._ . _ was.“ 'A-__-M..~.M