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“ Bmefi and oils no in the luture," he replied. " Mfi works at present merely lane to embol ah the ephemeral literature on which yo-u. expend your u'lonthlyfhilling 6; 0512's.” Sixpofioo. Iaurtéd final]; a he loot o tho udder. but only utter “ You don't look much like quill-pens and red-ruled lodgers," observed Glcncairn. good humoredly regarding the young man's attire. Duke‘s coat was a loose velvet one; his collar was sufficiently low and his tie sufficiently neglige to look artistic; he was probably well aware that a certain amount of mgh'ge suited his picturesque style; and the hat. which on entering the room he had hung up on one of the page for that pur- pose rovided. was a soft slouched felt. not unau table to the stage brigand. “ No; my weapon is the pencil, and not‘ the uill. I rejoice to say." ; H? should have thought it was the brush." suggested Luli. to whom a pencil did not appear_an.artistic implement. She had been pretty. as well as fair-com- plexioned. golden-haired children with no positive disfigurement are pretty; she was now really beautiful. She had grown tall and very sli ht; indeed the slightness of her figure an the pure transparent pink and white of her com lexion indicated that her health was proba ly not robust. Her hair was a shade darker than it used to be, but still was of a golden tint. too warm for flaxen, too bright for yellow. without a trace of auburn in all its hues. pure ripe gold in the light. and richly embrowned in the shadows. Her features were regular; her small delicate face was of an oval shape. and her eyesâ€"were those large. soit‘ eyes blue or gray? Duke Mayburne could not solve that point when he came to notice them; they seemed to him Eyes too expressive to be blue, Too lovely to be grnvl He manmuvrod successiuuy to sit next to Luli at dinner. naturally deemingit pleasant to sit by one of the prettiest girls at the table with whom he suddenly found him- eelfgu delightfully friendly terms. It was perhaps not a matter of surprise that Luli shou d have known Duke May- burne before he recognized her. He was scarcely changed at all; he had grown ‘a light moustache; he was a handsome man instead of a handsome boy; he was broader of shoulder and more self-possessed of manner and polished of accent; but in the face he was singularly little altered. The years that had ripened Luli from the child to the girlâ€"for you could hardly call that fair, slight, fresh. frank. light-hearted crea-‘ ture a woman yetâ€"had altered her far more. andimproyed as much as theyhad changed. 1 “L_ “And out outcomic pictures for, and give pu'Bpies to," interposed Luli merrily. he dinner bell now clanged out a. deaf- enin summons. and the three went in toget er m the table-d’hote. talking all the wgy. “I appeal to you, Mr. Glenoairn, as to whether there is any marvel in my remiss- ness :6 recognizing in this lady the child I used to_pla.y withâ€"f" , “Papal who is this ?" said Luli, turning with a bright smile to Glenoairn, who just then made his appearance on the scene. The recognition of the two men, being assisted by this hint, was immediateâ€" probably would have been immediate without the hint. They grasped hands gladly. heartil ; and their meeting was cordial enoug to delight Luli. who exclaimed with_play_'il_ll reproach. “And, papa, lie aidn’t imow the a bit at first!" “Luliâ€"It is Luli Glenceirnl” and he seized her hand with a delighted smile, “You must forgive me that. for the moment Iwas not sure it; was you; you were a child, you know, and nowâ€"you are so grown. soâ€"â€"" Duke cast an eloquent look upon her face that finished his sentence satisfecmrily. “I need not ask how you are. but I've got to ask how you have been, and what has become of you all these years." Duke bowed politely, but puzzled. and was about to drop a mild hint that he should like to be enlightened as to the name of his fair acquaintance. when suddenly the recollection flashed upon him. “You here? Why y, who would have thought of meeting you ?" 