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eomol me PW" ' - """ ’ whether you oh!!! tell bun, and ' 5“» °’ I .hould nfnozt certainly tell bin;f . . 00D 0 I rongcommon sense, mamwm M. 1.. l humnn "owning he ha heard the can , ”"51 ' amen. and from every WM, 1° pint of “say. If Io. he will have 1 ,- L100“ opinion. “'1 I have very A v-vâ€" "-w _,, When he had learnt what he Wished to know he congratulated me Very 3““er and courteously. Lord Albwal], he said, we: a young nobleman, whom everybody liked, and who hadnever been invoked in any scandal, or even difficulty ; 31” h a. Mr. Wylie, would most certainly have known all about 1?. His lordship w” in the beat set, and belonged to We or three of the very best club, the "160“ an d White’s for instance. He was mid and b“ lieved, to have very consxnerable ability, and to be certain one day to make his mark in the Upper House. And then Mr. Wylie abruptly gave the convemtiOn a new departure by ukmg me whether I had .5 yet told Lord Ashwel! of, what he poiitely termed, the, persecutions to which I had been subjected. . I nnawered that I had not” yet h ad time to tell Lord Anhwell ,‘nything, “d I object In coming up to to“ that m res ‘ . Ind heir: to ask bun, Mr. Wylxe, win; he thought I had better do._ The man of law eonsndered the mat. ‘ t, not being, “coding to ‘ his usual pracyice, mdy at Once With 1 an entire solution of the whole difficulty. Then, having thought the matter out, lied cheerfully: 130.3?qu 3e you must let him know, soon- : or or later. wd'Peforo your engagement ] tn ‘ , i ; or. u you'do not, some enemy or other will do We PM”: for you. It i, ‘ uite n “1“.“ should be done, and ‘ §dvm°°y°oau to] do xt_at once. . The only c pom‘ble quefltion u, wxll you do n yonmlf, t or shall ”mewged:;;f3:°y::z Now, I n o 0 me 0 would 81““? g 1’; um I think yo: $23 .1. h n ' ”d duty on . m. can we $333333:- Tm ' t w 3 ' eon“ “5°???“ -m shall tell him??? ‘3 Mr. George Wylie receivéd m ~ - mud mner, although with mot-0e 32ft: sauce, Haney, than he would show to ord. mu’y clients. And he then proceeded to extract my business from me lo skilfnll md npidly that. he really knew all thou); it before 1,10: my own part, W” I even told lilm. 3‘33 thing. Mute that Mord Asimell drove me up to the station, 3nd saw me 05- Arrived » Paddingxon, 1 procured a» hanwm, and. in about. twenty minutes, found myself once again in the ofices of MesarsL‘WZylia a; Wylje. - - v. uuv wv-v bvuâ€"a, __ weather, and so on, give me at last the chance of telling him that 1 was going up to London on business um very afternoon, having in fact received a letter which made it new that I abonm do go. ‘ a The young gentleman himaeli was hearing down upon us at this juncture and wanting to know whence we came, and whither we were going, and what; we thought. of the weather, and so no, glue {he at last the "So 1 am coming; to believe. First,how- ever, let me congratulate you with all my heart. We are such very old friends, and good friends,that lneed hardly dosoin aset spoech,now let. me in turn tell you all nbout. my own love wait. I have made my fiance the happiest of men, and he is, I believe, st. this momena either dreaming of me, or else thinking of me over his after brukfss: cigar and brandy and sofa. For Heaven’s sake, if he Ihonld come up, n he my st any moment. don't look full of guilty knowledge. Try _u::l tell: us if no- thing whatever was passing in your mind. Put on what. g have heudbyon collie casual . penance. t‘is‘a very appy p rue, ex- in hitting 00' whstin describes.” “ will look, mydenr, u casual u I poa- Iibly can, uni I had better perhaps begin to look no gt once, forhere comes the young genileman himself: U .. . know nothing‘ .1: yet, except. that. he gig something in the city and must make n fair amount of money by pursuing that occupat- ‘ion, ”his private residence nnd place of residence on: of business hours is in Chee- hun Place. Be my hes mp boiler for all that love so long as he is content. to do whet. is right. end handsome in the way of settlements. pocket-money, and other such nutter: of detoll. It is in the matter: of detail denrMiz-iam.that the whole secret. of this‘ world really lies. Look to your demils,and ‘ the larger matters will take cue of them- selves quite naturally.” “I will answer categorically. My fish is tuned Sir ThomasJackaon, and is an Alder- man and ex-Lord Mayor, and very present. nhlein every respect. Of his exsgt gaping} L___ ,,.1- “Mine is ndimt. with delight. ud now tho: we have each of us booked and prac- timliy lmded our fish, suppose we begin to compare notes. Who is your filh, what does be male, how old in he, and is he in amenable condition ?” “My vxctim, no you are pleased to 1 him. Lady Craven. in bearing up won fully under :11 the circnmaunces. A no to inquire after the health ofyoura. Now tell me what you has done. tell me first, who your victim is.” ~ , w“ uvw, wuo 18 your manr' "Before I answer thnz, you must tell me whether you have accepted Lord Ashwell this time or whether you hove been him enough to once again send the poor man ofl' tbout his business. ‘ “N0. Ethel, I have done the right sad the merciful thing this time. I have told him that. I will do all I can to nuke him o most. gamble and in every my 3 model wife, and I hove sent him 03‘. I really believe, so happy that he hardly ‘ “GM heum, you don't. my to? And . m, Who hap‘pens to he s very nice (cl. ‘0' “Id to be very eligible into the bargain, 1‘“ " mud fime proposed to me. In al~ moat begins to look as it we were bewitch- ed, Tell "‘0 now; who is your man?” "I": no Ve'ry WW um, um . be eligible md to fellow into ““j‘wfi. or mting the same thing or ““38 the same thing hnppen to an “1110 :me time, It‘s mnolona ! Well what is and what. in it all about 2" ‘1'.- _ CHAPTER XLII. A. 5008“ I '83 up “d shout, I 1!