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H " You should have charged them not to speak of it at all." returned the husband eternly. " Great heavens are the misfor- tunes of our house to be the talk of granule l" “Nay. husband, I have only done my best. Little, indeed, is the best I can do. in return for what I have received at your hands. Iwus low. and you lifted me up; I was hue. and you set me in honor." A shadow (littod. over her husband’s brow‘ "Not."she continued, “that I ever think of these things now. save when I am alone with vou. on now. I have left the past behind me altogether. Connected with our moo. although by marriage only. I eellnyeell ryeJLhorn." “ Th’at is rightly said. Once. The Clyfl- ards, like the king. motel-“nobility itself. “I told him my self. Ra] h. lost some vtilgar tongue should wound in with the rough delivery of it; and charged the household not to speak of it within his 13939318". ‘1 "We cannot chain the tongue. Ralph; and since the law forbids to out it out, as your high handed race were wont to do when a tnenlal‘e speech displeased them, the mos’b we can do is to direct its course.” " As wise as fair l" re ated Ralph in a low tone. “You have one right. Grace. as you alwaye do." ‘- Fear not, Grace," interrupted her hus- band quietly; "I keep my own wits still, although they are sorely tried. I almost wish it was not so, and that I could deem that de Roderick mi ht come to life again. I is worseto thin thsthewssmed, having no right to be so ; end rather than men should know the contents of this and will. I would lose many a. lair more of those which it so strangely devises. It was the mere reading of it which set me narrowing. Hovg goes it with Bupert,thi_nk you, grace ?_‘_' “HE looks bravely, husband. He will fltly wear your honors other you. though not, I trust, for long. long years to come." “He has heard the news. I suppose 7" ,“I told him myself. Ralph. lest some "He thought he could. He wasâ€" mad the second son, and yet mad ; think of that. Grace! No lawyer has ever seen this writing; it would count as nothing in his eyes; he would smile at the dead Clyfl'ard's ravings, and I do not choose that an man should do that. For thirty years wi led he Clyffe to my father and my bro- ther, after which he shall returnâ€"so it runs â€"and resume his own again. I have seen his cofl‘m in the chapel vault closed with a mighty look like yonder chestâ€"save that it opens from within as wellâ€"and a key is buried with him, that he may arise, and let himself out when the time comes. The thirty years will very soon be ended.” “ I‘trust. Ralph. that you do not believe “ Would it so. dear one ‘2 Then. since I would have you live, you shall hear my Uncle Boderiok’s will. He herein leaves Clyfie to Arthur his son. and Cyril utter him, for ‘thirtyxearst and shag-ff" ' If he could but have seen her face in its rapaoious ea'i-neatnessâ€"the intense longing in her greedy eyes; if he could have known what it cost her to restrain the nervous twitching of those taper fingers. he could scarcely have talked of curiosity~it was oupidity aghast with tear. " I will tell on all that Roderick would have me tel , wife, if he were alive. I hide nothing from youâ€"nothing." “ Nothing. fialph,"'retumed aheUtenderly, her mind straining Effie! the reeioue perch- ment like a greyhound in t e leash. " 1f Ithought you kept a secret from me. it would kill me." “ But he could notleave it, Ralp b. How mean you_ than he _left. it ?"_ She reached her hand towards it, but he was beforehand with her, and gently, but firmly, be retained his hold uponit. “ Nay, do_ not open it, Grace, for more curiosity’s “ It has ever been 30," returned her hue. band gloomnly. " Father to son, but never eon’ 8 son, since Guy' 3 time. " “Aye, aye." exclaimed Mrs. Clyfiard impatiently; but masking her apprehen~ sions with a great effort, she added, in a soothing tone: "Let us not talk of that, Ralph; let us not think of it, it possible.” Then, with afiected carelessness, she added, 9 Is yonder dusty parchment at your elbow this said will.” will. I did not know that he could have made a. will. Is not the land entailed? Father to non, uncle to nephew; has it not been so with_ ypur ancient race I” “ His wili ?” cried Mrs. Clifford, im701un~ tarily withdrawing her caressing hand. “ Irnever even heard that he had made a “And what isto prevent Ru r6 from holding his own, husband ? Not ing save a dark legend of your houseâ€"4 morbid fantasy of your ownâ€"aâ€"" Ralph Clyfierd bent his head. “and hid his face. Hie wife's erm still encircled his neck; her voice was low and soft, and seemed to tremble with love and pi ; but her eyes looked down upon him wi con- temptuous acorn. “Did you never read my Uncle Rod- erick_’s W111,G_rn.c_e?"intern_1pj’:ed_Rp.lph_. “I will not combat your opinion. love.” answered she, “fallaeioua and ill- groundod though I believe it to be; with me. whatever yonthinkfia anoreq." “ Sweet Gra'ce,how1 love you l" returned the old men. “ It is only for your sake thntI regret to go. I have reigned here my allotted time; how gladly would I leave all to my successor, heaven knows, if I might only think he would hold it. Poor REG '_ P9053116 1’3 - “ Has gynl’s death made you so very sad, Ral ' . that not even I can comfort you?" as ed Mrs. Clyfl‘ard of her husband. as he sat in a small chamber oommunioat~ ing with his dressing-room, and in which he was accustomed to transact his business affairs. lie smiled, not sadly. but grate- fully, lovingly, in her false sweet face. yet gravely shook his head. " You always comfort me. dear one. It I were dejected on my own aooount only, you would soon cheer me. But it is not so. Grace. although many would be sad who knew their doom had been spoken, who felt as I feel ”â€"-â€"he laid his hand upon his heartâ€"“that I have had my warning, and must soon go; yet I do not repine for that matter." A story .1 Lou and During. the Author o! ““11“ By “Gwondoli ne'g '3."th 3331333 AVF NGED AT LAST. H H v ' 011mm vn. I HOW!) AND WI". quQlEhbW " Makes more than li ht. sir; makes merry with them.” wit a churchyard tale told by a sexton to kee boys tom playing leap-frog on the tom ; has no more reverent word for any of them than hobgoblin boule; and no more courteous term than dupes and tool for those who .have‘canse to know better. She waited. looking for a storm of wrath. but this time it did not come. Ralph‘s mind had been working in a direction which. with all her skill. she could not follow. Like some out msnmnvred eueral. who suddenly finds his heleegured 0e at large, having emerged behind him underground. by sap.- so she stared. lo.led, in her husband‘s quiet face. and‘listcned to his measured tones. u "I‘lu'n mL-n L- m- -‘A. __n, n _ , ~ “This mhy béisfiai'fiféfle; may if you ”f 30. it iiiâ€"and yet I must not be hasty. to was my lam wife's favorite “ You told me thrice, Rel h, and that it boded death. or worse: an on the fifth day these messengers arrive telling of Cyril's end. ,Thie must be more than chance." ' a ‘ “ Ay, more than chance indeed." “ Yet Raymond says there is no ‘fair woman ’ at Clyfie save meâ€"a cruel saying. when we think‘o: what she wee." __â€"_ “â€" “wu- "D008 Vhé (hi-e“ to any that much?" exclaimed Ralph hoarsely. " Does he think I up bgfooled, then ?" He shrank from her caress with almost loathing. “Touch me not i" cried he, repelling her with one hand, while he shaded his eyes with the other. " I cannot hear it; so likeâ€"so like! was it indeed the mirror?" " Look for yourself.” said she, “ and at the original." She smiled her sunniost smile, and, with her head sslsnt, shook her fair locks about her in e. shower of gold. As difl'erent looked she from that rigid form which. with menacing finger, had just gleesed itself before Ralph Clyffsrd‘s gaze, as Hebe from Atropos.” “Fair Grace i" cried he, enraptured, " how beautiful you are! it makes me young to look at youl How could I ever mistake you for gnother, for less that dread spectreâ€"harbinger of ill! Thrice have I seen it. Was it not thrice, Grace? I can. thinlg 310w oi nothing but of thee." "Nay. he knows Inotbitig of what you have seen. How should he, husband. save thgpggh me alone ‘3" 77"‘7Tgtielhv‘iié? ilo 'makéa light legends of our house." “Deer husband, you are pointing to the mirror; you behold only the reflections of myself." She spoke nelightlyas she could. but her voice trembled with genuine terror. “ Deer Ralph, ’tie I. Don’t you know your Grace ?" - Ralph uttered a cry of horror. “ I see her now!" cried he. “ Some death is com- ing or the curse is falling. Lookâ€"look; thereâ€"there I " “Ay. for instance.” gasped Ralph Clyfi- 5rd; “ Give me that." " He says ‘ the fair woman.’ for whose sake Bertram killed his brother, and whom yog xomelfâ€"T" ‘ " There is little moretosay, Ralph; I have said already more than I intended. You must please hold this a secret; you must understand it is to me alone he thus speaks out. He flings his gibes about at all, 'tis true. making a mock of ancestry; but he keeps his worst for me, beeauseas I have said, he knows the barb goes home. His aim at me is the surest when he strik'es through you and yours. For instance Ralph Clyfl'ard’s eyes were flashing fire. One hand clung to the table, grasping it like a vice; the other hand was pressed against his heart. His white lip moved as with a spasm twice and thrice before they could shape “ Go on." “ Hush. Ralphâ€"hush. Be calm. Do nothing in anger. Let poor me, at least, be not the means of sowing dissension between father and son; for he is your son, you know, after all. What I was about to say was only this. that knowing how dear to me is the honor of your house. and with what worship I look upon the Clyfl'ards, alien though I be, he scoifs and sneers at what should be held most reverend, at least, by one of their own blood ; nay, he says, ‘ blood ’ is nothing. ‘ Why not boneâ€"a gentleman of bone? If old blood is so pre- 010118, why then are old bones so cheap?’ But 1_ £99.51 gexyou, husband." â€"7' résent it! What! is he his father’s tutor? Am'I to be told my duty by this rude boy? Have I robbed him of gold or lands that he should be envious of me? Does he grudge an old man that which renders the last few years of his life less lonely, less drear ‘2 Even had we children. he would have his mother’s portion; they would not rob him of a. silver piece. Nay, I have left him thrice as much besides. Unnatural, undutiful. base i" 1‘ That is true." answered Mrs. Clyfi'ard coldly. “To chase the stag. the fox, the otter, is happiness enough for Raymond. He might have been a hunteman born, for any instinct of gentle birth that he pos- sesses. Nay, even a hunteman would have some reverence for the race which he served, whereas Raymondâ€"~" “ Well, Wife. what of Raymond ‘2" “ Nothing. Ralphâ€"nothing. You are grave enough already. without my sadden- ing you further. And. after all. perhaps he only does it to vex me. He does not love his step-mother; that is only natural. A man’s eons, unless they are dutiful, like Rupert, too often resent their father's second marriage:" - ‘ '*‘ “ Resent it I" cried Ralph Clyfiard. start- ing up and limiting the table with his fist 1and sighed. the wove of thought overtaken ‘by another ‘ ' all break in speech. :“ And what (1 york 'sn‘f’when you told him of poor Cy l ‘ l . “ He said he was grleved to hear it. but sonrcelgesurprisedw'fle he 6 Uncle Cyril would buried 13.8 the He 1 and not at the Dene." *Rslph shuddered. “ Then he seemed lost in thought. and answered me at random; but presently on some trifling- nterruptiouâ€"it was the organ in the sl lery, played by Mildred Leigh, I thin â€" brightened up at once. Music is good for him, and the oo'mganionehip of the young. It is but, a. dull ife he leads here, andfit to make a young man and): “ Raymond is not sai.”returnod he; hus- band, like one who, to gain time, urges :ometbing which he knows has but little orce. Clyfio;"y'oix'7€u1 boso men-”1'85 gone; 1"“! i“. “P‘iETâ€""lehfllflvd 99W Fetal-390w. than. of wast wag 0909 you; intents should have no favefltes, of the CLESIEXT CARR DINEB WITH THE FAMILY. It has been well said. with respect to early rising. that the morning song and the evening song of most persons are very dif: ferent; promises of how up with the lark, of seeing the sun rise. 0 having a bathe in the river before breakfast, being often given over night with an enthusiasm in strange contrast with the loathing with which you are fulfilled. We draw the bill with the utmost readiness. since the hour of payment seems so far away; but in the dark dawn of acceptance and liquidation how we curse our former facility for auto- graph-writing! Similar, ‘ although in inverse proportion, are the alternations of the human mind before and alter food. No man save a fire-calm can fight well fasting; whereas, after a plentiful repeat. if a man “ But how can this bedone. Grace? Who would consent to do it? Would it not arouse suspicion, tooâ€"the misfortunes of our house being known to allâ€"of the very thing we fear ? What girl of fitting birth and station would thus be wooed, or rather would thus woo? You would not have my Rupert demeanâ€"” Ralph stopped and stammered. “ You are thinking of me, husband. 