STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, FEBRUARY 10, 1883

THE HOUSE OF White Shadows.

By B. L. FARJBON,

AUTHOR OF

"Blades •o 1 - Grass," " Joshua Marvel,' " Bread and Cheese (did Kisses," " Grif," " London's Heart," .Oc, <£•«., .Ce.

CHAPTER XXII (CONOLTJD- n),

He climbed tiio tree, and crept like H cat along the stoutest branch he tould find, It bent bo. eath his weight as he hung suspended from it. It was a full of twenty feet, but ho risked it. We unloosed his hands and dropped to the tarth. Ho was shaken, but not bruised. His purpose, thus far, was accomplished, howaswiihin Iho grounds of the villa. All was (|iiict. When ho had recovered from the sh< ck of iha fill, lie stepped ■warily towards tho [lluU'O Now and thon lie was sta tied and alarmed at the shadows of tho trees which moved athwart his path, but he mustered tlitso terrors, and cropt on and on, till he heard tho i-oft souud of a clock s liking tho hour. Ho paused a* the advocate had ,'dono. acd counted the strokes—midnight. When tho sound hud quite died away ho stepped forward, aud saw the lights in tho study windows. Was anybody there? He guessed shrewdly enough, Jtli.it if tho room was occupied, it could be bt no other person than the Advo cate. Well, it was the Advocato ho came to see. Be had uo design of robbery in his mind.

He stealthily 'approached a window, and blessed hts good fortune to fiud that it was partly open. Ho peered into the btudy ; it was empty. He climbed tho sill, und dropped softly into ice loom. What a Ki'and apartment! what costly pictures and vases I what an array of books and papers ! Beiutiful objoct* met his tyeM which ever way ho turned. There was tho Advocate's chair; thero the table ■which at ho wrote. Tho Advocate had left the room for a while—(this was Gau trail's jcorrect surmise) -and intended tj return. The lamps fully turned up were proof of this. He loolted at the papers on the table. Could |ho have read, .lie would haro tern that many of th>in born his owu »amo. t'u a mas-ive sideboard there wcio bottles filled wilh liquor atdglnsstS. He drank ihrco or four gUi-se* iiipiuly, nnd then coihng himself up in a comer of the room, in a f. w minutes was fast asicop.

CHArTKK XXIII

OLD riKBKE LAMONT IN LOVE VERSES. Two hours b fore Gantrau's unlawful en trance into the Advocate's study thore hud bje ia d IHnnlty in fritting Pie.re Lamont into bis bedroom It was situated on the il'rst floor of the villa, and as he was unable to walk a step, it was nec<asary that lie should be carried upstairs. His own sir vant, whose duty it was to wheel him about and attend to bis wants, was on the spot ; but into Pierre Lamont's head had entered tne whim that he would bo carried to his loom by n» other person than Friz the Fool. The man was sent for, but could not fjv a long time lie found, and it was quit 3 half an hour before the man made his appearance. When he did ao all the other guests had left ths villa; of those •who had come uninvited only Pierre Lamont remained.

"Gently, gently, Fritz,' said the old lawjer iis he was being canied up the stairs, ' my bjues are biittle."

" BrittU: enongl), I should say," rejoined Fritz, " eliickeu bums they might be from ike weijit i f }ou."'

' .are diamonds heavy, fid?"

" Ha I ha!" laughed Fritz, "if I bad the nelling of jnu. Muster Lamont, I thou'.d like to iiiakt y( v tbe valuer. 1 should £et a rare good piicu for you at any rate." In the bcilio ro, Piirre Lamont dismis sed kin own nrvant and retained Fritz to a&ist him to uudnsi. Tho old lawjor un dressed, was a veritah c i-keletou ; thcic was not an ounce of mpeiilous ileth on his shrivelled bo~.es,

" VVJuH would you have dono in the aero of giant ?"' asl.cd Fritz, making merry at Pierre Lamout's attenuated appearance. ' his would havo served," replied Pierre Lamont, tapping his forehead wiih hi-fo.clinker. "1 should havo contrived co aa to be a match for them. Bring tbat Email tabl« clise to the bedside. Now place Iho lamp on it. Put jour Hand in tbe tail pocket of my coat; you will Cud a haudkcrcUcf there."

lie ti (1 : lie baud kerchief about his bead ; it w-is a colored one, ami as the small thiu face peeped out of it, brown-skinned and hairless, it looked like the f ice of a mummy. Friz fenze I at him und laughed immoder ately, and Piene Lamont noddedand nodded at the fool, with a smile of much humour on his lips.

"Enjoy youiself, fool, enjoy yourself," he suit! kinnly, " but dou'fc pass your life in laualitcr; it U destiuctive of brain power. Are there any hooks in this room? Look about, Fritz, look about."

""I no to bcJ"To~lhToTcr'"reforle3rrlerro Lamont, "and riad. Ptople aro idiots— they don't know how to uau the nights." " People are not owls. There aro no books iv the room."

" flow shall I pass the night?" grumbled Pierre lamont, "opeu that drawor, thtro may bo something to road iv it."

Friiz opeiied the drawer, it was filled with books, Pierre Lamont uttered a cry of delipht.

••Bring half-a-dozen of them. Quick, Sow I am happy." He opeued the books which Fritz handed to him, and placed them by his side on the bed. 'Hi y wire iv various languages Lavator ; Zirnm rmann, v Latin bo.k on Domonology; roems of Lopo de Vega; Klingemauu'i Tia^ediea; Italian Poems by Zappi, Filicaia, Cassiani, nnd others. "You undorsta-dull the.c books, Master Lamont ?' ' Of course, fool " "Whatlanguage is this?" " JLatin." "And ibis ?" "Suanish," 11 Ami r-hii?' "Itaian. ao common mind collected the"c nooks, Fritz." "The master that's dead—father of him who sleeps iv tiie next room." •l Ha : bal1' iuttrpoaed Pierre Lamont, turning over the pages as he spoke, "He Bleep* tbero, does he ?" "Yo^. His father was a ereat scholar, I've heard " "A vnriouß scholar Fritz, if these books are an epitome vf his mind. Love, philoso phy, gloomy waaderings in dark paths— here we .have them all. The light and snaflcnv.'Df life. Which way tuns your taste, fool T"

" I love the light, ot course. What, use in being a fool if you don't take advantage of your oppartUßitiee?'1

"Wtll said. Let us indulge a little. These poets arc sly rascal)-, They take unconscionable libi-rtics, nod pay with women's beauty is ether nun dare noi do.1'

Fri'z's eyes twinkled. "It docs not escape oven you, Master Lamont."

