THE DIAMOND BRACELET.

BY THE AUTHOR OF " EAST LYNNE."

The stately rooms of one of the finest houses in London were open for the reception of evening guests. Wax lights, looking innumerable when re flected from the mirrors, shed their jays on the gilded decorations, on the paintings, and on the gorgeous dresses of the ladies; the enlivening strains of the band invited to the dance, and the rare exotics emitted a sweet prefume. It was the West-end residences of a famed and city merchant of lofty standing.. His young w ife was an earl's daughter, and the admission to ;the house of|Mr and Lady Netherleigh -was coveted by the -ay world. , ; « There's a rent!" .almost screamed a pretty looking girl. By some mishap during! dancing her partner contrived to put h^ 00^ upoll ncr white dress, gjnJ the bottom of the skirt was torn half off. ;; "Quite impossible that I can finish the quadrille," quoth she to him, half in amusement, half provoked at the misfortune. " You must find another partner while I go and get this re paired. It was Lady Frances Chenevis. By some neglect the lady's maid was not in attendance up-stairs, and Frances, in her impatience, ran down to the housekeeper's parlor. The sister of X,ady Adela, she was quite at home in the house. She had gathered the damaged dress upon her arm, but her white silk petticoat fell in rich folds around her.

"Just look what an object that stupid—." And there stopped the young lady. For, instead of the house keeper and lady's maid, whom she ex pected to meet, nobody was in the room but a gentleman; a tall, hand some man. She looked thunderstruck; then slowly advanced and stared at him, as if not believing her own eyes.

«My Goodness, Gerald ! Well, I should just as soon have expected to meet the dead here."

" How are you, Lady Frances ?" he said, holding out his hand with hesita tion.

" Lady Frances ! lam much obli ged to you for your formality. Lady Prances returns her thanks to Mr Hope for his polite inquiries," con tinued she, in a tone of pique, and honoring him with a swimming cour tesy of ceremony. fHe caught her hand. " Forgive me, l?\nny, but our positions have altered. Afc least, mine has; and how did I know that you were altered with it." " You are an ungrateful— raven," cried she, "to croak like that, after getting me to write you no end of letters. Now don't squeeze my hand to atoms. What on earth have you come back to England for V

" I could not stop there," he returned with emotion : I was fretting away my heart-strings. So I formed a resolu tion and I came back. Guess in what way, Frances, and what to do ?" " How should I know ? To call me Lady Frances, perhaps." "As a clerk ; a clerk, to earn my bread. That's what lam now. Very consistent, is it not, for one in my posi tion to address familiarly Lady Frances Chenevix V

"You never spoke a grain of sense in your life, Gerard," she exclaimed, peevishly. " What do you mean ?" "Mr Netherleigh. has" taken me into his counting-house." " Mr Netherleigh !" she echoed, in surprise. " What, with fchat —that —"

"That crime hanging over me. Speak up, Frances." " No ; I was going to say that doubt, I don't believe you guilty; you know that, Gerard." "I am in his house of business, Frances ; and I came up here to-night from the city to bring a note to him from his partner. The reception rooms were occupied, I suppose, and the ser vants put me in here. So much the better. Ido not care to meet old acquaintances." " But you had a mountain of debts in England, Gerard, and were afraid of arrest."

"I have managed that; they are going to Jet me square up by instal ments. Has the bracelet never been heard of!"

"Oh! that's gone for good. No doubt melted clown in a cauldron, as the Colonel calls it, and* the diamonds re set. It remains a mystery of the past, and is never expected to be solved." "Fanny, how is Alice Seaton?" "You have cause to ask after her. She is dying." '•Dying!" repeated Mr Hope in a hushed, shocked tone

"I did not mean actually dying this night, or going to die to-morrow ; but that she is dying by slow degrees, there is no doubt. It may be weeks off yet j I cannot tell."

"Where is she ?"

" Curious to say, she is where you left her—at Lady Sarah Hope's. Alice could not bear the house after the loss °f the bracelet, for she was so obstinate foolish as to persist that the ser- v &nts must suspect her, even if Lady Sarah did not."