1 am not thinking of myself, but of you and yours. I answer what you are going to say with your own words. ‘ The Clyfiards like the king. confer nobility on itself.’ How- ever. let us talk no more of this at present; only think upon it, there may be no occa- sion for the remedies you seem to think so desperate. There is no hurry for a month or so.” “ A month I" cried Ralph with agitation. “ Well, say, then. for two months. But remember this ; once let the mischief go too far, and although your race were twice as ancient as it is, and your rent roll ten times as long, no woman gentle or simple, pure or frail. would consent to link her fate with that o_f_R_upe_rt Clyfl'ard.” _ - " I will think‘of it." groaned the master of Clyffe. "Leave me now, Grace; I can- not bear even gour eweet company." She atoope , touching With her lips hie etern. unconscious brow. and left the chamber without a word; but on the other side of the closed door she paused. and whispered to her own triumphant face. reflected in the dark and polished oak. “The doeting fool is mine; for I have sown the seed of much. and it will grow!" CHAPTER VIII. “ Then let him waitâ€"if you think there is no‘ danger m hie waiting. In the mean- time, let him engage himself, let the girl reside hereâ€"here with meâ€"and her good influence begin at once”! Ralph stared in silence, thenâ€"she silent tooâ€"ohmrved, " But Rue is a mere boy, a nhllfl " "Whefe you‘Have fofind some comfort or__h§ve told me so, dear husbandâ€"in a ‘ “ Then listen, Ralph; I speak this, once for all; the curse will fall, and it ie you who will have called it down. Some oom- panionship Rue muethave. or he will mope â€"-some one that will cheer, and yet will sympathize with himâ€"some one with the same tastes,but with a healthier spirit; one he can love. and who will return his love, and above all, one who will render Clyfieâ€" which is now hateful to himâ€"familiar and beloved. as you have made its frowning walls to me, Ralph ; and all beneath the eye of you, his father, who thus need never lose sight of your beloved son, but will be gladlgened day by day to see this blessing wor . ’ " And in whom is such a paragonâ€"finch a. flower of friendshipâ€"to be found ?" asked Rolg‘EClyfiard, gloomily. _ “Then give him meet and gay compan- ions; set the Hall doors wide, and bid your nei ghbors’ sons be friends with the heir of Clyge H “ I cannot do it. Grace ; you know I can- not do it; and if I could, there is no neigh- bors' son that is his equal. They would be flatterers all.” “ But Rupe'rt would .118 .more dull than ever, Grace.” “I am no tale-bearer," returned Mrs. Clyffard haughtily. “ I know of myself that so it was. Believe me it would be best thati‘these boys were_k_egt apart."_ -_ ‘ “ Are you sure. wife ?” inquired Ralph Clyfl‘ard, greatly moved. “ How know you this ? Beware how you advance this thing. if yo_u have no oertein knowledge." _ “I, Ralph? Nay. it is no concern of mine. It is our good pleasure to pass over faults t at are patent tothe world, by all means do so; :but seeing your solici- tude on poor Rupert’s account, Iâ€"â€"-" “ Well, Grace ‘2" “ I wonder at your blindnessâ€"that is all. Setting aside the ill effect that Raymond’s example might have upon his brotherâ€"for he has the stronger will. although he is the youngerâ€"it is strange to me that you do not mark his assumption, his arrogance. Not only does he show respect for none, but lords it as though he knew he were the heir of all.” “ Ah, does he so ‘2" cried Ralph. "He does, as though his brother were already doomed. This very morning, in the library he dared to twit him with his morbid feelings. his tainted mind. and angered him with hints at what might happen." {gay-$134: has .fifi‘ifW‘fitfi'fifi, "“ “What Would you have me to do w'ith Raymond. Gracey?" asked her husband thousbtzuux "And '01:, if heis rough in manner. he has 9. tee ing heart.” “ He went wfiehing this morning. though his Uncle 0 ti] died but two days back." remarked re. Clyfi'ard. “I saw him by the book's side myself. A feeling heart, ionooth! Na. ,evenithe has, what mat- ter? Why a ould that poor‘ excuse be taken for grave direliotion of duty, for vice. for