" \Vhat docs not escape mo, fool ?" " Woman's beauiy, Muster Lamont."

" Have I not e\cs in my head, and blood in my veins?" a-ked Pierre Lumont. "It warms me like wii'e to kuciw that the ugliest man and the lov< lie-t woman for n hundred miles round are \) ing undor the same roof."

Fiitz indulged in another (it of laughter, and then explained : "She Ins causilit you 100, eh ? Now, who would have th> tight it. Two of tlio cloven st !«w\ers in tho world with one a row. Hcanty is a fine power, Mutter Lamout—almost a- good as btint; a fool "

"I shall lie awake and think of her, and read love verses. 1 iolon to Zip, i, fool. To drown of love is almost us nood as en joying it." And in a vo co na'ly tendor, Pierre JLamont road from tho bi ok :—

"A hundred!" cried. Fii'z, chuckling and rubbing his baud.'. "A hundred~ prct'y—li^tic—loves. If Father Capel wote liidti g undir tho bed his face would grow as Ion.: as my arm." " Wtong. Kiilz, wrong. His faofl would beam, and ho would listen with all his oirs for the continuation of the poem,' And l'iurre L uuout resumed—

Tho picture of this withered old lawyer, silting up in b(d, with a coloured handker chief lor a nightcup tied round his bead, reading these languishing v. r.-os in a tender voice, and striving to bring into his weaven features an expression in harmony with them was truly a comi al one,

" Why, Mnsttr Laniont," said Fritz, in admira i v, " you wore cut t.ut for a gal lant Had you recited those lines in the drawing-room you would have had all the ladies at your let t—supposing," ho added with a broad giin, ' they bad all been blind."

"Ah mo," said Pierre Lamont, throwing aside the bonk with a mockkg sigh, " Too old, too old, I am afraid."

" And shrunken,1' said Fritz. "It is not to bo denied, Fritz-and thtuukeu."

" And u»ly ?'

" You sti< k daggers into me. Yes—and ugly. Ati 1" >iud with stiinuljted wrath he shook his fist in tho air, "it I were my broibcr, the Advocate, aud be were I, oh, Fritz eh?"

Fritz shook his head, slowly. "]f I w<-ro not a fo. 1 I should say I would much rather be as you are, old—and wither oil - mid ugly —and a cripple, than bo tt.■Hiding in the {place ot your brother, tho Advocate, And so would you, Master L unont, for all your Jovo tongs " He gavo a sudden gasp. "Did you see that ll.ish of lightning ?' "No. 1 " Listen, and you will hoar tho thun der." " I hoar nothing, Fritz." " For all that, thcru'a a s'orm brewlug, Master Lamont, nnd it will break ov<r thi-f houso. I shall take care of inyctlf." "I can teach you nothing, fool. Push tho lamp a little nearer to me, Give mo my waistcoat. Hcie is a geld puce for you. I owe you as much, I think. We will keep our own counsel, Fritz. Good night." "Good night, Master Lamont. I am sorry that trial ii over. It was rare fun "

CHAPTBK XXIV. ADELAIDE AM) DIONEtTA,

"■Pionetta "

"Yes, my lady." Tbe maid and her mistress were in Adelaide's dressing--oom, aud Dionetta was brushing her kdy's hair, which bung down in rich, heavy'naves, i lie Advocate's wife was proud of her hair, and often wished it wee tbe fashion to .tear it loose, so that men—worucu, ot course, did not need tbe proof - they could sec with huif an eye, as the sayingis — tbat the had no occa sion toe .11 ia the aid of att. It t< ok live years oil her age whoa her hair hung over bcr shoulders, as it was doiug now. She t-miled at herself in the gluss before which sbe was sittiuß, and h.r smile became more joyous as -lie no iced the whiteniss of her teetu aud t'.e beautiful expression of her mouth. Shs wus never tired of aliuiikg her beauty ; it was to her a most prtc ious possession, of which nothing could rob her but time. The idea of growing old was bo repugnant to her that sho thought of it as fitte as possible. "To-day is mine," sho fuquently said to herself, and sho lind once tind to Arthur Ualcombo that sbe wished with all her heart there were no to-morrow. Ye;, to-day was hers, and she was beautiful, and, gazing at the reflection of her fair self, she thought that sho did not look wore rhan eighteen.

"Do you iltiuk I do, child?" she asked of Diouetta.

" 1 hink you do whnt,my lady ?" inquired Dionetta.

/iili-Uide laughed—a musical, cbild-liko laugh—which, a man hoarii g, would have judged to be an expression of pure, inno cent delight. Sbe derived pleasure even from tub pleasant sound. "I was thinking to myself, and I be lieved I wa9 speaking aloud Do you think I look more than twenty-five ?"