"I suppose the Hope's are here to tight 1"

"My sister is. Ido not think your has come yet." " Does he ever speak of me less re 6<totfuHy?" "Not he. I think his stormtfig

over it has only made his suspicions stronger. Not a week passes but he begins again about that detestable bracelet. He is unalterably persuaded that you took it, and nobody must dare to put in a word in your defence." Before another word could be spoken Mr Netherleigh entered. An aristo cratic-looking man, with a noble coun tenance. He bore a sealed note for Mr Hope to deliver in the city. Gerard Hope shook hands with Lady Frances ; and Mr Netherleigh, who had a word of direction to give him, walked with him into the hall. As they'stood there, who should enter but Colonel Hope, Gerard's uncle. He started back when he saw Gerard.

" C—ca—can I believe my senses V stuttered he. "Mr Netherleigh, is he one3'of your guests ?"

" He is here on business," was the merchant's reply. " Pass on, Colonel."

" No, sir, I will not pass on." cried the enraged Colonel, who had not rightly caught the word business. "Or if I do pass on, it will only be to warn your guests to take care of their jewelry. So, sir," he added, turning on his nephew, " you can come back, can you, when the proceeds of your theft are spent! You have been starring it in Calais, I hear. How long did the bracelet last you to live upon ?"

" Sir," answered Gerard, with a pale face. "It has been starving, rather than starring. I asserted my innocence at the time, Colonel Hope, and I re peat it now."

" Innocence!" ironically repeated the Colonel, turning to all sides of the hall, as if he took delight in parading the details of the unfortunate past. " Trinkets were spread out on a table in Lady Sarah's own house ; you came stealthily into it—after having been forbidden it for another fault—went stealthily into the room, and the next minute the diamond bracelet was mis sing. It was owing to my confounded folly in listening to a parcel of women that I did not bring you to trial at the time ; I have only once regretted not doing it, and that has been ever since. A little wholesome, correction at the peni tentiary might have made an honest man of you. Good night, Mr Nether leigh ; if you encourage him in your house, you don't have me in it." Now another gentleman had en tered and heard this; some servants had also heard it. Col. Hope, who firmly believed in his nephew's guilt, turned off, peppery and indignant; and Gerard, giving vent to sundry unnephew-like expletives, strode after him. The Colonel made a dash into a street cab, and Gerard walked towards the city.

Lady Frances Chenevix, her dress all right again, at least to all appearance, was waiting to regain breath after a whirling waltz. Next to her sat a lady, who had also been whirling ; Frances did not know her.

The lady opened her fan, and, while using it, the diamonds of her rich bracelet gleamed right in the eyes of Frances Chenevix. Frances looked at it and started ; she strained her eyes and looked at it again ; she bent nearer to it, and became agitated with emotion. If her recollection did not play her false, " that was the lost bracelet!" She discerned her sister, Lady Adela Netherleigh, and glided up to her. "Adela, who is that lady?" she asked pointing to the stranger. " I don't know who she is," replied Lady Adela, carelessly. "I did not catch the name. They came with the Cadogans." Frances turned from Lady Adela, and encountered Lady Sarah. "I do believe your lost bracelet is in the room," she whispered in agitation. " I thiuk I have seen it."

" Impossible !" responded Lady Sarah Hope. '« It looks exactly the same; gold links interspersed with diamonds ; and the clasp is the same ; three stars. A tall, ugly woman has it on. her black hair strained off her face. There ! she is standing up now." Lady Sarah Hope drew near and obtained a sight of the bracelet. The colour flew into her face. "It is mine, Fanny," she whispered. But the lady ab the same moment took a gentleman's arm, and moved away. Lady Sarah followed her with a view of obtaining another look. Frances Chenevix went to Mr Nether leigh and told him. He showed him self hard of belief.

" You cannot be sure at this distance of time, Fanny. And besides more bracelets than one may have been made of that pattern." " I am positive it is the bracelet," responded Fanny, "but here comes Sarah."

" I suppose Frances has been telling you," observed Lady Sarah to her brother-in-law. " I feel convinced it is mv own bracelet."