“an . lnd n she happened to be also “fling up me on her own account. we ”'7 3001! found ourselves alone together; not in the shrubberie. but upon the lawn, where we could gt. once diacontinue our thAhâ€"~ A ' 7â€"“- we could At. once discontinue our fluctuation, and plunge boldly into some- ' n ““33 “30. should anyone break 111 upo no. :1 have new: for you, Ethel.” And I hue new: for you.” “:21“. my soul ! we no always dOing or the bargain, bu props”; to Yery great secret dear. It’s what to do with himself. man, who happens to be 318022. very good or rather | after For «, l5 be full of wonder- Allow v- -v â€"UIIW’ I“, dear,” she began. “ I won’t bother you with my aflaire. You have quite enough of your own to occupy all your attention ; but go I must, or I meet certainly would 1 not be leaving you at this particular crieia. ‘ I have looked at the Bradshaw. and all the other authorities, and I find that if I leate here at five sharp, I can just manage to do matters comfortably. All my packing is completed. my formal adieu: have been made, and there in nothing left for me but to be ready for the carriage when it come. round to the door. Meantime I have a letter for you which has been forwarded from Paris, where it wan addressed care of myself. It in idle to pretend that I do not know the writing, for it happen to be that I Then we made our way up through the ‘ reddening plantations to the house, for, early 38 it was, the mists were alrendy be- ginning to lie heavily on the meadows, and among the reeds end sedge. We parted in the hall, and 1 made my my'to my own room. 1 bed looked to one or two little thinga, and was beginnin to think of going downstairs to luncheon,w en E he! burst into the room. “I ‘hnve _to be 03 at once to Paris. mv , J , â€"â€" a-uv "-v In“: such. Upon whet slight circumstances our whole life often lingers. I felt stronglyâ€" aimost irresistibly-tom ted then and there 1 to tell him everything; at my evil destiny prompted me to put off doing so. I was tired with my journey, with late hours. and with the excitement of my triumph, and perhaps also I was vain enough to be iieve that s little somethin like uetry might not he altogether wit out svsi . So ; I put the matter lightly by, telling him that I should very probably make up my mind that night, end that I would cer- tsinly let him know before dinner the next “Well, my darling,” he answered, “it is idle to pretend that I am not disappoint- ‘ed, for I am. and I think I have a little ‘ reason to be. I always hated mystery, and I wanted to have had the whole thing out It once. I: must be, however, as you please. For the present I will any no more about it, but we cannot, of course, prolong our stay here indefinitely. The best of the people have gone already. and the rest will eoon be going. For my pert, ‘ I think the sooner we let the thing be known, and without giving people any un- necceesnry time to think about it and chatter about it, get married up in London and m ofl‘ to the Continent, the better it will be. Cannot you give me any idea?” '7_A_ _l._n -Lul. He began at once about myself, and ’ about our marriage. How soon was it to be? and when and where was it to take - place? and how soon might he tell all his ’ freinds about it? At present he had , thought it best to keep strictly to the very ; letter of our understanding, and to tell no , one. But, of course, the thing must be known sooner or later, he did not really see any reason why it should not just as well he made public at once. Why should we not tell the Fox’s who were kind people, and would be sure to be pleased, and have the whole thing put in the Post in the shape of the customary announcement? There was not the. least occasion for any ‘ mystery. and for his own part he wanted the news to he made public property as soon as possible. He was evidently in earnest, and not at all in a humor to be put 05. All that I could do was to beg him for a few days to let matters rest as they were. "I have no doubt," I said, "you will ‘ think me fanciful, so perhaps 1 am. In fact, I think that all women are fanciful more or less. I can only ask you for just this once to bear patiently with me, and to honor my fancy. A day or two, or even a couple of weeks (for which I do not ask, and have no intention of asking), is a very little matter after all, where two lives are concerned. As for our marriage itself, I have no wish to postpone that indefinitely, or, in fact, at all. I only want 9. few days more.” ‘ -__ -.. -.Ju I need not remind my reader that my little experience of driving hnd been acquired very late in life. BntI had a natural aptitude for it, and I could feel as 1 took the reins that the horses knew their mistress, end that Lord Ashwell could see as much. 1 When we reached The Uplands I romis~ ed then I would join him at the rustichouse by the campshead as soon as I had changed my traveling dress. This operation 1 per- ‘ formed with great care, trying to make myself look at my very best, and I really think succeeding tolerably well. Then I made my wey down to the water‘s edge, and there found Lord Ashwell throwing pebbles more or lees nimleaely into the water, and evidently In an extremely reelless frame 0! mind. My lover met me st the station. He had sent down from London a small stanhope, and a. couple of fut-trotting coho, which he said he wisheo‘i meta try. I hand _-. _‘__:_; My letter was short enough. but I knew that Lord Ashwell would be delighted to hear from me. I told him that 1 had got l through the little shopping that had taken me u to town entirely to my satisfaction, and t at I intended to return by an early train the next morning, which would land me at the station at about eleven, and that I should then drive straight to the house. I pleaded the necessity for catching the post as an excuse for the shortness of the letter, and having made certain that it would he sent 011' safely, went to bed earlier than my usual hour. l On this occasion, instead of going to the play, I dined rather late, with the allow~ ‘ ence of 3 pint of champagne. A man after