" But you arc not so old, my lady," "No —and 1 don't look it, do I Dionotta?"^ _. ~„__ _ uo> "And you are not eighteen, Dionotta ?" "Not yet, my lady." It was really trup, and Adelaide's eyes sparkled as sou recognised it. She looked younger than her maid, who was in herself a beauty and young-looking. Certainly, at the particular moment Dioaetta's face wah very pale, and (here was a frightened look in hor eyes, but that would c.u-t for very little, "If Arthur could sec me now I" she thought, aud ughed happily at tbe wish, " If suddenly in the _;la?s he should appear, standing in mo doorway, gazing at me .'' rler wai!e arms were bare, and her dressing-gown had fallen fromhershouldtr.j. What matter? Her arms aad neck were bare when she was dressed. But she know that the presentment of herself, as sho sut before tbe glass, would have been, m his eyes infinitely more attractive than her appearance in evening costume. " I wonder why it should be so," she thought, and smiled again at herself for the wondering —as it tho did not know why it should be so? " 1 would close my eyes and p.-etend not to too him, and be would not move for fear of disturbing me. But if he did happen to take courage, and thinking I was asleep, steal softly into the room, why then thete would be this stupid Dionetta screaming out all of a sudden, and there would be no thing but confusion and worry. It is a wicked, wicked shame that we can't do ex actly as we like in this world. I with I had the ordering ot things." " Dionetta," smid. aloud, " I have bad a little dream."

" I saw you close your eyes for a moment, my lady." "1 dreamt I was tho most beautiful woman in all the wide world."

"You are, nay lady." Tho words were uttered in perfect honesty and simplicity

Her mistress win truly the most beautiful wi-nian she I ad ever scan.

"Nonsanco, child, uonsenco. Tlu.ro arc othcrd as fair, altk-iugli I sli-.u'il not far to stand be ido them. It was only a d'eam and this but. the commencement of it. I was tho most bouutiful woman in the world- I urn not a poet, and cannot properly doecribe myi-clf, nor a painter, tho loveliest figure, and a BUMp* that scolpow would have called perfection. Then I had tho most exquisite dressus that ovor were w< in, ai.d everything in that way a woman's heart o uld dosiru." "A happy dream, my lady." "Wait. Ihiidapaaco to live in in a lind where it «a< -inil'iier 'ha whole year Ihrtiivli. Such eaidin*, Vionettn, and such (lowch at one. only sees iv dreams. I had ri g< (nough t'r cover my fingors a dozi n tunes over, diamonds in profusion for my hair, and neck, aiid arms -trunks full of thorn a' d old 'ace, und of tho trios wonde ful jewo's i he mind can conceive Would you elinvoit, child, iv spito of all this, I was thu moss miserable woman in the univt-iw ?''

" It is hard to be'ievo, my lady."

"Notwiiiui I u:ll yuu the reason, Uio neltn. 1 was absolutely alone. Thotowas no one near me, old or joun^—not cine to look at me, to envy mo, to admire me, to love. What was ihe use of beauty, dia monds, (lowers, drosses? Tho brightest eyes, tho loveliest complexion, the whitest akin -all were thrown away. It would huvo been jut us well if I had been dressed in rags, and wcro old and wrinkled, like PlOiro Lnmont. Now, what I learn fiom my (iri'oin in this ; that beauty is not worth tho hitviui! unlo s it is ndmirnd and loved, and unless oilier people cau tee it as well us your-olf." " fverybody scea that you are beautiful, my lady ; it i* spokou of»vorywhero." '• Is it DiouctU, really now, is it?" "V«s, my lidy. And jou are admired and lovid."

" I think I am child, I know I am. So that my dream g>es for nothing. A foolish fiincy, was it not, Diouetia; but women are iicver I shall never bo tire 1, nevor, never, of hearing tho man I love say —'I love you; I love you. You aro the most baaut ful, tho dear »t, tbo sweetest.' " Stic lo.int forward and looked closely at lirrseli in the glass, and then sank back ia hor chair, and Hiniled, and half-closed her eyis. " Diorio t»," she faid presently, " what makes jou so pale t" "It is 'ho Hiadow, my l*dy, that was seen to-night," rcpliei Dionetta, in a whis per. " 1 cannot got it out of my mlud." "Rutyeii did not tee it." •' N'i, my ludv j but it was thero " "Yiiub.liovo inghobta?" "Ye*, im 1 dy." " \ ou wou'd not have tho courage to go where ono waa to he >c< a,"

"Not for all tho gold in tho world, my lady." " i'ut tbo other servants are moro courage ous "

" Thov may hi, but they would not dare to co ; they .«nid so to-night, all of tiiem." " They have been speaking of it, thin.'1 " Oh, jes, of scarcely auj thing else. Thoy kno* whose spiiitit wjs that ap peared," " Whoso was it, my child?" " The spirit of Master Aituur's mother." " How do they arrive at this knowledge, Dionctla t"

"Do you not sco it youreolf, my lady? It is so very plain. For months and months nothing has appeared. Graodmothot said to-night that if you had i.ot come to the villa, tho belief In tho Shadows would have died away altogether " " This te too ridiculous," intoruptod "dehvide. "What oun I have to do with them ?'

" If you had not come," eaid Dionetta, "Grandmother sM our young master would not to hf re. It ia because ho is In tlm house, sleeping here for tbe first night fc.r co many years, that the spirit of bis mother appotrcd t.i him.1' " liut your grandmother has told me that she does Lot believe in ■ lio Shadows."

"My lady, I think the in changing her opinion ilia she wou'd never have said wbut the did. It is long since I have seuu her so di-turbed."

Adeia'de roso from her ckair tho fairest picture of womanhood cj es over gaztu upon, a picture an ;u tiit would havo contemplated with delight. Sho stood still for a few moment-", her hand resting on her writing dei-k -

"Your grandmothor does not liko me Dioictta."

" Sue lus not Sbid so. my lady," said Dio netta, uftor an awkward pau o '•Not diiectly, child," said Adelaide; " »nd I havo no reason to complain of want of roped in her. Hut one always knows whether ono U really likid or not." "{•ho is old, my lady," murmured Dio netta " and has seen very little of ladies."

'• Kei her have you, child. Yot you do not dislika me."