disrespect ? “You uy well, Gram"? pmnia ahonld have no favorites; to Is no selfishness which wo'rkn‘ much i! laufiduo nudity in bthor' 0r mqthoz‘ Mwnrda y of their nfl'nnrinu" “ Where it is .mmvoud in the woman. “ And iff‘in egite at duty. such a feelin creeps in a (a her's heart not only ahoul he not ex ~ib'it it, but should strive by all means to make up to the less beloved child for the injury he has involuntarily done him. At times. I fear. upon the contrary. I have been harsh to Raymond; vexed with him. because I am vexed with my own heart on his account. His nature is so different from mineâ€"from that of all our ‘_‘ 4w is i9d9°d~” thunk" Mr. Clement Carr made every attempt of which he was capable topersuade the dinner-party at Clyffe that he was born with the auriferous scales. but therein signally failed. for he had not a charac- teristio in common with goldfish except their stupiditfi. He had determined to establish his 0 arecter as one of the family. by kissing his neice. upon his introduction to Miss Mildred Leigh in the drawin - room; but that young lady met him wit so dignified and elaborate a courtesy, that he dared not venture upon such an act of violence. Mr. Rupert Ulyffard gave him his hand. and uttered a few Words of polite welcome in his character of host; but Mr. Raymond drew himself up, and bowed. with no more evidence in that cold and stately curve of a desire to shake hands than is exhibited by the crescent moon. Dinner a In Russo was at that time unknown. but, for {rigidity and silence. the meal might have been served upon a steppe of Tartsry. At first Mr. Clement racked his brains for a topic of conversation. but finding nothing but a dissertationfiu n the treatment 6! the insane, which it ortunately struck him With this oeremonious conditional invi- tation to dinner. Mr. Clement Carr was fain to put up, although. when he had obtained it. he did not feel by any means comfortable. The social distinctions after which we strain and strive. with a devotion that would win us heaven. if an attempt were directed to that end, are often very disappointing; placed among the gold fish in a sphere far removed from our own. we do not feel at ease; they are only carp like ourselves, it is true, but we are conscious of the absence of the auriferous scales from our own backs. They are not lively fish, these gold ones. but their dull steady stare is extremely disconcerting; and if it were not for the after pleasure of boasting of our experiences in the crystal bowl, we should generally wish ourselves back in our native pond. The fox who observed that the gra es that hung out of the reach of his in erate exertions were sour, made a very just remark. and one which, in m o inion by no means deserves the ridiou s it has universally met with. “You are very easily satisfied, brother, and so it shall be; only before you dine, you must get sober. The young gentlemen of this family do not drink to excess, and what is more, there will be a young lady at the table.” “ Only Mildred Leigh, I supposh." “ Only Mildred Leigh, sir! May I ask by what right you take upon yourself to speak in that manner of a gentlewoman whom you have never seen ? If this is a specimen of your best manners, you are not fit for the dining-room of Clyfle Hall." “ But is she not my own nessh. Grace ?" " A misfortune of birth, sir, should not expose any person to rudeness. If you are determined to play the gentleman to-day, see you do notfilforget {your part. Dine with us, sir, and welcome; but keep you away in the meantime item the ale-flagon and the brandy-flask, forâ€"mark meâ€"it‘ would be better for you to drown yourself this day in yonder moat than to disgrace; me and mine atthe table of the Clyffards l"; " He wants to dine in the dining-room, and sleep in the Blue Chamber, ma’sm." " Besh room in the house,” muttered Mr. Clement. a What can one do but drinkeh,” inquired her relative in a. tone half-apologetic, half- defiant; “ shut up with a. aerving~man without any conversationah?" " What does he want, Gator ?" inquired MgaLClyfl'ag-d gongmptguogaly.