this would, of course have smoked. I, on the contrary, eat. before the lire (for it. Was "like! chilly) with some tea. and aemall glass of fine champagne, and then wrote a letter, which, as I knew, would, if despatched by hand to the station-box at. Paddington, reach The Uplands in the morning mail beg. } This was evidently meant. to be final, so ‘I wished Mr. Wylie good day; was escort- ed by him in person to my cab, and, as I htd determined to stay in town for the night, was driven at once to my old quart. arena. the Langham. _ v ._ ‘-_..... v_v. “And all these things being so, I cannot. help thinking that, your best. course is to tell him youraelf who you really are, and then to suggest that he should come and see me, us 1 had Mr. Sabine’s confidence entirely, and can thoroughly satisfy Lord Aahwell upon any point he may wish to be infgrmed about." [ littlllebgoubt myself as to what that opinion w: .” “But the papers were so down on me," I said. ”Lending articles in newspapers, ” he replied, “always accept the fsit accompli, always say that they had foreseen it all ulong ; always make it out worse than it is; sad always morslize about it in a manner which is often sublimely impertinent and sickeningly hypocritical. No man with any confidence in his own opinion is ever in- fluenced by the papers. Lord Ashwell, whstever he may hsve read at the time, will have formed his own judgment upon 1 your history. and I should say that hisl judgment would he a. sound one. “Am-Q .n .L--- AL: , . . CHAPTER XLIII. I, my 1 m very glad indeed when the. time arrived that it was possible {or the to retire, for I felt thoroughly worn out with anxiety, Lord Ashwell took me down to dinner that evening, and although, of course, he WM kind and courteous, he yet stndiously refrained from anything like demonstrative attention, knowing my oh- jection to our names being coupled together for the present, and mindinl of his pm. mise to me on the subject. I returned to The Uplands with a. sense of oppression whet I could neither accoun for, not yet shake OE, and a. sort of vague foreboding of evil to come. I suppose, in reality, it was the effect- of Prince Balani~ kofl’s strange warning. “ We shall soon meet: again, darling,’ were bet-last words; “I hope to be back within ten days.” CHAPTER XLIV. That afternoon Ethel started for Paris. She had somehow or other managed to pac- ify her Aldermen, and, in fact, left him an the best possible terms. I accompanied her to the station. and bade her an afi‘eo- tionate farewell. “Well, darling,” said Ethel. “there is only one thing certain at cards, and that is that the cards cannot always be against you. Of that I am quite confident. Your bad luck up to now has been persistent, cruel, and almost malicious. It is high time that the tide began to turn. I for my own part feel pretty certain that ithas turned already, and I consequently vote that we keep our owu counsel and for the present say no more about the matter. There is the luncheon bell, and I have my old Alderman to pacify. He will be fur- ‘ ions at my having to go over to Paris, and ‘ I do not mind telling you that he is the kind of animal who wants a good deal of smoothing down. I shrewdly suspect that he has ruined his digestion with thick turtle soup and Mansion House punch, and that his digestion has ruined his temper. Nous verrons. When I am Lady Jackson, I will puta ring in his nese and pipe to him ; and my beer shall dance to my own tune or 1 will know why. You shall see my dear. You shall see. And we went down to lunch. "But you do not seem to understand, Ethel. I mean to tell Lord Ashwell every- thing before I marry him. In fact I must. tell him before. You forget. I have seen Mr. Wylie, whose advice entirely chimes in with my own previous determination. Be- sides, as Mr. W'ylie told me, if I married in any name but my own, the marriage would be an idle ceremony entirely null and void, and then all sorts of complications would follow.” v- V.-." “nu/v“. """“ I “He is a. funny fellow, dear Miriam,” she said, “very persistent, and very terriblv in earnest' But I always told you that he meant well. As for reading between the lines of his epistle, the task is an easy one â€"fur easier than the small pea under one of the threelittle thimhles. He is making alust desperate ell‘ort to get you to accept his proposition, and is trying to frighten you. What, however, you have to be frightened about. Ifail to see. If I were you, I should l certainly not answer the letter ; but I should none the less keep it as a curiosity, which, indeed, it most unquestionably is. And whatever you do, mind as soon as you are married, and have got Ashwell to your- self, that you make a clean breast of every- thing to him, and leave him nothing to find out. There will be a scene. no doubt, at the first, but through that you must struggle, and you will end by being firmer lovers than ever, and, better than lovers, friends. For friendship is better than love in proportion as it has confidence in it. while love is always passion, and conse- quently more or less irrational, capricious, and uncertain, if not, indeed, at times en- tirely treacherous. Marry him at once, my dear Miriam, and then the very day after- wards have the whole thing over." Ethel reaa {he letter over, not once, but two or three times. until I felt certain. that, she had thoroughly mastered it. Then she handed it. back to me with an enigmatical expression of countenance. She was evident- ly at, once amused and bewildered, and yet. not at, all anxious or disquieted. 1‘7? 