'• My lady, if I daro to say it, I love you." " There is no daring iv it, child, I love to fco loved ; aud I would sooner be loved by the young than the old, to I mutt not grumble. Come here, pretty one Your tars are like litt'e p'uk shells, aud deserve something better than those small rings in them. Put thiso in their place." Sho took from a je*<-l-co£e a pair of earrings, turquoise atd small diamonds, and with her own hands made the. exchange.

' 6, my lady," sighed Diouetta, with a rose-light in her faca. "They are too fcraud for inol What shall I say when nonnln. sn« them?" Tbe girl's heart was hcrselj lv tho .'lass, ami utteied a Cry ol joy-" "Say that I gave them to you because 1 love you. I never had a maid who pleasou me half so much. Does this prove it 1" And sbe put her lips to Di ncttu'a face, The gin's eyes filled with tears, and sbo kissed Adelaide's hand in a passion of gratitude. '■ I love you Dionetta, because you love me, and became I can trust you," "Youcttu, my lady, I will serve you with all my heart aud soul. But I baye dono nothing for you tbat any ether girl could not have done."

" Would you like to do something for me tbat no other can do, that I would trust no other to dcr?"

•' Yes, my lady," eagerly onßwercd Dio netta, "I should be proud." "And you will tell no one?" " Not a soul, my lady, if you command me." "I do command you, It is easy to do— merely to deliver a note, and to say, ' This is from my mistress. I

"0, my lady, that ia no task at all It is so simple.'1

"Simple as it is, I do not wish even your grandmother to hear of it.'1 "Sho shall not—nor any person. I swear It." In the extravagancy of her gratitndo and joy she kissed a little cross that hung from her neck.

£" \ou havo made me your friend for life, Dionetta, the best friend yon ever had, or ever will have."

She sat down to the desk, and on a sheet of notepaper wrote these words ;—

"Dear Love -I cannot sloep until I wish you good Bight, with no ttprrid peopla aronnd us. Quno to ma Ij^medftately, {of ono minute otary. For ever and fo> ever youw-AUELAIDE,"

Placing the sheet of notcpaptr in an envi-lope, fhe gave it to Dionetu, saying, " I'nlcet.his no'O to Mr. lSilomnbd's room, and t ivt; it lo him. It is nd'hmg of any importance, but ho will be pleased to re ceive it."

Dionotla, marvelling why her lady should place any value upon bo slight a feivice went upstair* with tbo noto, and returned with ilie infi rmation tbat Arthur Balcom lie was not in liia room. "But the door is open, my lady," the said, "and the lamps aro buriiing." " Gd then, ngain," said Adelaide, " and place ihe note on his desk, which stands boutath my portrait. There is no barm, child ; he cannot see you, as lie is not there, and if he were, lie would not be augiy." Dionctta obeyed without fear, and when she told her mistress that the noto was plao d wheio Mr, Balcombo was sure to s c it, .-idclaido kissed her again, and wishoii hor good night.

CHAPTER XXV. riEUBK LAMONT LIKS AWAKE,

XJpou 110 porsun had the supposed np poaruuco of ft phantom in the gruunda of the Uousc of White Shadows produced so profound an impression as upon Arthur Bnlcouibo. This was but natural. Even supposing him not to have been a man of susceptibility, the young lady's terror as she gazed at tho shadows which her imagination may have conjured up could not have failed to mako an impression upon him. I his was the first niyht of his return, after an absence) of many years, to the house in which he had been born and had pasted hia unhappy childhood's lifo; aud the origin of tho belief io these white shadows which weio said to haunt his estate was so closely woven into his per sonal history as almost to toim part of himself. He hud never submitted his mind to a rigid tost of belief or disbelief in the si^ns; one of the p.incipal ainu of his life had been not only to avoid the villa, but to shut out all thought of the tragic evonts which had led to the death of his pa:cuts. Mo lovtd them bo.h with an equal love. When he thought of his mother, be saw a woman patient in sufl'eiing, of a temper ex quisitely sweet, whoso every word and act towards her child was fiau»ht witli tendor iios-s. When he th<.u«ht of hia father, ho suw a man high-principlod nnil ju-t infKx iblu in mattirs of tuht aud conscience, pnticut also in buffering, and bearing in Mlrnce aa his mother did a griff which had poisoned bis lifo and tier's. Neither had ever i-puken a word against the other. The mjst ry which kept this tender loving worn.-in, and this just hiyh principled man apart was never d.sclosed to their child. On thisjsubject they c .trenched ihcmse.vcs behind a barrier of bilence, which tbe child's love and wfneing ways could ntt penetrate. Ouly.when his mothor'a eyes were closed and her lips act led by death was ho pri vileged to witness how deeply hia father had loved her. Much of what bad been dis closed to tho Advocato's wife by Mother Denise was absolutely unknown to him. Doubtlo s ho could have learned evory par ticular of the ciicuinstances which bad led to tho p ivate divorce of his parents had his wish lain in that direction, but a dolicato iustinct whispered to him not to lift the veil, aud ho would permit no pcrsoa to ap proach the subject m his pieaenco. Tho bright appearance of his sitting room cheered jiud refreshed him when bo entered it after bidding tho Advocate pood night. Ihe euro that had been taken to make it pleasant to him was evident, and ho was instinctively gratoful for it But (hie Slcasuiabla sense was not unalloyed, Ills oavt and hia consolenco was dlnturbed, and us bo took up a handful of rotes which bad been thrown loo>o into a bowl, and inhalod their fragrance a guilty thrill shot through his veins. With tho roses in hia hand he stood beforo tho picture of Adelaide which she had hung übovo his desk. How bright and beautiful was the face, how lovely the smile with which she greeted him ! It si inoat seemed as if she wcro speaking to him, telling him that uho loved k'ni, and asking him to ussurc her once more that her love was returned. With what a tender pressure had she clasped his hand when she palled from him a fow minutes since lln her eyes he read what she dared not say in tbe pre sence of uthors, "I am yours—only yours." Ho tried to think out tho consequences of this fatal infatuation—how it commenced (though it was not in his power n fix ; it was a creation, not a growth, a star-fl isli which suddenly revealed to him that hi< hcurt his soul, wore the slaves of her beauty) —how it pr gre>sed, how he had at {is: yielded to it in ecstacy, then lied from it in horror—aud how it would cod. The attempt was vain. Ho could not tliiuk ;ho coul.l not teuton. Too passion which burned in hia heart was a consuming lire, in the fierce Huht of which the powor ut reasoning was lo.t For a moment tho fancy came upon him thai Adelaide and be were like two stats W u deriug through a dark and dangerous path, and that before them lay death, and worse than dooth- dishonor and irretrievable rule ; and that tho bright star, holding h in tightly by the hand, was whiaporini;, " I will guide you safely-only love me, love me, love met" Had he gone too fat to re- Cede Well, but he had striven to free him self, had wrestled with tho fever without success for all his endeavours bad ended in his finding himself ouce mure eutan^led in love's not. There was one means of escape —death. A coward's refuge, which mi*bt not even a fiord him a release from dishonor, for Adelaide in her desjuii might let their secret escape her. Why, then, sh'.uld ho torture himself unnecessarily. It was not iv his power to avert the inevitable. Bo htA. not. .ilalUu>utalv..Ab"Hln IVtoWIWi best after all, to do as he had cAd to the Advocate that night, to submit without a s rupgle; men were not masters, but slaves. "If 1 drift, I drift," he thought. "The path is strewn with flowers, flow many men would snvy mo, and sacrifice eveiy thing to stand in my place ?" When the image ot the Advocate, of his friend, pre sented itself to him, he thrust it sadly from him. But itcame v gain- and again, like the ghost of Banquo; conscience refused to be whipped to sleep. Cruinbliug the roses in bis hind, and utrowing the floor with the haves, ho turned, and saw gazing wistfully at him, the eyes of his mother. The ai tist who had painted her picture had nut chosen to dopict tier in her most joyous mood. Iv bis heart, also, as she sat before him, love's fever was burning, and he knew, while his brush was fixing her beauty on the canvas, that his love was returned, though treachery bad partod them. Ho had driven, not unsuccessfully, to portray in her features the expression of one who loved, and to whom lovb was denied. The look in her eyes was wistful rather thau hopeless, and conveyed, to those who knew her history, tbe idea of one who huued to find in another world the happiness sho had lost in this. Sweet aud tender leiuinisctnces of the years ho had lived with bis mother in these very rooms stole into Arthur Balcombe's miud. and for the first time in his li.'c he allowed his thoughts to dwell upon the question- Why had she been uuhappy? bhe was young, beautiful, amiable, rich; her husband was a man honored and esteemed, with a oharac'or above reproach. What secret would be revealed If the heart of this my rstory were laid bare to his sight ? If it, .were In his power to asccrijain tho truth, would tno i^Kdtmtton djnisofiftn ofrdiUonal sorrow t Bettor, then, to lot the matter I