"« But—as I have just remarked to Frances—other bracelets may have been made precisely similar to yours,"

he urged. , 41 If it is mine the initials 'fe.ri. are scratched on the back of the middle star. I did it one day with a penknife." " You never mentioned that fact before, lady Sarah," hastily responded the merchant.

" No. I was determined to give no clue. I was always afraid of the affair being traced home to Gerard, and it would have reflected so much disgrace on mv husband's name."

"Did you speak to the lady?—did you ask where she got the bracelet 1" interrupted Frances.

" How could I ?" retorted Sarah. " I do not know her." - .■ .' 1,. '. ' ".'

" I will," cried Frances, in a reso lute tone. Lady Frances kept her word. She found the strange lady in the refresh ment room. Locating herself by her side, she entered upon a few trifling remarks, which were civilly received. Suddenly she dashed at once to her subject. " What a beautiful bracelet!" " I think it is," was the stranger's reply, holding out her arm for its in spection, without any reservation. •'Where did you buy it?" pursued Frances. " Garrards are my jewellers." This very nearly did for Frances, for it was at Garrards' that the Colonel originally purchased it, and it seemed to give a coloring to Mr Netherleigh's view of more bracelets having been made of the same pattern. We—one of my family—lost a brace let exactly like this some time back. When I saw it on your arm I thought it was the same. I hoped it was." The lady froze directly, and laid down her arm. " Ai*e you—pardon me, there are painful interests involved—are you sm*e you purchased this at Garrard's ?" "I have said that Messrs Garrard are my jewelers," replied the stranger in *a repelling voice ; and the words sounded evasive to Frances. The stranger bowed in silence, and turned to the refreshmeut table. Frances went to find the Cadogans, and ques tion them. She was a Lady Livingstone, they told her, wife of Sir Jasper Livingstone. The husband had made a mint of money at something or other, and been knighted ; and now they were launch ing out into high society. It seemed that nothing more could be done. Frances . Chenevix went home ; that is, to Colouel Hope's, and told her strange tale to Alice Seaton, not only about Gerard's being in England, but about the bracelet. Lady Sarah had determined not to move in the matter for Mr Netherleigh had infected her with his disbelief, especially since she heard of Lady Livingstone's assertion that Messrs Garrard were her jewelers. Not so Frances Chenevix. She was determined to follow it up ; and next morning shefgot possession of Lady Sarah's carriage, and down she went to the Hay market, to Garrards'. Alice Seaton waited her return in a pitiable state of excitement. Frances came in, looking little less excited. " Alice, it is the bracelet. Garrards' people say they have sold articles of jewellery to Lady Livingstone, but not a diamond bracelet. Moreover they say that they had, of that precise pat tern, but the one bracelet Colonel Hope bought." " What is to be done ?" exclaimed Alice. " I know ; I shall go to those Living stones. Gerard shall not stay under this cloud if I can help him out of it." " Frances " " Now,don't you preach, Alice. When I will a thing I will; lam like my lady mother for that. Sarah says she scratched her initials inside the bracelet and I shall demand to see it; if these Livingstone's refuse I'll put the | detectives on the scent. I will as sure ! as my name is Frances Chenevix." j Alice Seaton sighed ; she saw there ' was no-help for it, for Lady Frances I was resolute. " I have a deeper stake j in this than you," she said, after a j pause of consideration; " let me go to the Livingstones." Lady Frances conceded the point, though with much grumbling. The , carriage was still at the door, and Alice ■ hesitatingly dressed herself and went i down to it. Lady Livingstone was at home, and , Alice, sending in her card, was con ducted to her presence, leaving Lady Frances in the carriage. Sir Jaspar, ; who was also present, was much older than his wife, and short and stout; a good-natured looking man with a bald head. ■ Alice, refined and sensitive, scarcely J knew how she opened her subject, but ; she was met in a different manner from what she had expected. The knight and his wife were really worthy people, and listened to Alice's tale with cour tesy, and at length with interest. " You will readily conceive the night mare this has been to me, panted Alice, for her emotions was great. " The bracelet was under-my charge, and it disappeared in this extraordinary way. All the trouble that it has been produc tive of to me I am not at liberty to tell you, but it has certainly helped to shorten my life." " You look very ill," observed Lady Livingstone, with sympathy. 1" I am worse than I look. I am going into the gi*ave rapidly. Should it prove to be the same bracelet, we may be able to trace how it was lost." Lady Livingstone left the room and returned with the diamond bracelet. She held it out to Miss Seaton, and the colour rushed into Alice's poor, wan face at the gleam of diamonds ; she be lieved she recognised them. " But stay," she said, drawing back her hand as she was about to touch it; "do not give it to me just yet. If it be the one we lost, the letters S.H. are scratched irregularly on the back of the middle star. Perhaps you will first look if they] are there, Lady Living stone." Lady Livingstone turned the bracelet, glanced at the spot indicated, and then