1 handed the letter to Ethel, and said : “ Read it; for yourself, my dear, and tell Ire what it means. Your brains are sharper than my own by far. For myself, I contess, that “fairly: puzglea me.” i V __-_- v“! ru-vu va uvuuvl “If you want. me, as I am almost certain you will. and much sooner than you think, telegraph to me here, or come to me here, which ever you prefer. I have a. sort of fancy that you Will come, and so shall not leave until I hear from you. “I could write pages; but I have said all that is necessary, and will now wait un til our next meeting. “ Meantime, my own love for you re- mains unaltered,|.' told you truthfully that in was, and had been, the only passion of my life, and it remains so now. At any Lime, and under any cir- cumstances, my old proposal to you, and the promises attached to that proposal,hold good. I will leave Russia forever, and let you choose for yourself our place of abode, 6‘7! “A“ -â€"--~A ' ‘ own, so you Consequently cannotfllsei too thoroughlv forearmed. u MAMA-m- __A . . ”5‘"... -u. uvv‘u nutcrulCE under which you have virtually pl \ced me. Of course I am wrong in breaking it. Mais, que voulez-vous? News. sometimes, come to me in odd ways, and I have heard news‘ of yourself, and, to tell you the truth, of Lord Ashwell. I hope what I hear may be untrue, as his Lordship is a most estimable ‘ specimen of ayoung English country gentle- man, and would, no doubt, make a model and extremely affectionate husband. Of that I have no manner of doubt. But it is ‘ only my duty to let you know, as soon as I possibly can, that you are threatened with danger. The exact story of your life is likely at any moment, and when you least expect it. to he sprung upon you. You will then find that you have plenty of fight- ing to do, if you are even to hold your nwn on IIAI- -‘___A, , l hapded the letter to Ethel "Jockey Club, Paris, “October 24th, 18â€". MY DEAR LADY CRAVEN, “It is just possible that it may be some time before this letter will reach you. do not know where you are, and I am aware that in England, at this time of the year, your movements are very likely to be erratic. 3 “ Why am I writing to you ‘2 Of course I have not forgotten the etern interdict “-1..- hL: J .l complied, more or less mechanically, and with a certain amount of uneasiness. I was passing through a very severe and sharp crisis, and my nerves were strung to the most extreme point of tension. The letter itself did not take by any means long to read, or to master its pur- port. It was not brief, but it was tren- chzmtly to the point. _\...- u-vuv estimable of Russians, and leaetrbeariahAas to say for himself.” Icomplied, more or less mechanic and with a certain amount. of uneasi I was passing choc-n ally, uess. through a very severe and of Prince Balanikofl“. child, and let me E estimable of Russians to 83) for himself.” “ 011, '. WAD 801w POWER TIIE GIFTIE 015' US, , 1"" n. mu uuu‘d, [fly let me know _wha.p that musb D___AA , , “Yours till death. “ BALANIKOFF.” Open it fit once, my nm â€"_LAA .1 OMEMEE. ONT. FRIDAY, OCT. 5 “ Sure'ly."he said, “the matter is easy enough. You were introduced to me as Mrs. Gucoigne, and you came down here as Mrs. Gucoigne. It now turns out that , 7 _ ... V.-.vâ€". -. -. u u--.- 1 do not suppose you would believe for 3- moment, or allow to effect you in any way. You must take the tale as it. has come to you. If you knew the whole truth of it you would be sorry for me. But even the whole truth would not explain away the facts. I guite know that. You know the facts. 9110 you know the worsa. The inter- pretation.“ them is another matter. I am ready to Interpret them, but cannot explain them away.” 6‘ gunnlnl’LA, .. .... yuâ€" luv-P u-v vuv v- ... J , “You mean,” 1 said, “that my right name m not; Gaacoigne- You mean that I 0”” was Lady Craven. Well. You know my 5‘70le 83 many other people know it. I could 81)"! yea my own vex-axon of it, which IJA_, U v â€"--â€"â€"v-vuâ€" ‘ VVIOJMVUMlUu the Worst, and prepared myself to face it. One thing was evident, that he was in. a highly excited and irritable mood, 9-3: in fact. his very first words proved. “ It is very unpleasant, Mrs. Gas- coigne," he said, “when unpleasant things like this happen. I suppose they must hap- pen sometimes, but for my own part I like to get them over. I have no Wish to put any question whichmay be painful to your- 581f»:¢>r which I have not a perfect right to put. But I believe you know old Sir Henry Craven. He is down here. and has been saying a good deal about you. I cannot suppose for a moment that he is telling l downright lies. There must be something in it. He may have his own view of the matter, and he may be, or he may not. he WPODR- I do not think very much of him. But what he has said calls for an answer. In fact it calls for an answer which I can go back and give him. I am VN‘Y 5°"? for all this trouble, and I only hope to Heaven that you can help me out of it.’f _ u‘Y,, _.‘â€".V_ ‘1' .- uuuvlvu VIIIVL cuvy. The meeting was a little awkward. Of course there was mischief in the air, and I could not possibly tell what cards he might be holding in his hand. But I could see that his manner was embarrassed and uneasy Therefore I _conjgctur¢d o Okn Oâ€"Aâ€"_L -fi 1 V -_ _v-‘. ..u-- "an. In one respect, and in one only, I had the advantage of him. I knew the very worst which he could certainly know, noth- ‘ ing beyond what he might have picked up and added to by conjecture. I, in other words, have batteries in reserve; but as against this must be put the fact that I was now an old strategist. and that it is the old strategists who are always beaten,for the very simple reason that they follow stere- otyped rules of the game. and are conse- ‘ qu'tla‘ntly unequal to a sudden ernergehcy. - l n mas-Ain‘t ___ _ __ uuvuv v-uuga. Lungheon over, I strolled away by my- self down to the river. It would be idle to pretend that I was not. restless and uneasy. As I turned a corner among the infinite windings of the shrubberies there, face to {age with me, stood Lord Aahwell I have always said I considered him a. stupid man, but with a certain amount of pomp and management of detail when he might be fully prepared with all the cir- cumstances. And in this world, stupidity is apt. to rank as wisdom purposely hidden under a. veil of cunnin and caution. Not knowing what to do, bit Henry did noth- ing, but he also looked ho eless, helpless, and perfectly bewildered. ’0w a. diploma.