'It was at Etretat they met, towhich peaceful little village the Glencairns, tired of the incessant hustle and gayety of its brilliant neighbor Trouvilleâ€"a veritable Paris-sur-Merâ€"had come for quiet and rest. It was just before the table-d’hote dinner. when the summoning bell was momentarily expected to ring. that Duke Mayburne was lounging in the courtyard of the Hotel Blanquet. being one of astraggling and aimless group who were standing about in varicus attitudes of placid do-nothing- ness, watching a white pony of rebellious inclinations who refused to go the way he should go. Duke Mayburne was standing as aimlessly, and regarding the pony aud‘ chaise as neutrally, as the rest of the little assembly, when hap ening to turn his head, he found himset face to face with Luli Glencairn, though at the first glance he did not recognize her. and only won- dered “ why that pretty girl was staring at him." She had remembered him instantly, and her gaze of surprised recognition warmed into a pleased and welcoming smile. as she said frankly, _ The Glenoalrns lived abroad for several years.now taking a villa or a suit of apart- ments for the season 0! the year. now wandering from hotel to “pension," and “pension"to “furnished flat;" they aid occasional visits to England. but t ese visits were few and brief; and Luli lost sight of almost all the acquaintances and friends of her childhood. The Cravens, who had been to her only casual friends ofa few weeks. and whose acquaintance with Glenoairn had begun by a mere chance ‘ meeting in a train, were. oddly enough. the friends they saw most of. The Cravens liked the Gleucairns. and always sought them out when the former were in Paris or the latter in London. Kate Craven and Luli kept up a correspondence, and thus were always aware of each others where- abouts. 0! other friends. Duke Mayburne included, Luli soon quite lost the trace; and it was only chance at last that threw Duke Mayburne across her path again some seven or eight years after they had drifted apart. LULI: Life’s Mysteriv. 80150 old entlemen marched solemnly down and too of! their spectacles and gave them into the cure of friends, and stood on the brink and shouted tor a bathing men to come and lead them forth to the combat with the waves; other old gentlemen with silvery beards ran 1: the plank with the setivit of youth sn precipitated them- selves heed-flret into ten feet of water. Luli Glencslrn was highly amused; and she and Duke Msyhurne chettered and laughed. in occasionally nnohsriteble merri- ment. while Glenosirn. with a huge umbrella over his head to kee the sun ofl‘, pored over s book of trsve s, and occasionally Those bathers who were habituated to the manners and customs of the place walked leisurely and coolly down the beach in their various costumes dc bain, pausing now and then to address a word or two to their friends on the way. Those whose first venture it was wrapped their cloaks closely about them. and hastened along, looking half ashamed of themselves. People who were vain of their figures stood posed in elegant attitudes on the diving-plank before leaping ; people who had no cause for vanity plunged in with haste and hurry. Young girls with white prignoirs robed loosely round them. tripped daintily down to the water's edge, and dropping the snowy wrappers and stepping orth graceful and pretty in their neat Bloomer-like costumes, ran lightly _into the waves. The sea inshore was green as emerald and clear as glass; the very pebbles could be counted through the transparent waves beyond the white ribbon of surf that outlined the curving shore. Further out at sea, the green was dashed with dark splashes of calm deep purple; and green and purple toward the horizon melted into a line of vivid blue. Between the sunset and the see, have watched one hour of love with me. â€"Swmuumm. It was on the beach that the Glencairns encountered Duke Mayburne next. Luli and her father were sitting watching the bathers. when the young artist. who had evidently been looking for them. came up and joined their group. They had been fortunate enough to secure two of the curious little wooden chairs which Etretat generously provides (gratis!) for its visitors; and as there was not a vacant chair to be found near, Duke proceeded to stretch himselfon the beach at theirfeet. cheerfully regardless of the roughness of the stones.‘ It was a fine morning,and all Etretat. that is to say, all the visitors and summer residents. were out on the beach. haltto bathe, and the other half to look on at the bathing. _ , .4 But; en a. first' eoqualntunce he win as a. rule regarded merely in the light of a. highly successful specimen of masculine beauty. These were lair samples of the class of remarks that were always the first to be made about Duke Mayburne. Everybody who spoke of him at all spoke first of his appearanceâ€"as the exception, to criticise, â€"â€"â€"as the rule to admire. He paid the pen- alty of being like a piece of living sculpture, and looking as if he had been modeled from the antique, by being always talked about as if he were only a fine specimen of animal nature, admirably bred to carry off the prize at a show of beautiful humanity. 