■eiLently handed it to Sir Jaspar. Th latter smiled. •'Sure enough, here's something onth gold—l can't see distinctly withou my glasses. What is it. Lady Living stone 1" '• The letters S.H., as Miss Seato] described ; I cannot deny it." "Deny it! No, my lady; what fo should we deny it 1 If we are in posses sion of another's bracelet, lost by fraud and if the discovery will set this youn< lady's mind at ease, I don't thinl either you or I shall be the one to deir; it. Examine it for yourself, ma'am,' added he, giving it to Alice. " Lady Frances Chenevix understooc you to say you bought this of Messrs Garrard," resumed Miss Seaton. Lady Livingstone felt rather foolish "What I said was, "that Messrs Garrarc were my jewellers. The fact is, I die not know exactly where this was bought. " I know," interposed Sir Jaspar : " there's no disgrace in having bought it where I did. I got it at a pawn broker's." Alice's heart beat violently. A pawn broker's ! What dreaded discovery was at hand ? " I was one day at the east end of London, walking fast, when I saw a topaz-and-amethysfc cross in a pawn brokers' window," said Sir Jasper. " The thought struck me that it would be a pretty ornament for my wife, and I went in to look at it. In talking about jewellery with the master he reached out this diamond bracelet, and told me that would be a present worth making. He said it was the most valuable article of the sort he had had for a long while, the diamonds of the first water, worth four hundred guineas of anj~ body's money, but that being second hand, he could part with it for two hundred and fifty. And I bought it." " That was just the money Colonel Hope gave for it new at Garrards," said Alice. " Two hundred and fifty guineas." " The old wretch of a cheat ! Sold it to me at a second-hand price, as he called it, for the identical price it cost hew; Why, he ought to be prosecuted for usury." "It is just what I tell you, Sir- Jasper," grumbled his lady. " You will go to these low, second-hand dea les, who always cheat where they can, instead of to a regular jeweller; and nine times out of ten you get taken in." " But your having bought it of this pawnbroker does not bring me any nearer the knowing bow he procured it," observed Miss Seaton. " 1 shall go to him this very day, and ascertain," returned Sir Jaspar. " Tradespeople may not sell stolen bracelets with impunity." Easier said than done. The dealer protested his ignorance and innocence, and declared he had bought it in the regular course of business at one of the pawnbrokers' periodical sales. And the man spoke truth, and the detec tives were again applied to. 11. In an obscure room of a low and dilapidated lodging-house, in a low and dilapidated neighbourhood, there sat a man one evening in the coming twi light ; a towering, gaunt skeleton, whose remarkably long arms and legs looked little less than skin and bone. The man sat on the floor in a corner, his head finding a resting-place against the wall, and he had dropped into a light sleep ; but if ever famine was depicted in a face it was in his. Un washed, unshaven, with matted hair and feverish lips ; the cheeks were hollow, the nostrils white and pinched, and the skin round the mouth had a blue tinge. Some one tried and shook the door, it aroused him, and he started up, but only to cower in a bending attitude and listen. " I hear you," cried a voice. " How are you to-night, Joe ? Open the door." Nicholls opened the door, and a gentleman entered, and cast his keen eyes round the room. There was not a vestige of furniture in it; nothing but the bare, dirty walls, from which the mortar crumbled, and the bare, dirty boards. " What do you want ?" said Nicholls, peering at the stranger's face in. the gloom of the evening. "A. little talk with you. That last sweepstake you put into ." The man lifted his face, and burst forth with such eagerness that the stranger could only arrest his own words and listen. " It was a swindle from beginning to end. I had scraped together the ten shillings to put in it; and I drew the right horse, and was shuffled cut of the gains, and f. have never had my dues, not a farthing of 'em. Since then I've been ill, and I can't get about to better myself. " There's a arm for a big man." He stretched out his naked arm for inspection ; it appeared as if a touch would snap it. The stranger laid his hand upon its fingers, and his other hand appeared to be stealing furtively toward his own pocket. " I should say this looks like starva tion, Joe;" " Some'at nigh akin to it." A pause of unsuspicion, and the handcuffs were clapped on the aston ished man. He started up with an oath. tl No need to make a noise, Nicholls," said the detective, with a careless air. " I have two men waiting outside." " I swear I wasn't in the plate