rest. What yood pu pose would be served by raking up the ahe* cf ft mu'a-ichily p ;ia t ? bii parents were dead. And lieic ocuuird a sudden rivals on. Uis mother was dead and, but n lew short minutes siuce, hcrspnit wa« supposed to have ip peared ia iho urouuds of the villa. Almost upon the thonglu he hurriedly left the room, aud made his way into the garden.

"My nei»h'oour and master of thi* hoube," said Pic re Lamont, who was lyin^ -.vide awako in the adj ing iomi, "'d e not teem iucliue.l to rent—aomelhiuu dis turlis htiu."

Picne Lamont wasa'c c ; Fritz the foil had left him f»r the light, and the old lawyer, himsclt iv no mood iior sleep, was reading aud listening to the mov me its around him. Thee wa little to hear, only an occa-ional muffled sound, which the lis tener interpre'ed as best he could, but Arthur Balcoinbe, when he left bis room, had to pass Pierre LuniO!<t's door In his pis age to the grounds, and it was ths clearer sound ot his footsteps which led Pierre Lamont to tb s correct conclusion. "He is going out of the h. use," continued Pierre Lamont; "for what? for what? To look for his mother/* ghost, perhaps." I he old lawyer associated tliii reflection with a smile of dcri-iun. " Ghosts I and fools still live who believe in them! Well, well; but for the world's ddusions there wou d be little work for busy minds to ac comp.ish As a fantastic piece of im geiy I might conjure up an army of men sweep ing the world with brooms made of braina, of knavery, folly, trickery, and delusion. A ompreheusive word th's laat, with a ian»e si larjo that a man might lose him self in the labjriutba. Wlut's that? A f-jotstept? Human ? No. Too light for anvtliing but the fjet of a cat," Bui hnre Pierre Lamont was sadly at fault. It was Dioue fa who pasted his door in the passage without conveying 10 Arthur Balcombe's room the note written by tho advocate's wife. Before ths arrival of her new mistress Dionetta had always worn thick boot", and the sound of her footß'.ep i wa3 plain to hear ; but Adelaide's ntrvea could not endure the creaking and clattering, and t-he bad supplied her maid with shoes. Beidcs Cionstta had natu rally a light step.

Arthur Balcombe met with nothing iv tho gronndj to distuib him. No airy bhadow appeared to warn him of the danger which threatened him through his love for Adelaide. Were it possible for the spirits of the ,dead to make themselves seen and heard, assuredly the spirit of his mother would have apt ea id, and. implored him to lly from the hon-o A'ithout delay. Happy for him would it have been were no one ot the credulous fools Pierre Lamont held iv de&pisal—happy for him could he- lave loroicd out of the sha.-iows which moveJ oiouud him a spirit in which he could have believed. And could be h.ivqhea'd in the tighing of the bre<ze, a voice which wonld have impressed him with a true sense of the peril iv which he stood. But he heard and saw nothing for which he could not naturally account; and within a few minutes of midnieht he re-entered his room.