- tisl. ought to be no'one of tllcse things. l I remember George Sabine once telling me how he got the beat of a very abusive Yankee harbor-master. The Yank talked with every variety of oath. nncedote, abuse, and blasphemy for about an hour. “When,” suidfleorge, “he had blown his wind and stopped spouting, I asked him whether that was all. He replied that it was. I then told him, not in these exact terms, that I was devotedly rateful to Providence.” My look at Sir gienry was of much the some tenor. It meant, and1 it was intended to mean, “if you have a. tongue 80 have I. If you talk, I can talk.” And with this expression stereotyped into my features. I looked at him and waited for his look in return. it. I was consequently fairly startled, when, at the other end of the room, I saw â€"-entirely himself, with all his self- posscssion about him, looking almost twenty years younger than his age, hold- ing forth with the loquncity of agossip, end the assurance of a professor, and evidently considering himself the heart, centre and focus of the entire companyâ€" no less a. person than the husband whom I had once most solemnly vowed to ove,‘ honor. and obey. It was a distinctly difficult position. I was looking steadily at Sir Henry when he looked up, and our eyes met. I made himavery formal bow. but it was with an expression in my face which intimated : “Try your worst. You and I know perfectly Well that the senbbard is thrown away. 1 do not expect quarter, and if you mean fighting, I can fight as well as yourself." I entered the room more or less heed- lessly. It had never occurred to me who might. be there, or who might not. I had in my own mind reckoned up the company, and was not. prepared for any addition to Iwnndered about the grounfis until the bell in the turret. of the tower to the stables rang out the gignal for lunch. I was in no hurry to figure early that morning. Being no longer a. child or even ugirl, I knew that in the fresh light of dawnI should appear to disadvantage. “ Avoid two things,” Ethel used to tell me, “ one of these is the lime-light ; never let it fell upon you unuwarea." In this humor I went down to the grounds. I am not defending my frame of minal. You may call it defiant, you may call it what you please.- I t seemed to me that I held all the cards in my own hand, and I was etlll not in the prime of life, but only on the threshold of that delightful period. I consequently was restless, im- patient, and in the very last temper calcu- lated to provoke or to encourage reflection. “ Stop awake all night,” you will be told, “ why, it’s the best; fun in the world. Whenever there is anything good to be done in the morning, I always take the most particular care not to go to bed. Once go to bed and you can never trust; yourself. You may sleep on like the princess in the wood.” doubt, and a sort of dread of the unseen evil with which I was apparently threat- ened. But when I got to bed no refreshing sleep, nor, indeed. sleep of any kind, came to bring me relief, and I tossed about all night a. prey to vague misgivings and un- pleasant reflections. I lit my candle and tried to read, but I found it imposxible to concentrate my attention for two minutes ‘ together, so that I was forced to give up the attempt as hopeless. I got up and paced up and down the room and then went to bed again, but the result was precisely the same. I could not sleep. do what I would, and I was finally compelled to accept the inevitable, and to remain awake the whole night. CHAPTER X LY. these exact gateful to enry was meant, and TAE SEE OORSELS AS ITIIEIBS About two months after these events, I received a. very long and very characteristic letter from the Very Reverend the Dean of Southwick, He was in the most terrible distress. Wishing to add to hie stipend, he had been induced to invest largely in the Consolidated British and Foreign General Financial Advance and Discount Company, which was to pay a. minimum dividend of fifteen per cent. The Company had burst i i .n'r “Of c6urse yoh are,” she said ; “and so am I. Gpod people} always age.” “And you have made up your mind, my dear, to do as he asks '2" “ Yes, I have thought it over. I won’e say. as the Dean would, that. I hav- prayed over the matter, but I have con- ‘sidered it thoroughly. In the first place I like Balonikofi' : in the second place, he is a. gentleman; in the third place, I mean to do as I choose. Don’s you remember my old yachting story of the, bo’s’un: ‘If any man isn’t; happy aboard; this vessel, why, by the Lord, I’ll make him know what, for.’ Tlxab’s my frame of mind, my dear. I’m aboard this vessel, and I’m perfectly happy.” “()5 (Dani-an unn or- ” nLA n...',! . (“-1 _, From the Gare du Nord, ware Ethel met me. bubbling over in her usual; fzhion. but as tender-hearted. sympathetic, and true as ever, we were driven hurriedly to the Rue Royale. By the time we had got there Ethel knew all I could tell her, not only with regard to what had taken place, but else to my plans for the future. I did not trouble myself with thinking. My mind was absolutely made up. I had closed the book of the past, and was going to begin life over again. Late, no doubt, I was, but as the proverb runs, “better late than never.” Gather your roses while you can. Or, as I fancy I remember Horace said, “Carpe diem, quam mini- mum credula postero.” ‘ I burst out laughing. Whit an excellent world it, would be if people would only be pleasant, and tell the truth 2 I took up my lozenges, and further discharged my obligations by purchasing a. bottle of Eon do Cologne. I need only add that his advise was entirely correct. The Presi- dent of the Royal College of Physicians himself could nob possibly have given me‘ better. 1 , , 77V_\â€"- .