? robbery," passionately uttered the man " I knew of it, but I didn't join 'em. 3 dnd I never had the "worth of as much j as a Siltspoon, after it was melted - down. And they call me a coward, and they leave me here to starve and i die ! T swear I wasn't in it." "We'll talk of the plate robbery • another time," said the officer, as he • raised his hat ; " you have got those bracelets on, my man, for another sort of bracelet. A diamond one. Don't you remember me 1" The .prisoner's mouth fell. " I thought that was over and done with, all this time—l don't know what you mean." he added, correcting himself. "No," said the officer, "it is just beginning. The bracelet is found and has been traced to you You were a clever fellow, and I had my doubts of; you at the time; I thought you were too clever to go on long." " Three officers to take, a single man, and he a skeleton !" retarted Nicholls, with a vast show of indignation. " Aye ; but you were powerful once, and ferocious, too. The skeleton aspect is a recent one." " And to be took for nothing! I don't know about any bracelet." , " Don't trouble yourself with inven tions, Nicholls. Your friend is safe in our hands, and has made a full con fession." " What friend V asked Nicholls, too eagerly. " The lady you got to dispose of it for you to the Jew." Nicholls was startled to incaution. " She hasn't split, has she ?" "Every particular she knew !►««, guessed at. Split to save herself." ■* " Then there's no faith in woman." " There never was yet," returned the officer. "If they are not at the top and bottom of every mischief, Joe, they are sure to be in the middle." " She's a disgrace to the female sex, she is," raved Nicholls. " But it's a relief, now I'm took; it's a weight off my mind. I was always expecting of it; and I shall get food in the Old Bailey at any rate." " Ah," said the officer, " you were in good service as a respectable servant; you had better have stuck to your duties." "The temptation was so great," observed the man, who had evidently abandoned all idea of denial; and now that he had done so, was ready to be voluble with remembrances and pai'ti culars. " Don't say anything to me," said the officer.' "It will be used against you.' "It came all along of my legs." cried Nicholls, ignoring the friendly injunction, and proceeding to enlarge» on the feat he had performed. And it may be as well observed that legs so long as his are rarely seen. " I have never had a happy hour since. I was; second footman there, and a good place' I had ; and I have wished, thousands of times, that the bracelet had been in a sea of fire. Our folks had left me a, 4' home to take care of the kitchen-maid and another inferior or two, taking the rest of the servants to Ascot. I had to clean the windows before they returned, and I had druv it off till the Thursday evening, when out I got on the balcony, to begin with the back drawing room—" " What do you say you got out on. ¥' " The balcony. The thing with the green rails ronnd it, that enclose the window. While I was leaning over the rails before I began, I beard something like click—click —click goihg on in the fellow room next door—which was Colonel Hope's—just as if light articles of some sort were being laid sharp on the table. Presently two voices began to talk, a lady's and a gentleman's, and I listened. Bit by bit, I heard what they were talking of—that it was jewels they had got there, and that one of 'em was worth two hundred guineas. Thinks I, if that was mine, I'd do no more work. After a while I heard them go out of the room, and I thought I'd liave a look at the rich things, so I stepped over slanting-ways on to the little ledge running along the houses, holding on by our balcony, and then I passed my hands along the wall till I got hold of their balcony—but one with ordi nary legs and arms couldn't have done it. You couldn't, sir." " Perhaps not," remarked the officer. " I raised myself on to their balcony, and looked in. My, what a show it was it was ; stunning jewellery all laid out there ; so close that if I put my hand inside, it must have struck-all all among'em, and the fiend prompted me to take one. I didn't stop to look, I didn't stop to think; the one that twinkled and had the most stones in it was the nearest to me, and I clutched it and slipped it into my footman's un dress jacket, and stepped back again.'' " And got safe into your balcony f "Yes ; but I didn't clean the window that night. I was upset like, by what I had done ; and I think, if I could have put it back again I should ; but there was no opportunity. I wrapped it up in my window-leather, and then in a sheet of brown paper, and then I put it up the chimney in one of the spare bedrooms. I kep' it by me for a month or two, and then I gave warning to leave. I thought I'd have my fling, and I became acquainted wit that lady you've just spoken of—and somehow she wormed out of me that I had got it, and I let her dispose of it for me, for she said she knew how to do it without danger.