"My neighbour has returned," said Piorre Lamoar, "after his nocturnal ramb'c. i r was it an assignation? Hehas been absent long enough for one. He has been living the gay life of aides, and learnt much, no doubt. Hark I that sound again.' As of !-oru* living thing step, ing cauti usly on the boards. If 1 wero not a cripple, I would, I would sati-fy myself whether this villa W toimenUd by rentier cuts, as well as haunUd by unholy sj»icita. When w.ll eclonoe supply mankind wiih the means oi seeing and bearing that is transpiring on the other sido of stone and wooden walls? Ah! that door of his is creaking. It opens— shuts. Balcooibe's voice, of comse, and the Advoca'o's ? No ; tho other voice and. the footsteps are in putoership. Not tho Advocate's, nor any man's. Men don't tread like cats, it was a woman who paised my door, and who has been admitted ii: to tbat room. If a woman, what woman ? \hl if Fool .Fii'z were here, we woud ferret it out betwoen us befo-e wo were a quartcr-of-an-hour older. Still talking talking -like tho soft murmur of peaceful wavo^ Au 1 a laugh Iby all that's natu ial a woman's lauga !It v a woman. And I should knew that silveiy sound. There is a special music inn laiinh which cauunt bo mistaken. It is destructive, character istic. Ah! my bay, my lady ; fair face, f.l c heart; but woman, woman all over !' Bnd Pierre Lauont rubbed his hands, and also laughed ; bui his laugh w.s like his speech, silent, voiceless. {'To be continued)

Goethe's Visit to an Old Love.

' Gobtiik writes :—" I found the family to- Kcttur, just as 1 hod left them eight years before, and was rect ived in the most cordial way. As lam bow as sereno as the>ir I breathe, tho atmosphere of these good and unpretending people wa< most grateful. The »ccoud datigb'er of the hove had for merly l»ved me much more generously than I (leacivcl—more than others on whom I havo lavished grea'er passioii and loyalty. 1 was forced to have her at a moment when it alaiust cost her her life ; but she treated me with consideration, spoke lightly of the remains <-f the ilk ess she had at that time ; and from tbe first moment when I met her unexpectedly at the door, conducted herself in the most amiable manner, and showered upon me such tokens of hearty friendship that I felt quite at ease. I must do her the justice to say that she did not, by the soul the oU i»M~ ir* USiir »£fc^i~i&? each arbour, aud made me sit down ; m.d all was p.'easing. We had a beau tiful [full moon. I enquired about every thing. I found old songii I. had composea, a carriage I had paioißd. We recalled many frolics of that time, and I found my memory as keen about them as if I had been gone half a year, The old people wore true-hearted ; they found I had crown younger. I remained overnight, and lift next morning at sunrise. They bade me adieu with friendly faces. And I may now once more tbiuk with pleasure of this little nook in the world, and li c in a sens > of peace with the spirits of these recouciled ones." Of the many love affairs of Goethe's youth, this is the wont we know of. Iv the encounter with i.illi he met a coquette, almost his equal, and in the end he was the greatest sufferer. Though he loved i illi, the idea of matrimony was ropubive to him; and as soon as he was engaged he began )to diead the irrevocable bond, and when ye f..nud an excuse tiied to evade it, Soon, however, the accomplished Frau Yon Stein's influence becumt paramount, and held him fast for tin years, probably be cause the relationship was only friendship, and could not be anything nearer, as she was a married Jady. She was nine years his senior, and the mother of seven chil dren when they met. JSuch profound re spect had Goethe for her intellect that ho never wrote alive that was not submitted to her judgment.

Julia Ward Howg say* that "the financial incompetence of men In general in becoming every day more evident to the world pt larger It ia especially cvi dent is tha ttfarafog ma» thqfr w£es have " gone through " their pockefi ever night.

ODDS AND ENDS.

Parapets-'I wins. Never known to get fired—Outstanding debts.

Not suitable for a clothes line—A cord of wood. Bound to make a man cross—Getting to tbe other side i f ihe street. Landlubber "double the horn" oftener than Siiilor.i do. aud yet the latter come up gioggy. \V hen ) ou are unable to purchase a sot of scales on cied t. bar in mibd that "ca^h takes the balu.ee." He is a trim at t:st and a dose student who can draw the lioe between fault finding aud cdticism. When would the cobbler seem most likely to feel the wei^htof declining years ?—When at tbe last be is waxing old. When the widow Sharp taw a man shov ing over her wiod-pile, she said that, he 'touched a vibrating cord." A melia (looking at the Laocoon group) : " Ab, yes, firemen I see. But how did they become so intricately entangled in the h'ise ?" Uncle Moee Bays "Politeness can be canied too fur. Tu'.her day I lif ed my hat ter a 'oman an' lost de handkerchief outen It."