----- IV V: V|IV ‘Blllcllo “Then, madam,” said he, “try a. little internally, and as hot as you can take it. It is a. powerful soporific, and will send you to sleep at once. And as the aroma lingers in the breath, you had better let me put you up sm‘ne musk lozenges.” I’ | _____ . _, ---. .V-_.-.. "n... "gun I-u impenetrably Btolid countenance. e asked permission to feel my pulse, and thou inquired whether I had ever tasted rum. I replied truthfully that I was only familiar witrhAit. By the smell. not..- -u...“ All things have an endâ€"even the journey to Paris. Before starting. I went into a. chemist’s shop and asked for a sleeping draught, and by way of letting the man see that I knew what I was about, I told him that I was suffering from insomnia. He was a stout, goodA-nutured man with an And this missive despatched, I proved its sincerity by falling asleep in a chair until the chambermaid roused me between eleven and tweive o’clock, and took my final orders for early departure. AH.I- - , v, V.-- _....5uuuu. L vuwsl'np'lvu I'D Ethel. “I shall start for Paris by the 9.40 train to-morrow morning. Meet me, as I am tired.” We have, so far as I know, no exact English equivalent for shaking the dust of? your feet. My fly came, my boxes were put on to it : my gratuities to the servants were duly made: and I very soon found myself in the train for London, divided betwaen a. novel from the bookshelf and a view from the window. ‘ w Arnved at the Lengham. I telegraphed to 1‘ .u‘nl V -â€".-. nu Annyl’ UV UC. “I qfiiie agree'with you, ' answered Lady Aletheia, and she turned on her heel, and I heard the rustle of her skirts as she swept 111993 the corridor. “It is pe'szLps best. they should be brief,” I replied, “especially when they are final as ours is likely to be." :‘l’ A‘,:.‘ ‘ fl--.“ vv VIAVIO a V r n u l I had nsen when she came m, and 91 not herself taken a. seat, so that We both standing: _ , V_ J wwwww Jvlll IIVDPIUDIIU’IG "0h, indeed,” she answered. “You are going, Lady Craven? Well! People come and people go. Perhaps it is best that lea've-tgkings should be brief.” In a. very few minutes Lady Alethein entered. Her bearing was not perhaps aggressive, but was unquestionably chilly, and was evidently intended to producen corresponding impression. "I have to go," I said, "Lady Aletheia, and I wished before I went to bid you good -by and to thankyou for yonghospigaliby.” "(\k AWL“; n _.U , fl--- er- uwvn uu we nouse side by side wit h on 1; another word. I think if he had said it was a fine day or had asked me what were the chances of skating in the comingwinter, and whether I liked skating, it Would have driven me mad. But he did nothing of the sort. His silence was phlegmatic and ‘ English. We marched along so slowly ‘ and steadily that I could almost hear each single stone n the gravel crunch under his feet. Then we reached the porch and 1 said good-bye, and, without waiting or ‘ even looking at him. hurried into_the house. Inquiries soon satisfied me that the Lady Aietheia was in the house and able to receive me. I found her, or rather was taken to her, in a little room which I can best describe as half boudoir, half writing room. In a vet‘v fewmimmm Lad“ Momma. I “You may be right," I said, “and I dare say you are. The matter, .‘lowever, is not. one to be argued out betwcm us. You had better see me as far as the house, and when I am in its shade, we can path. We shall probably never meet. again, and we cer- tainly are not. likely to break our hearts for each other. The world has room in it for the two of us, and our orbits in all human probability will never again cross.” ; W o walked back to the housel ,,,_ _-.-.., m. .cpuuu; "out. 1 am afraid it. must be so. 1 see no other way out of the matter. There are always troubles in this world and we have to face them. You can never tell when your turn may come, and when it. does come, the only thing for you to do is to take your chance as best, you can.” , ___ w-.. ..., uetence. You are dissatisfied with what. you have heard of me. Let it be so. You are going from this place, and so am I. Let us part; as if we had never met, and let us take very great; care never to meet. again.” _ W a“..- “mu Jun. 1m“. 1331]." “The whole thing,” he replied, looking at his boots and not at me, “is very unfortunate, and I must also addâ€"very unsatisfactory. I cannot see any way out 1of it. You admit that you are not Mrs. Gascoiguc. You admit that you are here, to any the least, under a misunderstanding Misunderstardings are unpleasant things. . The difficulty in this case is most certainly ‘ not of my making.” “The difficulty need not trouble you," I cried. “ In fact, it does not exist. I abso- lutely decline to be considered as upon my defence. You are dissatisfied with “,1... _ "â€"V w... .. menu], uuu um: mawry of my life cannot always be compressed into a. few sentences of space, or a. few minutes of time. I did not mean to have any secret. froxugu, and there is nothing whatever whick‘au this minute, I wish to keep or hide from you. That. is all.” n‘mL A ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ V e ___- I-vI-ll’ uuu vunu you are Lady Craven. i‘he explanation of that is for yourself. It is the kind of thing which I do not understand, and to which I am not accustomed.” “I had intended to tell you everything. My life has had a. history, and the history of mv “in nnnnro _l_-_._ you are nongs. Gascoi, . 1894.