1When people knew him better they came to observe him in other lightsâ€"to see that he was what the world, both masculine and feminine, approves as " a very good fellow," ; frank, sanguine, healthy tempered, afieo-‘ tionate, and sincere, with no more vanity than must of necessity accompany such a face and such a figure, and with plenty of versatility and energy and talent, which did not, however, promise to rise to genius. “Yes. he is," agreed Luli. “If you had not pulled him out of the river. papa. there would have been one fewer of the already too few perfectly handsome faces in the world." she added uemurely, nestling her two hands through her father's arm as they walked homeward. _ " Handsome fellow young Mayburneis still." observed Glenoairn; “ Nob gone ofi a bigâ€"ratchet i__mprove¢_1, in @0153: “ We are too old friends to be Mr. May- burne and Miss Glencairn. surely,” she replied, frankly, giving him her hand. " Good night. Luli, then." “ And good night. Duke." They did not lower their voices nor mport any sentiment into the occasion; they were simply frank and friendly as old playmates and companions naturally are; and Glencairn had no lecture to read Luli on the familiarity of her manner; nor was she. who was still simple and open as a child. in the least fearful lest she should have been too unreserved. She had been almost as naively. naturally affectionate in her greeting to her childhood'e friend and hero as if she had met a brother. Glen- oairn had brought her up freely, though not carelessly; he knewghis daughter’s nature well. trusted her implicitly. and left her the almost perfect liberty he deemed she merited ; thus she had grown up alike more simple and innocent. and more free and fearless than most girls who have mothers to guard and guide, and sisters to grow up with them. â€" “ Good night. May I say Luli still. must I be formal now ?’ he asked. as th part9}. The scene was pretty and the time we. peaceful, and things in general were very pleasant. all the more pleasant to Duke Mayburne for Lnli'e presence, all the more pleegenq toher for his. 7 " Oh! I get on well enough." replied the young artist lightly. “ I have never expe- rienced anything nearer starvation than being reduced to a mutton-oho and a pint of bitter ale. To be sure that appened at first with rather monotonous frequency ; but I have had no nearer acquaintance with the wolf at the door than throwing him the bone of my chop out of the window," “ And h5w do you find it answer?" inqujge§i_Glenoaix-n._ “ Which were probably of a kind uncom- plimentary to my wisdom, it not doubtful of my sanity ?" conjectured Duke with an amueed_ laugh. " Yes; Aunt Chrissy told us that news- end sdded her comments there upon I" said ball with rather a mischievous little smile. “ You did not enter your uncle's omoe then?" said Glonoairn. "I think I heard something from Miss Potter 0! your deter- minafiion." one or two vain endeavors to loo up to the top at o bound. Thou on oovoro remain in my little studio with their faces tothoynllond the dust settling on their CHAPTER VII. ll, 0! they The outlines of the cliffs were clear and bold in this last hour of daylight; the broad bay lay calm and tranquil; the see was deep and shadowy and darkly blue; soft esible. a more fashionagle and regular ounge than the morning bathing. Not all together. but three together, Glenoairn, Duke and Lull. they resorted once more to the beach during the sunset hour when ‘the (able d‘hote was over; and secretly two out of the three at east rejoiced that their arty was reduced to a trio again. and oped that the family of a reeable and conversationally inclined foreigners would not find them out in their secluded s t on the now quiet and comparatively onely beech. which by morning and afternoon sunligh was so gav.r actéuaintancee of a day whom the Glencairne ha casually pickedup. ButDukeMayburne did not separate from the party. All together they walked up the cliff. to " the little gray church on the windy hill," as Duke. who