"Wever would call a boy of mine 'Alias,' "said Mrs Jones of fluntsviie Ala., "if I had a hundred to name. Mtn by thai; name is allus cutting up caper?. Here's Alia* Thompson, Alias Williams, Alias t;ho Nisht hawk—all been took up forstealin'." They were discns'ing an elopement, and one ludy, turning to her irii n, saii_: " Don't you believe it would kill you if your husband wa* t■> iun away with another woman ?" "It mi^ht," was the cool reply. " Great joy sometimes kills " The ne,v B dford man who fainted away ou in Montana was brought ou; of the fit by placing a dead fish to his nose. Ashe&lowiy began tj ievivi',h c murmured: " How goo.t. It smells iu3t like home." " Wh it is the greatest charge on record ?' asked the professor of hi tory. And the absent-minded student answered : "Seven teen dollars for hack hire for self and girl f-jr two hours ' 1 hey do say the first question asked by a deacon visiting Egypt was : " Now what were the ieal facts of the Potiphar scandal?" Ihe astounding statement is made that there are only five prote-sional dog-thie»es in all the great city of .->ew Vo k. A more marked instauce of the.neglect of a great industry, v n..t 01 record. C nsiderable txcitecnent wa? created in Wall-street the oilier day by a prominent operaor appeari gou the stepi of the Trea su y bui ding wiih hu hands in his own pockets. $ "Partingis such sw*)et sorrow, remarked a bald old bachelor to a pretty girl as he bade her yood-night. " I should smile," she replied, glancing upon his haiilessness, and wondering how be ever did. it. An old lady in the country bad a dandy from the ci'y to dine with her on a certain occasion. For'des-ert there happened, to be an enormous apple pie. "La, ma'am,' Slid he, "how do you manage to handle such l& pic?" " Kasy enough," was ihe reply"j "we make th". crust nD in a wheel barrow, wheel it under the apple tree, and then shake the f<uit down into it." A one-legged Yankee orator named Jones was pret>y successful in bantering an Irishman, when the latter a-ked him : " 'ow^did you come to lose your leg?" "Well," r aid Jones ' on examining my pedigree, and looking up my desc. nt,_l found that there was some Iri-h blood in me, and becoming convinced, that it had settled in my left leg, I had it cut off at once." "Be the powers," said Pat, "it would have been a good thing had it set tled in your head." ' „' A drunken man was swaying unsteadily in the street, wh- n a dog with a tin pan tied to its tail, ran between his ltgs. The collision was so forcible that the man' was up-et, and the d')R ran on, minus a piece ot its tail. The man got up bewildered, rubbed the bruised end ,of his spinal column, picked up the dog's tail and thus soli'oquiztfd : This is unfortunate. Never before suspected I had such a thing as a tail till 1 go and fall down and'break it off alight make a fortune zibitiig myself as man with tail. Ther'd been millions in it —millions in it Just my luck. Whenever I get a good thing it's always gone before 1 find it out."

Tbe editur of a religious paper was com plaining that people would not read his editoiials, and a sly old brother remarked : " I can write an aiticle for your paper, and I watrant y.-<u that neaily every man and Woman who seas the paper will real it." "On what subject will ytu write it ?" "It makes no differeace ; let it be a sermon on any subject you may dictate." "Do you mean to say that your sermon will possess unusual interest?" " No, it will.be common place " " Thea why will people, par ticnhrly women, read it?" "Because I vc ill heod it' A Scandal in High Life.'"

The Key. Whangdoodle Baxter of the Austin Bluelighr Tabernacle, called at the house of Jim Webster, one of his flock, to make a pa>toral visit, Mrs Webster was at bomp, bat not desiring to f nrnish W hang doodle with th* usual square raeil, of which he wai in pursuit hid behind a curtain and told her little boy to tell the clergyman that ->he was not ot home, In hi'liuy be hind the cuitain, however, she unknowingly left her feet exposed to view. "Is your mudder in?'1 ''No, sir; she am gone out walking." " When she comes home tell s« I.ayiiLe«8Pjiiia ii«et h!efrsißi!g fwi 1£ her, as dey am mighty, useful in walking any diataice."

A customer with wrath in his tones and file in bis eye, entered a ready-made cloth ing establishment in th;s city the o her day. Throwing down the bundle he had bought the d.iy before, he exclaimed : " Here, take back this snit nod give my my money. You swore it was all wool, when it is half cotton." " Well, I declare I" ex. claimed the dealer, throwing his hands into the air. "Well I declare 1" Now that is surprising. I guets the wool that cloth was made from came from a sheep raised in the South that have been allowed to run through the cotton fields. That's the only way we could possibly get any cotton in the clothing we sell here.

When I was ayouop man (says an Ameri can newspaper writer) I spent several years ia the Soutb, residing for a while at Port Gibson on the Mississippi river A great deal of litigation was going on (here about that time, and it was not an easy matter to obtain a jury. One day I was summoned to act in that capacity, and repaired to Court to get excused. On my Dame being called I informed liis Honor the Judge thac I was not a freeholder, and therefore not qualified to seive. "I am stopping for the time being at this place." " You board at the hotel, I presume?" " I take my meals there, bat have rooms in another part of the town where I lodge." "So you keep bachelor's hall ?" "Yes sir." " How long havo you lived in that Manner ?" " About six months." " 1 think you are qualified," gravely remarked the Judge, "for I have never known a man to keep bachelor's hall the length of time you name who had not dirt enough in his room to make him a free holder, The Court does not excuse you,