"What did you gei'forit ¥' The skeleton shook his-head. "Thirtj : four pounds, and I had counted pn ' hundred and fifty. She took her oatl that she had not helped herself to a six pence. She stood to it she hadn't kep 1 a, farthing, and she stopped and helpec j';i. * t^ ic I"%'»cre. After that w«u t, ii '4 ;-. ;;" ■ *-■•' ■" ■"* '■■"■'" •■■-"■-o i; ■' '■'-' . _... ...... _,v ■■ ' 7/ p ;• *j ■■■■: : - ' tfjjj:^ \,:,"N r" » ■ ' ■ ' v>iwty t; ma;: hi n -a, I » '"> <* * V I X&3 'S(5:«?«eJ to Ilia :^"i:' »«*J** ri' '' . ■ „ _.', ~- -. tJ« j ..,.;. I . :..: .: tta |~ ..... n. v Tin-, or ■ r ■.:-:-■! \ iS. OtKC IJiWiCB IS -ISBS Bfi«J ->v 't/ATS'^T SHri'.T.£BjS. 11" .... ~' f , ~ ~.. i; /j.. ;j-_ ;) tJ . ,:■,,...-. .--< / ...— -■ -•■■ — ; ■ ~ si; | ' %% ■ ffi v iv A" v B i..: A « I^d'.» . - ; ""' .' let . ■ ~:. rm^* TTE-^fT tl: S" : f"y. 1,..: "" ■> : ':'..'.( ,■" 'V,, ji - **WS ? d ; . : ' :•• • i *•; :■ A •■ • tfi ■'■ ;='"':'^ •'V"--:':T's': It, '■' ; .■ : ... -i. '■ .. .; fc;- j ...,,-•■ li' 1 i4# sj Vi -• Vt. 01* >; a ! I.;;. , **•.* ■ / if: -; "* '' lv .-'.,, ' | • r than i tioiua ixave ever 6eeri.' " None will eveiv be half so worthy 3 or I will say it, Alice, in. spite of your warning hand—half so loved." " Gerard," sinking her voice, " she has waited for you." '" Nonsense, 1' he rejoined. « She has. When she shall be your wife, you may tell her that I saw it and said it." " My dai-ling— " Stay, Gerard," she gravely inter rupted ; these words of endearment are not for me. Can yon deny that you love her 1" 11 Perhaps I do—in a degree. Next to yourself —" " Put me out of your thoughts while we speak. If I were where I sood shall be, would she not be dearei to you than any one on earth 1 Would you not be well pleased to make hei your wife?"