had quotations from ancient and modern poets at his fingere' ends, immedi. ately dubbed it. All together they met on the beach again at the second great assembly of the “ beauty and the chivalry" of Etretat. i.e.. the afternoon hathing. which is,_ it Their little group was presently joined by a. French {amilgn consisting of parents. fwo dfmghters, 9n _ 9. nor: of tgudgr yearnâ€" " That's about true," said Glenoairn. turning his eyes slowly upon his daughter’s face, with the tenderness touched by sad- ness with which he often looked at her. “If they are not good ones. I am very confident Luli will never learn them." said Duke dropping his mimic gravity, and speaking frankly and deferentially. " I'm afraid those are not very orthodox moral lessons you are reading to my little girl, Master Duke.” observed Glencairn. abutting up his book with 0mm! his soft, subtle. half cynical smiles. “You cannot be too much given to so usefula habit," he responded. "It is a most serviceable wea on wherewith to clear your own way an get your own will in this world." ” How is that ?" asked Luli. “ To say that ° you cannot help‘ doing a thing is a polite and euphuistio way of conveying that you intend to do it." said Duke, as solemnly as a judge. “ My invariable excuse. literally and exact] repeated I" said Duke. trium- phant y. “ See, Luli. what a thing it is to have a friend who sets you good examples! May the lesson learned this day bear fruits l" he added, in apompousand slightly nasal tone, that made Luli laugh a pretty tinkling laugh musical as a oarrillon of bells. as she answered. " I didn’t need that example at all; I am a great deal too much given already to saying ‘ I can't- help it 1' " “ I7 apologize." he said humbly. “ It was very rude of me to interrupt you, but I really could not help it. That's my invs~ risble excuse for all my sins, as you will find out, and I generally find it answer. Well. now. continue. You never laughâ€"" " Only at people who are affected and strike attitudes; and. yes, I am afraid sometimes at fat old people, who are very awkward! It's very unoharitsble or me, I know; but I really can’t help it." “ I did not mean anything of that kind." protested Luli. “ and you know I did notâ€"â€" only_you woufidnft [gear me out!" “ Thank you!” exclaimed Duke laugh- ingly, opening his handsome gray eyes to their widest extent. " Thank you very muchl that really is a. satisfaction. Honest cowards are exempt from your ridicule; and you kindly assure me of the fact. I appreciate the delicate inference l” “I never laugh at the honest. cowards," begun Luli, explanatorily, but was not allowed to finish her sentence. “ Yh-u are such a severe little critic. Luli. that I rejoice heartily that I bathed early this morning. when your critical eyes were not. here to behold." “ She can’t swim," said Luli “ and Mark Antony can swim just a. little, and is very proud of it, and splashes about in the most conspicuous place be can find, taking great osre not to be very much out of his depth. but making sure that everybody will have the opportunity of admiring iiimQ’ _ “ He is Mark Antony to-day, and there is his Cleopatraâ€"crowned and bejewelled." observed Duke; as the gentleman in the elegant crimson costume bowed low and extended his hand to a. young lady in an elaborate blue braided toilette dc (min, with her hair all concealed by a lofty and brightly trimmed head-dress of oilskin, and still wearing a broad gold bracelet on each arm. As this pair exchanged courteous and graceful greeting. the Zebra emerged, sput- tering, dripping. breathless, from the waves, almost at their feet. and endeavored to emulate the grace of the other’s bow of ‘ recognition to the fair wearer of the brace- lets; but the laudable attempt was a lamentable failure ; and Cleopatra accepted Mark Antony’s offered hand. , “I don’t know. He bathed yesterday. He is French, I think. and dives beauti- fully. Watch him!" The black and gold gentleman walked up to the highest end of [the plank and plunged head first. like an arrow painted in zebra stripes, down through the clear green water. “Nowâ€" now I look at the one in crimson 1" continued Luli. “See how he poses and faces the audience. as if he were before the footlights. He is always doing statues; yesterday be folded his arms and looked like Julius Caesar; he stretches his arms up before he dives, and stands like a. Caryatides ; and the other day when it was very rough, he did the Dying Gladiator beautifully. lean- ing on one elbow in the surf." “ Who is the wasp ?" inquired Duke. indicating a tall. slim young man clad all in‘ngilljan}; spripea of_blapk 9m; gold. “ Lookl just look at his bald head! isn't it like a. white life-buoy bobbing eboutae abe exclaimed in a confidential whisper. ‘2" one ancient gentlemen, with only a. very thin and fragile fringe of hair around hie scalp ewem shorewerd. Luli was holding up a paraaol lined with pink. which reflected it becoming rosy tint on her face; she had a black velvet ribbon tied round her neck. which made her fair skin look fairer than ever; she wore a light gray dress and an oval gray straw hat. and except for the relief 0! a ink flower, and a gleam of ink ribbon. er golden hair was the brig test spot of color in the nude. niably pretty picture she madeâ€"a picture all the prettier for the childlike mirth which lit up her eyes and dimpled her cheek with smiles. am'ileg soorgfqlfliuoredulity at _t_lge Ipthpzj. The family Delamotte have joined the Glencairns to-nifht they are seated on a semicircle of obs rsin asooiable group). Luli is at the extremit of the semicircle, avmg pur sely chosen or place on the outekirte of t e group. She wears. in lieu of hat or bonnet. a Elnk and white woollen square pinned over or head and falling to her shoulders; for Etretat (in these the early days of its popu- larity) is primitive in its manners and customs. and allows startling liberty in vagaries of costume. Gentlemen prome- I This night the sea is clear as a mirror ‘and calm as a lake; the real cliffs etand~ ing up bold and dusky against the pale dreamy blue sky are scarcely more clearly outlined than the reflected gray cliffs that dip down in the serene gray sea. Away on the horizon the azure of the sky melts into gold and deepens into rose ; the great burn- ing sun has sunk in a blaze of light just now; the brilliance of the western colors is sling. and crimson, gold and azure are lsndin into a harmony lovlier than their‘ vanisheg and contrasted glories. The sun of another day is setting behind the sea at Etretat. The moon, that was a few evenin s ago a pale crescent. will be almost a in l orb when she rises this night. The Glenoairne are sitting on the shore watching the sunset ain; it has become a regular custom with t em : they never miss a sunset now. ,be it fair or cloudy ; and they never sit watching it alone. up, and reoognized.her in the flickering lamplight. though not more clearly and instantly than she recognized him through the shadows. He stood a moment. and raised his brigandish-looking hat as he looked up at her window. Then she drew slowly back. so gradually that her white figure seemed to melt away in the hazy lights and shades of her room; and that night she leaned from her window no more. nor peered into the passing shadows again. Duke had mentioned to her casually that he walked that path with his nightly cigar. She did not know that she wished to see him pass; she did not think about analyzing her feelings; she had not asked herself why she leaned so long out of her window this night; but there she remained until that tall dark figuredrew near. He looked She waited there silently, with the cool sweet sea-breeze breathing pesos and serenity round her. and fanning her oheek mth a. soft and sleepy caress. until a red spark brightened out of the darkness and a shadow fell upon the ground just under her window. When she had bid good-night to her father and ehnt herself into her room that night, Lull opened her window. and leaned upon the sill, looking out at the dark sea. and the dark sky, and the black. moveleee masses on the beach that looked like strange, ehepeleee black animals sleeping. but were only the fiehermen’e covered and roofed-in boats. The three sat there upon the shore until the fire of sunset had sunk and psled and faded away into the dusky mingling of sky and sea. and the young crescent sailed slowly up over the tall olifis to the left. where the Aignille ROOK stood out distinct among the gray shades. Then they walked together along the terrace and lounged through the Casino and turned homewsrd. Luli nestled a. little nearer to her father with a. caressing smile; but which of the two men 'a approval she valued most who shall any ? a man can write one good poem, the power of poetry must be in him, even it it can only be developed under certain circum- stances. And if circumstances can once develop that latent power, why should not such circumstances occur again, and again draw it out ?" " I think Luli has hit upon a truth," said Duke. " I have known the child teach me truths before now," said Glencairn. “ I should fancy," said Luli. half hesita. tingly. in her sofa appealing gray. “ thug if “Isometimes think that every man Is capable of one fight into genius during his life,” said Glenoairn, meditatively. “ The question is, does one true poem make a poet. or one picture an artist ‘2" “ It is such hours as those, I fancy,” observed Duke, “ which account for those occasional incomprehensible successes that occur but once, rockets that blaze and fall. Such influences must be the moving spring of the people who make one hit, write one poem. paint one picture, rise for once to genius, and then are heard of no more." “ I have seen e. sunset like that, only more vivid, ofl Gibraltar," ssld Glenosirn. " There are some hours that almost make a. poet of one in spite of one's self.” It was a sad and happy time. you say. Yet sweet as is an ever-changing tune; Ah me! the close of that still ul day When with the sun's excess eu- h seemed to swoon. And we to other wandered on the shore. Bull {col nix we should wander there no more Luli did not say a word ; her cheek was testing on her hand and her large, soft eyes gazed out pensively over the sea. But Duke knew by some sure instinct that she had listened in rapt attention to every line. Duke Mayburne had a deep musical voice, and did not recite poetry at_a_ll badly. “ Those fiery sunsets always recall those lingsfio‘lqe," observed Duke. " Browning I" said Glenoairn, quietly, in a. pgqmboyaot way._ Here, and here did England help me! how can I help England. any I Whose turns as I this evening turn to Godto praise and pray, While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa uarley.' 7" "mâ€" In dimmost northeast distance dawned Gibraltar grand and gray. “ Do you know thoeelinea. Lnli ?" “ No; whoee are they ?” said Luli, all her attention awake. bending toward him with such hushed and eager interest that she needed not to utter any words of appre- oiation. Noblyt _no_bly Capo St. Vincent to thc northwest UV,_~ _.-__.-vâ€".,-- -_.â€". .â€"" Cami bay; Blush um} the burning water. lull in face Trafal- Looking out moron the us to the lurid west, Duke Msyburne began quoting Browning's " Home thoughts :" clouds were floating in the dim aura of the sky; and all dong the hofiwn the films of sunset burned. ' 'diéd’ifivifi ' ""hâ€" " -_- _--.....--. Bunselg nu, ouo gorgooua blood red. rocking into -11- L-.. Duke continuedâ€" CHAPTER VIII. â€"MARSTON. We are told that “ Mra.anoea Hodglon Burnett is more fond of her b0 3 than}! her books." Lots of her sex pro er boys to books. A few of the friends of Rev. R. Cameron. oi Brantiord. have presented him with t gold-headed cane. To be “ thirsty" is not the right way to say it now that technical terms are Icah- ionable. To “suffer from polydipsia" is the correct thing. "Pa." asked little Johnny, " what does the teacher mean by saying that I must have inherited my bad temper?" "She meant. Johnny, that you are mother’s own My." â€"The law permits you to fish for trout now. but it does not guarantee that you will catch any. However. it does not pre- vent you Item lying. ,- ‘tht Happens In Berlin when the Crown Prlnce'e Baby Goon Ont of‘lnoon. (San Francisco Chronicle.) At the guard-houses there is considerable ‘ fuss made whenever any royalty passes ‘ that way. It is the duty and the only duty of the sentry on guard.to keep his eye open for royalty. When he sees itâ€"aud he seems to have a remarkably long range of visionâ€"he yells at the top of his by no means musical voice. The rest of the guard drop their cards and pipes, rush precipitately out, fall in and present arms with drums beating. This sort of thing is gone through with every time any royalty passes. Even the infant children of the Crown Prince receive the same homage. There is something strange in seeing a lot of grown men present arms to a year-old infant. But they do it every time the nurse of the Crown Prince‘s fam",v takes the children out for an airing. But this “ isn‘t a circumstance." as Chicago says, to what. according to the story of one of the American colon . happened here once. The nurse had a {ittle child of the Crown Prince out for a walk. and happened to pass one of the guardhouses. The sentry on duty yelled, the guard turned out and presented arms. while the drums beat. Just as the nurse and child got in front of the line of soldiers. the child espied a heap of nice. clean sand suitable for the manufacture of mud pics. The instinct of the child got the better of its training : it broke away from its nurse and began to play in the sand. The nurse protested. sntreated. beggedâ€"but it was of no use. That child was bound to indulge in a little plebeian amusement. It had its own way. and played in the sand until it had satisfied its royal mind. and all this time the guard stood at a “ present arms,” while the drummer nearly wore his drumhead out. “ I wish we were going to winter in Italy; but I'm afraid there is not the slightest chance.” said Luli,wbo was too simple and unconscious to disguise a tone of regret. '7How I aboulli like it! I wanttodo Home again_; I am afraid I did not fully appreciate it. My tasteis so unoultivatedy. you see; Ialway a want to be talked t4; about thingsâ€"_" “ And tolii what to admire ?" he responded. “All right ; come to Rome, and I'll tell you where to be enthusiastic." “ Vhy don't you winter in Italy ?" asked Duke ; " don't you hate London fogs and frosts? Think what delightful times we might havg all toggtlzer in Rome 1" “ This winter." said Luli, with a. totally unconscious accent of disappointment. “We shall be in_ London a]! this winter, I think." “ In Rome! Happy Luli. to have seen Rome! and yet 1 do not know thatlam not more to be envied; for my first Sign of Rome is before me still. I hope to go this winter." " I don’ t admire his girl: much. certainly. He does not look much like an artist. yl 11ng tolneet l_Iim_veI'y oiten In Rome. ” “Landscapeâ€"good," pronounced Duke. “ Figuresâ€"fashion-plate. Did you ever see mortal woman witti such shoulders and waists as all.Noak_e’_s gig-{a have ?" “ Noakes? Yes. I know him. What do you _thin_k of him 7" “ No; not yet. I have been haunted all day by a wild desire to do Hiawathaâ€"sail- ing into the purple vapors, you know; these sunsets have suggested the idea to me so forcibly. I would set to work at it imme- diately; but that fellow Noakes has done it already. Be is always getting the start of me in ideas. “ Have you finished your picture of the little‘gray qhurph o_n _tha w_indy‘bill?" Another half-hour has passed, and the sunset has faded; the stars are coming out shyly one by one: and Luli xe supremely happy. for Duke is by her side. Naturally he takes his seat next Luli; and as she has chosen her place on the extreme edge of the social circle. naturally they two soon drift away out of the general conversation into a tuba-tote of their own. This is their last evening but one! and if he should fall tonight, they will see only one more sunset together l and she feels miserable at thethought. nadc the terrace in high conical straw hats adorned with rosettes; a square red or blue beret is the lashiuonable morning wear; and ladies discard hats in favor of hoods, of all varietiesol shape. and in all the colors of the rainbow.whenever the spirit so moves them. Duke has told Luli that the light fleecy woollen 'kerchief she wears is far more becoming and icturesque than a hat. and Luli studies t e picturesque accordinglly. Sheisleaniug back in her wooden chair; or head slightly turned to join in the hall French.haltE lishoonversation,herhaudl lying idly in her ap ; she is fair and lresh and love y in the iadiu light; the sunset is beautiful; they are a I saying how charming it is; and Luli is very enthusiastic in her expressions of delight; but she is not happy; she is restless and disturbed; her eyes are inclined to tears and her heart is beating unevenlv. Foolish child! why is this? Is she not young and beautilul. with a life full of imitless hopes and possibilities ?â€"is she not at this lovliest hour of the day looking on the lovliest scene the place affords ?â€"is ‘not Duke Mayburne in the same village, probably now not many hundred yards 03? 0 supreme unreasonableness and folly of the dawn of love! he is not by her side Just at this moment; and something may possi- bly have happened to prevent his coming; and it is a whole long halt-hour later than he has ever been before! And for these mighty and sufiicing causes the child's heart is.ful‘l of sadness and disappointment. ml_:_ A , HALIITING INFANT ROYAIII‘Y. To be continued.)