'J he young lady with "Sbj^S has beconii quite hearse ihronoh *?' them. iBo mucli. - •"' "ini> Two Montana mcD, while slnkino b oke into a subterranean cavero HI? a\ bkoleton->. From the number of di-W^ in the pit it must have been an oldti! The guests have diaeu and ihohoit round a cisc of cigars, "J don't myself," he says, ■' but you wil!'- fi 2*« good—my mau steals nio;e of- th-Z.'% any b ai.'tl I tver hud. '■■'■u?: J1Mli 11 J I'lin QuUcoy f dams made it a mi i on time to the miuuti?; atidln tbis l.st buud.cds of valuaole hours wair^1" other puople. A icau who baa been • * fur is alwa>s moie welcome. . ■ ° *ai^ A very uld lady onherdeath hti'i' : teniia. mo d, sai! : " I have btdn'? M sinner more thau e:ghty years ' an j 'P** kaowi'.1' An old coloured worn. had lived with her a 1 n, timrS * '' aws, I kno vt td it all the tilue"*l^ The dtacou's ton was telling u/.,.. about tne bees stinging his n a »i"* miuister inquired : "htunc vnii^-"! they ? Well, whaf. did >oui * ! "Step this way a moment," said thJ^?!' I '■ I'd rather whisper it io jou " *Ii j The Philadelphia " Telegraph"«„, 1 know whj old fSolomou. m*de jh« ~™B i about tbere being njthinj 'Mvrn.if*'1' I sun. Probably he took r pJl&b I paper—'Bo.-ton Post." - m m ff It was Mike's third appearance fa f M * withia thirty days, and in reply tjiu appeal for clemeucy the raagisfe^ tp'f® tiently observed: " it's : no' lUae *p. you're goud for nothing." .'* lt'a'nct shtyle to be braggiu'," letorUd'Mife'? ifyerhonueur will botry apaif ofiiniii an' s.ttp outside wid vie i 'Ji make it - vayment for j c to ho«ld tiiat opinion** Said the Denver man to hti I,wjV clergjmau: "My dear, feUow, J'« let up on driving fait hois s aud ir,s , ing variety shows. Thae'saheatitf^ dal U-atiDg around about you ("-tajr cler K yu;au replied: 'Is there:':m A That's what I've been work'irig fo'r'l if have some auui.nces n^wl" ° Its not safs to speak of a WeeterakV a large-souled woman. She coLa^L flounces out of the room, audgoliioms? the sacred fastness of 'h'er'-bfliiSlffl! never speak to tbat hatftul old tiling —so there ! Large soled, indeed I** Wheu you see a promiLent S briaht and shining light ias'ocieiyi, euergelic man of business, and all j^a of tuing, p .use in the middleialE a'jUgS aud g;ze about him wito a glway'lai his eye, you needn't tcink of apWmJ paraly.-is fie is simply trying to'ijS an errand his wife told him to do, Economy: Lieutenant -" John IL, not.c;d fur sjme time thatm;jsl)^Bgffi come from the laundry one wtektooi ' How is this ?" Johu —" * xcute nit v ~ tenant, but your shirts areaUayjaAi til that I tuuk it a pity to s'«h'd'i'^|gK || laundiy, and so I ■wearitWljL I week.1' ; - ■ '*««3| t I A sse'ff York man went.into a aojij '' carand atKed if he '.could::lwve4tieiQ p which was ih.-n occupied by'•» hj^gp owner was sitting ia the next-Vreatj lilf mau, angrily grasping his batj " > es, lake it if you are a ho^." "lV { "' near one that I guess I will 'tab"il'j]D the other. " What o'her bnsiness do yon follniilf sides preaching?" was asktdoisj; coioured man. "I epecularcaf^Kift'lH "bow sp'culate?" "Sells mk " Wh.re do .i ou get tbe chickem!1! "K's' boys fetch 'em in." "Where ,do;Lij(| them?" *'I doan know,'tab, >xSnm bu-y wid my pr achin' i!at lala'tpjail, to ax. I was a gwyne ter enquiiedts&B™ day, but a 'vival come onan- tali i;ij i my time." ' - ' i=;

How he Overreached Himself.

At Charleston I met a man from Btgs ton, N.Y., wuowas ageutifor sowtip . cotton macbioery, and almost the firstfe ■ he asked me was, ".How,do yen, m with the hotel waiter*.' " Why, I Hi' fee them, of GOursei' n'l;Tliat Bhowl green you are. I a'ni going tottopi four days, and I ;woa't.pay 'cm a m " Then you Won't gtt^mnch setviei" woa't, eh? iell; youjnat watch'iSi learn a thing or two. See that!' 'His lead half-dollar, neatlyi cwied -with and at firs' glance it teeraidtjbesiw dollar god piece/ WhenMN^wJi trunk came up stairs and "tbe two ii lingered aiound for a quarttr apiece. " twenty" appeaied to vie*-, and'hl'i " Smallest Fve got to-day,l'llie||«'! fore I go1" The Eame thing Wi* worts the table waiter, on the. waiter whsli~ up ice-water, and on several otben'«. individuals, and when we weiea'lK*; take tbe train for' Savannßli the a went down on the wagon and wesfl the depot. Two minutesr before '& pnlled out the Pew Yorker turacila African with his gripsack an [kso* will you take this coin and fqb'ffloK the boys with me!" " Y'tafL'id]* it carefully in your pocket,1-andte« it." " Sbe's dar, sah ( 41 ,1k iiiil)l? times obleeged to you." "*trer t. that.. Well, .we are off." ,^|(^Sh to Savannah1 that evening chuckled over his k^Dne^s in Vn colju-ed pupulation; bafwlutt.rtgfti. the latter city his c-iin to(:,k«"»P} were not : clear of the depot,men to* arreste ifor passiog"coui.te'if 1 U*«Ww all bis explanatinns did iotpr«y.-«f| turn to Charleston by tb.i■=■*!,••»!. , met Tiim afterwards in'ahb^i,^ told me the affair cost him 6!wifgS JV-« J), m , ■ -T. :

UNKNOWN

"MAY I open the wiudo* f« PSSBs politely inquired a gentleman mM lady on the Northern ► aw her tugging at a Bash" that m 1 •'■ covered from the preceding, ™lOli-JKi, She glared at him a moment, >*P|Ss reluctant consent. ■''^'K'mIPP "Folks can't be too speak to or accept favours WJ^iKEi marked after a long pau.-e. " That's very true,^ replied the^- - quieily. "Areyou a Boston drummer' I quired, . ■ . ■ ' "So, lam not," he answered, I "An hotelc'eik?" " A o, not an hotel clerk. , „., "lam glad of that," let a drummer or an hotel filer*'!' me. Maybe you're an actor." , " No, not an actor." ■ \ ■ s i '' 1 hat's first-claw." she «cW»V^ ing her dimples and becoming »r more conlidential. 'U|. aL? ,;, i speak to me I'd .die., iVn» »■ business 1" ,' tol # "I'm a barkeeper, aiid.l^'L West to get a territorial diTorce wife," explained the gentleman. ; "Ob, I'm so gW/\'g!s?ft,sf ' Reach down my satchel;' iv »•* ffift of whisky and a pack of ««Sjsffl| play you an odd game of Val?%idH| for sdols. a corner. 11'ke f-'fS&m men, and I know 'em whenlW" uHH' that baldheaded old duffei «mb f^jg he'e got a corkecroff, wi" y°nl ;