- sorry,” he replied; "but. I ‘, and she had 33" at all, but that, the house SEE US.” were In the Market. New clerkâ€"“What: shall I wrap these chicken wings in 1’" Boasâ€"“Fly paper, of course.” [Cholera Victims Cremated by In- eendlarles. Sixty homes in the city of Blnezki, in the district of Kalish, Russian Poland, where the cholera is making fearful ravages, were set. on fire the other night and completely destroyed. A number of the inmates of these houses, who were suffering from the disease and were too weak to make any effort. to save themeelven,‘ were burned to death. ' fir-_._. .yâ€"uuvvvs drawnu n before, and yet ships were mobilize with about two~thirds of their proper complements, and in some cases scarcelyahalf of their roper complement of officers, “acting rug-lieutenantsâ€"that is to say, midshipmenâ€"being put to keep watch and generally do the duties that ought to fall upon lieutenants." The Daily Chronicle makes a demand for a short service system. It proposes that lads entered it from fourteen to fifteen years should pass through the navy and after from ten to twelve year’s service go i into the mercantile marine, with a smalll‘ annual sum as a retainer. ! The one great lesson of the'BriLish nava- manoeuvres which have just been concluded appears to be that the navy is undermsn nod to a serious degree. On this point all correspondents are agreed. Although nothing like the number of ships have been commissioned which would be required in the case of a. real war, it was impossible to find proper crews for them. The naval reserve, according to the London Daiiy Chronicle, was drawn upon as it _wes never Great Britain's Navy Undermanned. .. .- â€"-vâ€" \u- usu- rods .or branchesgrunnin horizontally each way. These are allowe to carry' laterals, or fruiting shoots, on the upper sides only, so that the grapes, now fast becoming black (for the variety is the black Hamburg), ‘ hang the entire length of the roof in straight, even lines, instead of up the roof, as is commonly the case. Over two thou- sand bunches were out out after they had set. The value of the crop, estimated at two shillings a poundâ€"which~ is,. as good grapes go. rhaps not a. high figureâ€"would be £112. ’robably no other tree of any kind in the kingdom could produce such a sum in fruit snnunlly. l I This is growing at Menresa House, Roe hampton, in a vinery 224 feet long by ll feet wide. The vine was planted by the present gardener, Mr. Davis, us a cutting, onto a well outside, more than 30 years ago. But finding that in the natural soil such capital growth was made, the present house was specially built tor its accommodation, so that now the vine and its main stems stand partly across the house, just two- thirde up its length. ‘There are seven main Greater Than That at Hampton Court. I! Bears 2,000 Bunches of Grapes. While in the public mind the great vine at Hampton Court Palace is esteemed the ‘most remarkable, even that is excelled in dimensions by the still greater vine at Cum~ bet-land Lodge, Windsor Park. Not only these giants, but probably all other vines in the kingdom, have to give place for ex- tent and productiveness to that most re- markable vine which is just at the present 1 moment carrying the enormous quantity of 852 bunches and a total weight materially exceeding half a. ton. I really feel that this delightful epiaole speaks sufficiently for itself and its writer, and needs no comment of my own. "I aEn. “visits, 'my dearest Daughter, “Your most. devoted and affectionate Father, ‘ “Avavs‘ms VANDELEITR 81'. Army.” “My Dearest Child, “First let me thank you with all my heart for your most generous and welcome aid. My days are numbered, and, in all human probability, I shall not tax your bounty long. But I am hapyy to know that I still retain your affection. The more the years roll by the more closely do you remind me of your sainted mother. "Judge not, that ye be not judged. I ‘ have always seen the full force and singular beauty of that divine command, and he ve humbly endeavored to would my life in unison with it. i “Morganatic marriages, such asyours, are. in its wisdom recognized by the Greek Church, a communion with which I have always been in thecloeest sympathyJooking forward as I do with earnest faith to the ultimate reconciliation of Christendom. The more closely {we follow pertified dogma the further we wonder from the light, and the life, and truth, [ "Take the money, my dear father, end be careful over it, and make it go as far as It. can. Non olet. I dare say that your misfortunes have not made- you forget your Latin. Your Daughter, MIRIAM. By return of post I received the follow- ing reply : The Deanery. Southwick, December 29th, 18â€". 1 , on J-_- My bankers have instructions to place a. hundred pounds at once to your credit at 3the Old Bank. Southwick, and to make a similar payment. on each quarterâ€"day. “At the some time, it is just as well that you should know where this money comes from. It is s part of the price for which I have sold myself soul and body to Prince Balenikolf. It is now two months since I wholly renounced the allowance I had been receiving from Sir Hem-y Craven. “ My Dear Father, “I am deeply moved at your and story. I owe you my life and all the happiness that my life has brought me. I should be worse than inhuman If I were not. most desPIy‘ greteful to you. a , --.._.-.v-u It was very wrong of me, but I laughed over the letter, and profauely remarked that Ally Sloper was at it. again. Then I wrote my answer. ‘ . _ _ â€". . v... «use-nu: uuu exposure, he had been compelled to set aside twelve hundred A year out of his fifteen. What, ‘ he waste do he did not lrnow. It was the dfvine will and he mun bow to it. At; the came time, I surely would not refuse out of my abundant income to aid him in this sore trial, and to enable him to have at his dispose]. not the luxuries of life, for which he had never cared, but its stern angi bare necessities. _ We. "flu... .u "no u: uquluubwfl, and was likely to remain so, as long as there was a scrap of flesh left upon the grizzly bones for accountants, receivers, trustees, and other such unclean vultures to PiCk 3b. To avoid disgrace and exposure, he had hnnn nnn.â€"-ll-1 AA . . . . up: In other words, i “ Paris, AN ENORMOUS VINE. 1, 2,0001 Bin, Champs Elysees. Decemberi’Sth, 18â€", ‘1- .- THE END. x, it, was in liquigation, The Rothschilds. It is said that owing to the close inter. marrying of the Rothschilds there is no one of the rising generation of the family who is considered capable of succteding to the management of the mt wealth new con- trolled by this house.whose total fortune is ‘ estimated by competent authorities as being rover $2,000,000.000 the Paris Rothschild: alone being set down at $350,000,000. of which Baron Alfonse, the head of the French branch, is credited with $200,000.- 000. This enormous fortune, ifit goes on increasing at the same ratio as hitherto. will double every fifteen years, and it is appalling to think of the sum to which it would amount a century hence. Under the circumstances, the bli ht upon the younger generation Bathe Ugo multbe _-_..__j_ ; _,, is tied ii the light of a th355 ofgrovidence. A Ghastly Story. At a meeting of the London Missionary Society at Leeds, the Rev. J. Choline", of New Guinea, told a rather ghastly Itory. He remembered, he said, one day wh nit. ting on the doorstep of his hut. in“ ife being a short distance from him, an old native came up. Knowing that the old gentleman had been at a cennibnl feast. which was being held in the neighborhood. Mr. Chalmers asked him what he wanted. ‘ The netive intimated that he had brought a present for “his daughter," on he styled Mrs. Chalmers and forwith placed on the ground a emall oocoenut basket, nn'd naked Mrs.Chelmers to open it At Mr. Chalmere’ eat, however,the native himself 0 ed t basket and presented it to Mn. C - era, and it was found to contain the breast of a man. Mr. Chalmers preveiled uyon him to take back the remains. Before the old netive died he became: member of the Christian church, and remeined to up to his death. “Do you thunk," said the intellectul young woman, “that there is any truth in the theory that big crew-urea no better natured than small ones?" “Yes” mower- ed the young men, “I do. Look at the difference between the Jersey mosquito and the Jersey cow.” His mother (after the sudden clings)â€" “Jamie. dear, go find bring in some kindl- ing. We'll have to make a fire.” Jamie (grumblingly complying)â€"“You had me hunting the ice wagon all day yumrdey. Seems to me you’re awful hard to suit." Mrs. Youngmaâ€""Aud so, my duling got the prize at the baby show? I knew he would. It couldn't have been otherwise." Old Bachelor (one of the judgee)â€""Yea madam. we all agreed that your baby won the Yeast objectionable of the lot. " “Hallo, yellowly! You are looking as bright as a. dollor." “I’m feeling as bright as one, too.” “You must have been taking a long vacation.” “On the contmy. I havn’b taken any: that’s why I'm looking and feeling so well.” Miss Bellefleldâ€"“Mr. Spatterd is I good sportsman." Miss Bloomfield-“Ia he? He never shoots anything." Mme Belle- field-“That in whylcau him good. I think it is real wicked to kill innocent animals and birds." Dayâ€"“ If 1 were in your flees, I wouldn’t paint; that house white; ’d point it brown.” Weeksâ€"“1f you were in my place, you’d probably be so mad that you’d paint in red, just. to spite the people who gave you advice about is." -- v..- ~uu uwl' wi â€"“ Well, tell tho-Econ to go home. an you come into the house. It’s half- past 11." Voice from doorway-4‘ Mary, whet no you doing out. there ?" Maryâ€"“I'm look- ing at the moon.” Voice from the door- wav_“ “In” e-" a” e.“ A . “ What’s the matter with Jennings,Hu- low 1’” “Oh, some mental trouble. He ‘sufi'ers from a. complete loss of memory.” “ Suffers? J ove ! he’s in great luck, con- sidering his past.” We swelter, mop and fan. And growl because ’tie hot; Then when ’tis cool we grumble, too, And wish that it was not. “ Look here." said the proprietor o the lunch establishment, " this coin has 3 hole in it.” “ Well,"replied Meandering Mike.‘ ”30 had the doughnut ye sold me.“ And he strode haughtily on. Patientâ€"“Can you tell me, doctor. the cause of baldness ?” ‘Phyaician-“ Nothing easier. air. It is due to the felling out of the heir. Will you pny now,or shall I put it down to your account 2" Physicia: -“ You must void all cxcite~ ment, avc.J beer or wine entirely, and drink only water.” “ But, doctor the idea of drinking water excites me more thou anything else." Good-bye. mosquito. soon we’ll find Your days are a e: You wereâ€"claim not to bemalignedâ€" A frightful bore. Ethelâ€"“ He was very attentive to me. I wonder if he know that, I have money 1'" CIarisaaâ€"“ You say he was very attentive to you ‘2” Ethelâ€"“ Yes.” Clarisuâ€"" Then he knows it.” Fat manâ€"“ Phew lHow do you meant for this unexpected hot. wave '3" Weather prophet~“ I think it, must. be on account of my buying a. fall overcoat, And a. heury derby.” “What! havefi'hyou named the baby yet ?" Mamn 8â€"" No.” Can’t; find my» thing good enough 2" Mammaâ€"“ Nâ€"no ; can't find out. which uncle is the richest." Sheâ€"I don’t see you with Miss Gotrox any more. Hume you and she had 3 min- undeumnding Y” Heâ€"“ No; sn under- !tanding. She rejected me.” “ Cullhim a veteran joke writer 1 Why he is not more than ‘20 years old. " “ Thu in so; but his jokes are veteran- all the same.” Daughter (weepinq)â€"“ Oh, papa. to~duy I enter already on my thirteenth yea. Fatherâ€"“Calm yourself, childâ€"it, won‘c lutlong.” Banka~“Here is nqueer fuhion item. It says baggy-kneed trousers are coming to the front.” Riveraâ€"“Where else could they come '3” ‘ “Uan I see you a 1-1: for a moment 3" “You mean alone, 011’: you '3" “You: loanâ€"that’s It, exactly. I want to borrow five.” “She is a. great fuvorite with the mule sex.” “Yen.” "Why doesn't the many 2" “Her numerous engagements prevent her.’ Possible purchaserâ€"“Now. it this mule perfectly gentle 1'" Uncle Moseâ€"“Well, uh, I nebbah knowed him to him anybody yin." [ Mrs. Squibâ€"“Do you still think thi new but too big,dea.r?" Mr. Squibâ€"“No’m got: now. I've been computing it with the ill." ' "I wish your mother were also my math- er."uid he, looking at her tenderly. "All right,"aheaaid, “I will be a mum You." “Why do you cool: your pantry in such unattractive shapes '3” “The doctor aid I must eat only plain food.” ‘ u, Jon 1' LANE. ems. w. nlcunnsi FALL FUN.