“ _ Accordingly, when the Mistress of Clyffe did pay the housekeeper’s room a visit, not, however. until the morning had so far advanced that Mr. Cl ment Carr had seen fit to refresh himsel with another meal, and had thereby kegt up courage, he at once “tackled ” that ady upon the lack of personal respect that had been paid to him, Clement Carr, Esq. “ I am sure I am very sorry, brother.” returned she gravely ; “ you have had enough, however, I trust, to eat. I need not ask as to your drinking.” _ “ Well, I dare say Miss Grace herself, as was. will be here presently," observed Mr. William Gator : “ you had better tackle her: about“; it's_no use brggging tagger“ “Who kairsh for the ghost? I shall shleep 1n the besh room, whether it’s blue or green, or yellow, or whatever coloreh it is.’ contend with those sworn foes of eloquence and especially the eloquence of indignation, called the hiccups. “Ain’t I aâ€"Trout and marmalade always gives them to me; it’s most astroner ; nothing but brandy stops them. Was was I going to say? Ain‘t I a gentleman bred? Wash the flush do you mean by my sleeping at the village inn? Don’t interrupt, sir. 0 case, there’s no village inn. I shall shleep in the best room in the houeh.” “ That's the Blue Room, where the ghost is, Mr. Clement." “When Mr. Gideon is here, he does not do 80." returned Gator quietly. “ Well, and what then ? Hoosh, Gideon I suppose I can do as I think proper? Ain’tI 9â€"7” Here Mr. Clement Carr had to “I shall dine in his dining-room. how- ever." interrupted Mr. Clement with reso~ lution. “I am not going to be fobbed off with accommodation of this sort twice; not going to be set down again at the same table with serving men like you. Fire and turiesl Am I not own brother to the mis- tress of the house. and uncle to wash-her- neme the other young women? 0 cosh, I dine-[with the family!” _ _ Wom'hii‘) oohard' ' (Thus My. lamelft. Catawba“ conduct. on his uriv 30 Hall below, break- tut. we hive seen yto havé been algnost pusiganimous. wu‘ after breakfast. in a oonditiou to bid defiaposutom the powers of I“) laugtfihp pppgma'tu B‘ehad oon- named the half of mlarge game-pie. beside each kickehaws as trout and marmalade; while. in place of tea, he had imbibed the whole of a flagon of old ale. as well as that glass of brandy “ to top off with," which is termed by would-be dyspe tio ersons “a constable ;" and he wanteg to ow what the devil was meant by nttin him in the housekeeper‘s room, an why t e devil he had not been asked to breakfast with the family, and how the devil it all was. In vain did Mr. William Gator endeavor to fissuade him that no personal slight had 11 intentionally put upon him; that it was not the custom in great houses, or. at least at Clyfie, for the gentlefolk to take their morning meal together: and the Mas- ter of Clyde himself broke his fast alone. and even dined alone. WOW“ 41“me “M an coward. makinh themselves a parent. pushing their heads up like can islands dbovo the ocean of wine which he had swallowed. .“And wheel: my room got three doors "Follow me, sir. and'I wi'lli éhow you your room,” observed Mrs. Clyfl‘ard icily. " Itiq the Blue Room. is it not ‘2" “ The beak room in the house, ” returned Clement triumphantly. "whatever colorsh 3" III " She led him up the grand old staircase. am le enough for a hearse and four to ass its allowâ€"along the picture-gallery, sl out, but all eyes, and throu h an echoing pas. sage. where. from out o the dim obscure. four footlalln neemedto come forth to meet their own. - “What a long way to come to bedl’! observed Clement greatly sobered by their cold and lonely travel. as well as by car- taiqnappreluenslona which were _g_radually “ Your whet?” asked a. woman’s voice. low and clear as the song of a. snake charmer. “What folly is this you talk, Clement ? I am afraid you have been setting these young gentlemen but a bad example. How late you sit over your wine! Mildred has retired to her room, and I should have done likewise, had I not been attracted on my {my by what sounded almost like a broi .“ Raymond haughtily; “ there was only Mr. Clement Carr.” "Wth a matter now?" inquired the latter gentleman. awakened by the men- tion of his name from a slumber (induced by his sister’s harangue) of the probable duration of two seconds, but which had left his mind a blank as to all past transac- tions. __“ Wbaah a mattethrape ?" it is. " Take you care, Rupert Clyfl‘srd," answered Clement, stung for the once into sober rage. “ I have slipped the wings of as fierce bsntsms as you; you may come some_dsy into tnyâ€"_â€"" "What 11) brother has said,” observed Rupert basti y, »“ is what I feel myself, and what every gentleman must feel.” He laid a stress upon the word, such as could not escape the observation even of one less sober that: the person he addressed. “You are drunk," observed Raymond impetuouely. “Do not venture to utter that lady’s name again within my hearing." “ Hoitv-toitv l" rnnlied the aunt. - u m “Hoi€y-toityl" ‘i-eplied the guest: ”30 it's you who are her sweetheart, is it? 81112305!" “Wth a. matter witli' me ‘2" inquired Mr. Carr with virtuous warmth. a'â€"- Mr. Raymond'? Ha, ha, I’ve touhdiéh you out. Leave me alone for seeing into a. H "Sir." interrupted Rupert with dignity, “these remarks are most offensive, and must not be repeated. You are not in a. fit agile b9 enter a. draqug-rooxp." “ Stufi a nonahensh," returned Mr. Carr; " mush‘t ’av 9. song. I musht get. a. song Oil; of Miah Mildred ; 8011ka her aholdersh e I" “ I think it is too late.” observed Rupert quietly, “ to join the ladies tic-night; :nnnna 4!...“ 1.-.... -_..'I....Ll.. 1-“. 4.1.- .1..-_._ _. quietly, “ to join the ladies tic-night; indeed they have probably left the drawing- rnnm " room; to asking everybody, one after another, to take wine; a ceremony which in each case froze him to the in row. From a scarcity 0‘ cutlery. or some other sudloient mass. it was the custom at the Done to retain cne's knife and fork thro bout the repeat. and Clement stuck to is upon the present occasion. notwithstanding the reiterated efforts of the servants to remove them. with the tenacity of an ensign defending his colors. Upon the other hand, being unaccustomed to a napkin. and imagining it to be the property of the attendant. he greased it upon his acce tance whenever 0 came near him; fin 1* on becoming conscious of both errors. 0 assayed the first few notes of a whistle. which else- where had often stood him in good stead in moments of embarrassment; but catching his sister’s basilisk glance fixed sternly upon him. the tune quavefed into silence. and he broke out into a profuse per- spiration. . With much greater equanimity, as she had already hinted, could Mrs. Clyifard have borne to see her,brother taken out dead and dripping. by the heels. from the castle moat. than thus misbehave himself. She dreaded to leave him alone with those younggentlemen (one of them. too.her sworn fee) when his tongue should belcosened by wine ; and yet she could scarcely summon him to leave with the ladies. as then h he were a little boy. Nor, indeed. wou d he have obeyed her. He looked for the depar~ ture of the hostess and her nieceas the Beriod when he should begin to recompense imself for the past restraint, as a gentle« man attached to stron liquors, who had taken the temperance p edge for a limited time, regards the date of his franchisement. Nor, when the opportunity arrived, did. Mr. Clement Carr throw away his chance. Bumper after bumper, bottle after bottle. did he drink, and still did his youthful host and Mr. Raymond keep him company, as in duty bound. He had now not the ‘slightest difficulty in selecting a topic of conversation. nor in illustrating the same {when found, with much inappropriate 1grimeoe and gsstioulation. He had really some talent for imitating the lower animals, and by the exercise of this accom- plishment. be transformed the stately din- ing chawher of Clyife Hall into a dog- kennel, nursery for kittens, and a sty tenanted 'by a sow with a young family. Later in the evening. he arose and caught an imaginary bumble-bee ia the red damask curtains. and pursued a fictitious mouse upon all fours, till it found shelter under the sideboard. Never did performer, bent upon making himself agreeable, exhibit before so undemonstrative an audience. Mr. Rupert smiled,but it was with polite amazement. Mr. Raymond smiled, but it was with something like gratified revenge. Yet there was a feeling common to both, though unconfeesed by either, which made them regret that their guest’s vulgarity was of so very pronounced a type; and it was this same reason which caused the young men to look at one another, with their eyebrows raised, when Mr. Clement Carr expressed his opinion (somewhat tardily) that he had had enough lid liquor, and that it was time to join the res. would be inoppprtpu. he qonfinod finial!" A- -~I,!, , " Then-9 _wa.s poubroil, madam.” observed ‘tical'l; (Oontgnuod on sixth 'paco.)