"Yes, I might be." 11 That is enough, Gerard. Frances, coniß hither." " I thought you were talking secrets." said Lady Frances." '■' As we were," answered Alice. " Frances, what can we do to keep him among us 1 Do you know wliat Col. ' Hope has told him V "No. What?" il That though he shall be reinstated ;n favour as to money matters, he shall iioV" be in his affection or his home, pnless he prove sorry for that first rebellion of his. I think Gerard is sorry tor it; you must help him to be more so." " Fanny," said Gerard, while a damask flush mantled in her cheeks, deeper than Alice's hectic, "will you help me ?" lt As if I could make out head or tail of wnat you two are discussing !" cried Sue, as she attempted to turn away • but Gerard caught her to his side. " Fanny—will you drive me again trom the house ?" She lifted her eyes, twinkling with a ittle spice of mischief. •< I did not I rive yon before." :"■ln a manner, yes. Do you know vhat did' drive me V She had known it at the time ; and ■jrerard readifc in he*r face. ■ " I see it all," he murmuied; you aye ■ been far km'dei" to me than I : eserved. Fanny, lot me try and repay ouforit," ■' ' v ■ Alice caught'their hands together : /id held them 'between her own, with mental aspiration for tneir • life's : -lture hapiness. Some time back sbe | not have breathed it in so fervent | spirit; but—as she had said—the present world and its hopes were closing |o her. 1 "But you know, Gerard," oried f<a.dy Frances, in a saucy tone, "if you isver do help yourself to somebody ?lse's bracelet in reality, you must not jsxpect me to go to prison with you." ; " Yes, I shall," he answered womptly., " A wife must share the brfcunes of her husband."— The Argosy.

A SWEET INNOCENT.

Letter the Second, From Miss Letty Forbisher, op St. Wood, to Miss Jessy Howard, of Shepherd's Bush, London. — Extracted from the FEannafordean Museum. Again do I seek refuge in my pen, to ?hase away glooms fell '^Cimmerian thoughts, which like a cincture girdles xmnd niy soul. Thrice happy me I vhen steeped in mundane cares, and lark forebodings hover round my heart, md make the brincy sparklets well up SO my eyes ! when sorrow threatens to intomb each joy, yawns at me hideously, ike the oped lips of some gigantic wvaive, my Jessie's name penned full ieneath my gaze dispels them all, as abric of night dreams melt in thin air irhen touched by rosy morn ! ' Charlie has again written me from lie antipodes He is working hard to Jet out of the charmed circle of adverse fn'tune. I wrote, without papa's cogni sance, and advised him to study the Haori language. Well, he has done so, iear fellow, and forwai-ded me a com position of his own, which he calls by the jighly poetic nameof the "MaorifHymn : )f Praise." I herewith copy it for your. jerusal, darling, although, I fear, like ; Be you will scarcely understand it:-— MainiaWanatake, kaore he haurangi Tana koa tonu ite parani Pauana iaia he kuato ote tuatahi, Pai rawa atu teaa I te paina Parani Tana Waiata, Pera he tamahiDe Tatiman» Te hohorutanga, mete Kaira Ku. Uhere now ! what do you think of that, , barest Jessie ? I shewed it to Aunt jtuth, who told me she had a friend, a ilr Selwin, who has spent many years a New Zealand, and whom she doubted . Sot would interpret it. Well, darling, . gave aunty a copy, and this morning lie handed it back, stating Mr Selwin ad given the literal translation, at the pot, and expressed his conviction that , >oor Charles had been duped by some Practical joker whom he had requested ;O write out a few lines for him to^, ;opy. Listen, dear Jessie, to what rile calumniator says it is :— Mynheer van Dank though, he never got ' drunk, prank brandy and water gaily ; a tie quenched his thirst with a quart of the 5 first, to a pint of the latter, daily. Singing oh that a Dutchman's draught could be 'SU deep as the rolling zuider zee ! it ever I meet Mr Selwin I will tell him a piece of my mind, he may rely upon it. Poor Charles has met with & sad misfortune. You know, dearest, how I dote 5 on Miss Porter's works her'" Scottish 1 Chiefs " especially : well, near Auckland there is a lovely spofr which is called after the residence of the noble Wallace, "Ellerslie." My cousin went there (doubtless to enjoy the beauties it contained and ponder o'er the deeds of Scotland's greatest hero), when he found on retxirning; home he had dropped nearly all hi* money, which has so embarrassed him that he writes to know whether I could not lend him £50 of the money grand mamma left me by will. How gladly I would have done so had it not, in the most tiresome way imaginable, been what they called " tied up " until I'm one-and-twenty; and you know, darling; I want three years of that yet. It is most provoking! And now to sho\r you Charlie's truly noble nature. Grand—

SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAE