MISTRESS AND MAID.

A Story of St. Valentine's Day.

Felton sat in her handsomely-fur-, suuhod boudoir in one of the mansions of Hanover Square. Her luxuriant hair was Sowing in dark and wavy masses over her shoulders and far down her back. Her mmd, a pretty piqiiunte creature of the JTrench type, stood immediately behind, -braiding her mistress's hair, 'while the mistress herself sat silently watching the motions of the maid, in a glass.before her. Now and anon she heaved a sigh, which she cared not to hide from the maid, who was, as is very often the case to a certain extent, Jier confidante-fix well.

And why did she sigh, that handsome c woman—for handsome indeed she was. f Hers was that style of beauty which com- c maada instant admiration. With a face of t surpassing loveliness, with a figure of the i most dolicate contour, and with a fortune 1 which many a prince might have.envied, ] -she was still unhappy. We need not enter hero into her character, but leave it to < develop itself in the course of our short \ story, merely premising that she was a i widow of eight-and-twenty, endowed with i great personal charms and accomplishments as befitted one of her high station. It is i .almost needless to say that she went into society a good deal. Dozens of needy adventurers had in vain en deavoured, to secure so rich a prize. But Mary Felton could see through them all, and had resolved that until she could ally herself to a man of equal fortune with her self, and one who was likewise a man of rank, she would remain a widow. She was "the daughter of Sir James Carbrooke, one of the richest men in the county of Norfolk. At the age of 18 she had run away to London with a man almost old enough to be her grandfather, tempted by his vast wealth and the.mine of jewels it would secure to her ; they vere privately married, aud, .took up their abode in Hanover Square, where i she had resided ever since. For the last these years,, however, she had been alone, for her husband had died soon after , the , birth. of her only child ; and ■envious and malicious people said that Mrs Felton was not sorry when the son followed the father. It was even hinted, that she had driven the old dry-salter to his grave by the life she led him, for he was but a poor weakly thing at the best. Be that as it may, he was terribly jealous, and as he never went into society and she was at ball, route, or dinner almost every day in the week, 'tis no wonder he quietly succumbed, and left Hanover Square for a better or worse place. Having explained this much, let us return to Mary and her maid. "Rose," said Mary, all at once, "Do you think I shall have a valentine to-morrow?" " Yes, indeed, madam," replied the maid, with a slight foreign accent, " not only one, but I think you will have many." " Yes, yes, Rose," retorted Mary, petu lantly, " we know that, but one from him— you know whom I mean." " Rose cannot say, indeed, but she thinks not," and as she spoke a slight shade of pain came over the girl's face, and a tear struggled to get on to her cheek ; but she busied herself with her mistress's hair and: half averted her face, sq, that Mary had not observed the moisture in her eye. "Oh ! you think not, do you, Rose ? and pray why ?" she continued, with a slight degree of asperity. " I cannot say, ma&arh,: I cannot say," and the girl became- more agitated than before ; and as Mary looked in the glass she could see the tears coursing their way down Hose's cheeks. Thinking it was. in conse quence of her speaking rather sharply, Mary j said more mildly, '' ' - "Jtow, Ro.se, child, don't bo foolish ; you mustn't mind me ; but on this subject I am easily pained. You have now been with me seven or eight months, and I have no fault to find with you. You have been a good girl, and I have treated you more as a com panion than a servant; but there is some thing about you that I cannot make out. When you first came here you seemed to discharge your duties almost with repugnance, as though indeed you had yourself been in the habit of being waited on and made much of. But then your last mistress at Brighton tells me your parents were very humble and poor, and that when they died she herself engaged you as maid to one ot her rich pupils—to Miss Lofevre, if I mistake not, daughter of Lord March mont. Is that so, child 1" " Yes, I believe that is what she told you, but it is not correct. In the first place, my parents were not in a low station." " Why, Rose, it is the first time you have ever said so to me." "Because you never asked me, madame. Besides, I don't care to talk about my former position." " Well, child, well, I dare say you are right. You may have been in a decent position before you took to service, and therefore feel it the more when spoken to. Still, you are but nineteen, and you must Srepare for the battles of life, for you wiil oubtless meet with a gocd deal' of sharp language before your hair turns gray." Miss Felton laughed, but seeing Rose looked sad, added, "Now, Rose, put on a smiling .face. I want to talk to you about him, Rose ?" "Yes, madame?" " I love him, Rose. I have given him my love unasked and unsought; but, Rose, I must try and make Rim love me. My fortune will not tempt him, I know, but I almost think I have won him for myself alone. He has called with his sister very often of late, up to within three or four weeks ago, and 1 have noticed his eye light up when I have called upon you to fetch my things, so that I might accompany him and his sister to the Park ; and if to-morrow he sends me a valentine, I shall dare hope thatan offer will follow." ' .

Clement Bellevue was a young man of good family. It had beim a case with Mary the first night she met him—at n ball given by Lady Chopatow some months before the opening of our story. Since then sho had followed him with' a passion that nothing could restrain to ball's; dinners, or theatres ;in factf, wherever lie ■went, there went Mary Felton, for she conld always learn from1 the sister where tho brother was likely to be. At'first-Clement tried to avoid her, though many of his com rades would have given worlds for one smile from tho queen of fashion. But Bellevue was a guardsman, had been in many climes, and Keen many styles of Deaufcy. He could not bow to the stately grace of Mary's beauty, and she was Far indeed from his ideal shrine of love. He was an impulsive fellow was Clement, who always said that if ever he married it would be for love alone. Therefore tho wealth of Mrs Felton weighed not at all in the scale of his feelings towards ier, but he acknowledged to himself that ehe was a woman whom it voulft bo difficult to surpass in her own particular style of beauty. Bellevue, as a man of the world, ■could not fail to see that he had made an impression, quite unsought by himself. As he could not reciprocate he avoided her society as much as possible, though not directly. He never led her to believe he cared" for her until one afternoon when his sister called upon her ■and compelled biro to accompany her.

And then it was for- the first time that a "isible smile of more than pleasure passed across his handsome faoe. Mary had asked Miss Bellevue whether they should walk in he park, and Bellevue was called upon as an escort. It was then that a smile of Measure had lighted up his eye and coloured iis cheek. On several subsequent occasions ;he same thing had occurred, until Mary aughed away her fears, and believed he was only waiting an opportunity to declare his passion ; and, as her wealth was great, for fear he should think she might misjudge his motives, she did her best to let him see that she was not indifferent to him. But instead of her suit advancing it appeared to recede, for during the last few visits of Bellevue, and his sister,' the former appeared to have, lost much of that animation which had dis tinguished him on his previous visits. : Now, although Mary was consumed with the fires of love, when he became cool she became' frigid, and so things were at the opening" of our story. She did not, however, give all thoughts of him up, and now on the ere of St: Valentine's Day she hoped to receive a lore missive as an earnest of his wish to. possess her heart and hand. '.••"•

A few words as to the captain's line of conduct towards. Mary which had led that gloriously statuesque widow to think her-, self not unfavoured by him. Certainly the captain did not purposely act with the in tention of deceiving her, and as soon as he discovered he had placed himself in o false position, he became cold and reserved, and this to such a degree that even the ardent love of the widow took flight under the calm exterior of her marble countenance.

Having devoted so much time and space to Mary Felton, it is time we said a few words about the real heroine of our story who has been dreadfully neglected hitherto. Well, then, to begin with, we must let the reader know that instead of being des perately in love with the widow, Captain jßellevue's affections were centred upon her maid, Rose, " whom we will now take the opportunity 'of .more fully describing. She was scarcely 19 years of age, fair and petite, with sweet blue eyes, and flaxen air. No need to go into particulars'.lS' to the' chata'cter of her features ; suffice.it to say she was an exqui sitely beauilf ul blonde, somewhat sedate looking, and with her hair worn in such a way as to least set off her charms, cherry lips, pearly teeth, rose of damask, &c, &c, may help to heighten the effect. Her hands and feet were delicately shaped, while her form was simply faultless.

. Once upon a time, and not so very long ago, Rose had been a merry-hearted girl but not while in the service of Mrs Felton, and of late she had appeared more serioui than ever. The fact is she had got i woman's complaint—she was in love. Anc with whom ?do we imagine; why whom of course, but Captain Bellevue, for is he not to be our hero, as already she is our heroine, not that the Captain knew it—no she would have died before that. Nor dii she lore like her mistress without that love being ardently, passionately sought. Bu the approaches of Captain Bellevue hat been restrained; his advances declined his affection icily thrust back.

And yet we have said she loved him. But in her position how could she acknowledge it, and to be other than his wife, or that he for one moment, would wish otherwise never crossed her mind. Neither must the Captain be misjudged, for although he hat spoken to Rose of love no word ' had passec his lips that might not have been utteret by the most gallant gentleman in Europe to his royal lady love.

Read the explanation,

When Bellevue first' accompanied his sister to Mary Felton's he did so very un willingly, for he wished to escape the toils of that lovely woman. It was on this first visit that Mary had proposed the walk in the park, and then it was that Rose was called upon to fetch the bonnet and shawl. No sooner did Bellevue see her than a shock like a spark of electricity went, through him, and his face lighted up with a flush of pleasure which did not escape the watchful eyes of Mary, who, however, made a slight mistake as to its origin. She thought it was called forth by her request for him to escort her and his sister to the park. But Clement Bellevue was taking llose in with all his eyes, and while a feel ing akin to love at first sight crept, or rather rushed over him, he felt that it was not so; for he recognised in Rose a face ho had seen before. And then he carried his memory back almost day by day, week by week, month by month, and year by year, but he could not solve the riddle where he had before seen her. During the walk in the park he was unusually absent-minded, and it was in vain that both his sister and the widow tried to rally him. After some hours' study he had cleared up orie point. He felt certain they had met in France; the period, about three years before ; and he was likewise certain that upon that occa sion she had occupied a very different posi tion from the one she now held. But puzzle his brain as he might, he could not d»fine that position. Determined to be set at rest on the point, he made it his business—a labour of love—to call at Han over Square, when he knew the widow was from home. He told the servant to send Rose to him ; and the maid came in trembling from head to foot, for well she knew the handsome gentleman, thongh it was some three or four years since the time of their last meeting. But ever since that night on which she had danced with him under her father's roof in Paris she had never once forgotten him, for on that to her eventful night—they had half exchanged vows. After that she had not seen him again, for he was called away the next day to the bedside of his dying mother in London ; and what with grief at his loss and his subsequent career abroad fighting his country's battles,-the image of poor Rose had quite faded away. But no sooner did he behold her at the residence of Mary Felton than it returned as originally graven on his heart; though under what circum stances he had met her he conld not call to mind. '

"Rose," said he to her kindly when she entered, " do: not'"tremble so, I mean you no harm ; but there is! some mystery about you which I feel I" must'have explained ; what is your hame J" "Rbse Harvey." ' ' ''■ -.'" ' ' ■--'" "That is the'name you go by here, I know'; but what is your real name ?" "Rose Havvey is my name here. I have no other—now." • ""

"Now. Then you had another. ■We have met before, Rose—in France, was it wot?" ;- '■:■-

" I have been in France, sir; I was there when I was young—you may perhaps have seen me there."

"Perhaps? I have seen you there. Would to Heaven I could recollect under what circumstances ; but very different from these lam sure. But, Rose, tell me, I pray you, for my future happiness may depend upon it—what is your real name, and what were the circumstances under which we met ?" " I cannot, do not ask me, I pray," and Rose burst into tears. "Oh, sir, I pray you do not ask me. When lost we met it was under—"

"Yes? yes?" interrogated Bellevue, finding she could go no further. •>■ Rose now sobbed violently at the recollec tion of her former happy days, and would have abruptly quitted the room had not Bellevue detained her.

'^One moment, Rose, I have tried my utmost, fl have ransacked .my brain'inces santly to try and find out how, and when we last met. All in vain, but it does not matter : I know that you are good and beautiful. I have a fortune of my own, or shall have in four months from this time, nd I now ask you Rose, dear, whether you vill be my wife. I love you truly, and, jelieve me, will do my utmost ""

" Sir, I must not stay to hear this, you mow not what you are saying—marry a ervant, a beggar, never !" and poor Rose again burst into tears, and would this time lave rushed from the room, but he again de fined her and seized her hands, and pressed' hem earnestly. As he did so a light flashed upon his mind, for he'drew himself back in a reflective attitude, and thon gazing upon: iis fair prisoner's hands, still partially held n his own, he exclaimed joyously :— " I have it ! I have it ! I never saw nor elt two such hands in my life; it is, yes, it is Rose de Camille—-" ,

" Pray do not mention that name if you ove me—Oh what am I say ing—excuse me, '. don't know what I am doing." "I'll not only excuse you, but I'll bless you," exclaimed the Captain, and at the same time he embraced her ardently in spite of her opposition—though her little heart jeat with a secret joy.

" What a dolt I must have been hot to tiave thought of that before; and you, my little wifey, too, with whom I exchanged vows, how is Monsieur le Baron '! Oh ! poor girl ! 1 see ; but how comes it that I find you in this position, dearest?"

"You must not uall me by that name." A moment's pause. " After tho revolution my father's estates were confiscated, and we were compelled to escape to England. About eighteen months ago he died; We were very poor, and after the funeral 1 found I should be compelled to get my living as best I could. I was first a teacher in a young ladies' .seminary at Brighton ; but 1 did not like the life the mistress let] me, so I came here as lady's-maid and com panion to Mrs Felton. I have written a petition to the Emperor asking him to re store me our estates, but I have received no reply, and so see no chance of ever bettering my position." , . " But I do," 'said the Captain'; "aH doubt is now removed from my mind, anc being satisfied that you are of good birth and education, we wiH at once be married and you shall be acknowledged to th< world as my wife.'

" Clement—Captain—Sir, it cannot be it can never be, your offer is r««st noble but I can never accept it. Throw you affections upon my mistress, who loves you dearly, and, as for me, when you are married i will go back to France " "Never! Rose; you must relent anc bid me hope. As soon as your mistress re turns I will tell her your history, and you must at once leave this place and take up your abode with my sister."

"Now, Captain Bellevue, hear mo," sait Rose, resolutely, but with trembling lip ant pallid cheek ; "no matter in what relation we might once have stood towards eacl other, we must henceforth be as strangers I am firm, and I tell you this, that if you once mention, or even hint at my origin to my mistress, I leave London never to return As for any attempt on your part to change my resolution with regard to yourself, i would be useless ; and though I thank you sincerely for your offer, I am compelled to decline the honour you would confer upon me in order to avert the disgrace it woult bring upon yourself. Had I been Rose d Camille, daughter of Baron de Camille, in possession ofhis rights, the case might hay been different. As things are, my decision is irrevocable. Captain Bellevue, I pra you recollect my words. Good morning ! And Rose abruptly quitted the room.

After this. Captain Bellevue did not visit the house so often as before, and remember ing the words about Mary's love for him, he became cooler in his demeanour towards that lady, determined not to give her the slightest hope of ever inspiring him withlove. Since he had again seen Rose he had set his heart upon having her in marriage, and her only. He could understand her feeling, and appreciate them. He turned over in his head many sehemesfor putting her into possession of wealth, when he came into his for tune, so that she might think herself his equal in a worldly point of view. He also wrote to a friend of his in military corunand in France, vrhose duties placed him near the Emperor. To this friend he confided the whole facts of the case, and besought him to use his best influence with hislmperial master to induce him to restore the estates of the late Baron de Camille to his daughter. In the meanwhile, Clement kept aloof from Hanover Square, but occasionally sent letters to Rose under cover of the house keeper, and she would have been less than a woman had she declined to read them. True, she never replied ; but then he knew his protestations of love and faith had reached her, and it gave him infinite joy. As stated, it was tho 13th of February, and Mary Felton and Rose were in the boudoir. And while we have been running on about the different characters of our tale Rose has finished her lady's hair, and the lady has taken a novel and lazily com menced to read ; but soon getting tired of this, she throws the book on one side and again sighs heavily. " Rose ?" "Yes, madame?" "If I don't receive one from him to morrow, much and deeply as I love him, I'll wringe his image from my heart and think of him no more. But, oh, Rose, Ido love him, though I ought to be ashamed to say that of a man who had not sought my love." And the strong woman fairly broke down and wept.

Rose pitied her mistress, while at the same time a pleased nutter ran through her when Mary said she would think of him no more. . -'

They sat some time longer, mistress and maid, and Mary again essayed to read, but she threw down the book impatiently and retired to rest, and Rose afterwards followed her example. , ,

Next morning daVned with a cloudless sky, and young ladies 'were in a flutter of delight, for was it not St. Valentine's morn, and such a morn! the sun shone brightly from out the blue ethereal heavens, and: the sparrows sang gaily on the housetops as they twitted from roof to vodf and from place to place in search of the food we have all heard so much about in the shape of the early worm. The widow received at '. least' a dozen handsome valentines', all of which she tossed impatiently aside, for there was none in the handwriting of Bellevue ; and as the lovely woman retired to her boudoir in the afternoon to dress, she bit her lip until her teeth were stained with blood. Oh, how majestic looked that woman now, as she stood before her glass with hair dishevelled and bust half exposed, with flashing eyes and dilated nostrils. She seemed indeed a perfect incarnation of some beauteous goddess preparing for revenge; and as her lips quivered, and she dashed her clenched hand down upon the dressing table shivering more than one of her per fumery bottles, no beholder would have cared to risk her fury. " • ■ ' • .

As her eyes wandered round the apart ment they lighted on aletter lying on the

floor. She picked it up. It was addressed to Migs Rose Harvey. It had not been opened, and as she gazed upon it her eyeß lashed more fiercely than ever, for sho recognised the handwriting of Captain Bellevue. To tear it open and read tho contents was the work of but a few seconds.

At one corner of the note a small white rose was raised upon a pink ground, while at the opposite corner was a miniature red camilia, both being ; perfect flowers, though rather crushed and bruised. Between the Sowers_2were the arms and crest of the House of Bellevue; the note ran as fol-; lows :— ".: '■' ■'' ■•-■'■■ '*'"' • ■.' i

'' Clement's Valentine to his Rosa. ' My sweet, white, and spotless Rose, —You' con refuse me no longer. An event his' occurred which will i Wnow gird you joy,' as it gives me supreme happiness,' as I may now come and claim you for ray bride.' If restored to your own you haro gaid the barrier would be removed. Restitution has been made, and I will call upon you this evening with tho documents restoring your fortune and estates, and a special messenger frem the Emperor, and claim my reward; prepare to receive me, not as before, bub as your future husband.— Yours for ever, Clement."

The reader's face was pale before ; but when she saw this it turned to a deadly white, and she would have fallen had she not supported herself against the table. For a moment she remained still, and then flew to the bell.rope, and pulled it with a violence that was sufficient to have broken nine out of ten. , .

A servant rushed into tho room aft'rightedly, and seeing her mistress with her face deadly pale, she rau to the dressing table and brought her the etui de cologne. " Emmets, a letter camo this morning for Rose which sho has not received. \Vho took it in ? Do you know }■'

" The housekeeper, I believe." " Send her to me directly." ■...,! In a few minutes Mrs Hopkins appeared, in a terrible state of apprehension. "Hopkins, look at this letter. Have yoii seen it before ?", "I have, mam." "When1;" ~..; ~ , ..■,.. . '■. | "This morning." '■How did yougetit?" " It was brought to me." wTo you ! 'What!' addressed to yon V" " Addressed to Miss Harvey, under cuver to me."

*• Who brought it ?" Mrs Hopkins hesitated. " Speak at once, I command yon I" ; " Captain Bellevue's tijrei\" " Is this the first he hat brought?" The old lady seemed lus* inclined to answer this question than the other.

" Dare you hesitate !" almost shrieked the widow.

" No, it is not the first." " How many have been brought ol together?"

"About nine." " Bxtending over what time ?" " Ever since Captain Bellevuo first visited you." " That will do, you may go ; and re member you quit this house to-nigh|b." " To-night! and I have served you so faithfully "

" You heard what I said. Go to Winter in half an hour; he will pay you your money, as well as an extra quarter in lieu of notice. Now leave the room, and quit the house before 7 to-night, or I will have you thrust into the street. Go !"

The mistress commanded this bo fiercely that the poor housekeeper at once quitted the room, very glad to make her escape with whole bones, for her mistress appeared a human tigress at that moment.

The widow threw a loose cloak over her shoulders and made her way to Rose's chamber. On the drawers stood a small work-box. This Mary opened without a moment's hesitation. Within was lying a small packet of letters secured with blue ribbon. She cared not to whom they be longed, but at once proceeded to read' them through; nor did she stop until she had read the last. Her passion had by this time increased tenfold, for the letters were couched in the most affectionate terms. They were from Captain Bellevue to Hose. She had just finished, reading when her maid entered. She saw what her mistress was doing, and turned pale. Neither spoke for nearly a minute, but stood gazing upon each other, Mary with the fieroe and angry glare of a thwarted rival. At length Bose said,

" Madam, I must request that you will deliver up to me a letter which 1 dropped in thejboudoir a short time ago, and which you picked up."

And now the long pent-up fury of the passionate woman burst foith.

" Girl ! wretch ! hypocrite ! viper ! worm that youare, whom I could crush with one touch b£ my heel! And has it come to this, that a man whom I love should so debase himself as to enter into'an intrigue with the like of yon—a- thing without rag or food that is not found her. You artful, hateful, bold, bad girl, who would have thought you were 80 lost to all sense of honour—so be come a curse to woman—a thing so mean and debased that even men will spurn you—

" Stay, madam, I command you ! A servant I may be, but lam no menial—a worm- 1 may be, but I am no viper. ■ And as for loemg my honour, madam, if you have read those letters—and I trust for your own sake you have nofc-i-you will see that I possess as much honour and purity as yourself, neither am I bold or base born —perhaps, madam, I am the better born of the two." .

" If you please; ma'am, Captain Bellevue has called and wishes to see Miss Rose par ticulary, and at once."

" Miss Rose, indeed ! Dare he insult me in my own house ? " This is too much !"

Saying which, she i;ushed into the library, where she found Captain Bellevue arid a strange gentleman of foreign appearanoo standing by the window.

" " What means' this intrusion, gentlemen ? What --." "■■ ' '•

" It means '-—,"

. "Silence, sir !•■ I cannot, listen to you Oh,,.thatl had a.brother,sir, to callyou out, or horsewhip you; but thank Heaven, I have escaped from one with your base and low born menial tastes.'' , • . ■

" Miss Rose is no low-born, madame. On the contrary, I'bee to inform you that she is the daughter of the iate Baron deCamille, who was a general in the Royal Army before the revolution. His estates were, like many others, confiscated when his Government was overthrown; and he shortly afterwards died in London. lam happy to say, madame, that the Emperor has been pleased to restore the said estates and all belonging to them to the Baron's only surviving child, Rose de Camille-r " ;

A loud shriek prevented him getting any further, and the next instant Rose, throwing off all her former reserve, and regardless of those present, rushed into Bellevue'a arms, and was folded to his heart.

An anonymous article—A baby before it is christened. .i An innocent old ' farmer weighed the butter he sold to his grocer with pound bars of soap that he bought of him, and it turhed out that the butter fell short three i ounces to the pound ; but the grocer didn't j make a public row over it. r ; - '•"'. ' I

;. 23, ISS4.

6



TV U B L T C N Q*T I"C E. Notice is hereby given that the Waitakbrei West Highway ltoad Board intend to stop part of the ltoad leading from Mound Springs by Spring Hill to Wairiri. Tho Road proposed to bo stopped adjoins Allotment No. 4, Waitakeroi West, and is immediately opposite tho house and premises of John Smyth. Tho plans o£ tho proposed nit orations are on view at the Office of the Board. Mr W. Buchanan^ resi dence, Waitakeroi Railway Station. # J NO. SMYTH, ■ .-•'■ Chairman Waiiakurei West Highway Board VTORTHERN OMNIBUS COMPANY JlI ' (LIMITED). ■ NEW NORTH ROAD TIME-TABLE, on andi after MONDAY, December 17th, 1883 ;— Auckland to Mt. Albert Avondalo and Mt. Al and Avondale. Bert to Auckland. Leave Union Bunk: Leavo Avondale: 7 a.m. <f-.<-.:■-. ■--•-. 7.55 a.m. 10.15 „ 8.30 „ 12.15 p.m. 11.30 „ *LSO ~ ' t2.25p.m. 4.15 „ 3.15 „ 5.15 „ 5.30 „ "To Mt. Albert only. tFrom Mt. Albert only.. SATURDAYS. i i,. 7 a-m. 7.55 a.m. . *10.15 „ 8.30 „ 1,10 p.m. f11.15 „ '2.30 „ 2.30 p.ra. 4 5 „ 10.30 „ 5.30 ~ 11 .. ti1.15 .. •For Mt. Albert only. tFrom Mt. Alhert only.. Auckland to New New Lynn to Auck- Lynn. land. 2.15 p.m. 7.45 a.m. 516 „ 3 p.m. SATURDAYS. i.3op.m. 7.15 a.m. 10.36 „ 4.50 p.m. GREAT NORTH ROAD. Auckland and Arch Hill. Leave National Bank. Leave Arch Hill. 7.30 a.ni. 8.15 a.m. 9 „ 9.30 „ 10.15 „ 9.15 „ 11.45 ~ 11 1 p.m. 12.25 p.m. 1.45 ~ 1.35 „ 2.15 „ 3 „ 3.45 „ *3.50 „ 5.5 .. 4.20 „ *5.30 „ 5.45 „ 0.30 ... 7 „ Saturday Nights Only. Saturday Nights OnV. 8.30 p.m. 9.15 p.m. 10 10.30 „ An Omnibus will run from Provincial Lunatic I Asylum m i uokland at 9.25 a.m., and *3.30 p.m.. and Iron. Auckland (National Bank) to Asylum 1.1 ■. m.d 5.30 p.m. i Also, mi Omnibus will run from Avondale to A'ukl-.iie n:. 9 a.ni„ and from Auckland I.N'.itional itiiiik) to Avondale 5.30 p.m. Saturday Nights oni.v; Avondale to Auckland U p.m.;: Auckland io Avondale 10.30 p.m.:' '■ - ■ ■ ' AS'ill i.i.: run on Si;.- n rda vs. TTj'OLLIS & CO S LINE or COACHES. Leave Onkiii-xga Leave AUCKLAND (Manukau Hotel). (Greyhound Hotel).. -.0 a.m. n 9.46a.rn. 8.30 a.m. 2 10.1' a.m. 9.0 n.in. - ll.fta.m. 9.45 a.m. z~ '1 5 p.m. l.Boh.in. -Z 1.0 p.m. 11.15 Mil. -i^ 2.i'p.m. i:!.i 'p.m. tc-i- 2.15 p.m. .v p.m. j;-: 3.15 p.m. !... i-..m Kxj 4. p.m. --■'■■ i..ii . P=<o 4.30 p.m. 3.0 p.m. <;fc.tc 5.0 p.m. 4.0 i P-m ---5. IP p.m. wS^ 7.0 p.m. Saturday^. .0 p.m. -3^W Saturdays, 10 p.m.. 6.30 p.m. o£W 11 p.m. Monday, 6.0 p.m. gss2 Mondays, 11.0 p.m. Sundays. -eKs* Sundays: 8.30 a.ra. 10.0 a.m. 12 noon 2.0 p.m. 1.3U p.m. 6.0 p.m. Coaches for Special Trips, Brakes, Buggies, and Saddle Horses for hire, at Manukau Stables, Lower ijuoen-Btreet, Onehunga. MOLLIS fe CO.. Proprietors. "DAINBRIDGE'S TIME TABLE. From Union Bank—22 minutes past the hour ■ and 23 minutes to the hour. From TnK Three Lamps—7 minutes to the hour, and every hour. Night Trips from Town—4-past 8, l-past 9, i-past 10, and i-past 11. From Three Lamps— 8, 9,10, 11. i From Union Bank to Shf.lly Beach—7 minutes past 9, 7 minutes past 11,7 n-inutes past 2, 7 minutes past i. 7 minutes past 5, 23 minutes paste, and 37 minutes past 7. From Sheii.i Beach—B.3o ami., 8.45 a.m., , 10.30 a.m., L3O p.m., 3.30 p.m., 4.30 pan., and 7.15 p.m. Saturdays from Shelly Beach—B.3o a-m,' . 8.45 a.m., M.S'.! a-ni., 12.30 p.m. From Union , Hank—9.7 a.m. '1.7 a.m. and 1.7 p.m. . mELEGRAPH LINE OF COACHES. IMPORTANT NOTICE TO TOURISTS AND OTHERS. W. K. Carter begs to announce that on and i after TUESDAY. 2<Jth January. 1881, he will Run a Coach through to the Hot Lakes, Ohine mutu (convej-ing Passengers and Parcels), leav ing Cambridge on TUESDAYS and THURS DAYS, at "a.m., returning from the Lakes on : WEDNESDAYS and FRIDAYS, at 7 am. Single Fares. £1 15s; or Return Tickets, avail able for one week after date of issue, £3. AH Passengers to be Booked at the Office before leaving Buggies and Saddle Horses, with experienced drivers, to order on the shortest notice. Orders by Telegram or Letter promptly attended to, Cambridge. January 23, 1884. ~D OVAL MAIL LINE OF COACHES ALTERATION OF TIME-TABLE. Ihe Royal Mail Coach (carrying passengers) will, on and after 6th October, 1883. and until further notice, run to the following TIME • table :— Leave Cambridge for Hamilton Junction Rail way Station daily at 8.15 a.m.; returning from Station to Cambridge on arrival of Train from 1 Auckland. Leave Hamilton for Te Aroha on Mondays Wednesdays, and Fridays on arrival of Train from Auckland; returning from Te Aroha on Tuesdayu, Thursdays, and Saturdays, at 7 a.m. catching tho 2 o'clock Train at Hamilton Junc tion for Auckland. Booking Offices : Gwynne's Hotel, Hamilton West; Coleman a Hotel, T<i Aroha; and at my Premises, Kirk wood . and Lake-streets, Cambridge. W. K. CARTER, Proprietor Cambridge. October 1883. "VTEW ZEALAND INSURANCE; JJi COMPANY (FIRE AND MARINE). Capital £1,000,000. Paid-up and Rese rvo Funds £400,000. Protection from FIRE or MARINE LOSS , Can be Effected in this Company. CLAIMS MET WITH PROMPTITUDE AND LIBERALITY. JAMES BUTTLE, Manager. ' /"GOVERNMENT LIFE INSURANCE. ' Head Office i PROVINCIAL BUDMHNGS, Wellington. mik only new zealand lite ootids, GOVERNMENT SECURITY.1 !■!:.. ir't i/ ---i ■ ' ' MUTUAL LNSURANCBy ' ' LOWEST PREMIUMS. The Ordinary , Branch Offers an Insurance ot i £1,200 at the premium charged elsewhere i * for £1,000, equivalent to An Immediate Bonus of £200, . , In addition to Full Participation in Proflta. . WORKMAN'S INSURANCE, ; Specially provided for in the INDUSTRIAL BRANCH. | PoLicncs Issued from £5 Upwards, wttb. IN PROFITS."B» PREMIUMS PAYABLE WEEKLY. For which a Collector will call. SPECIAL TABLES FOR CHILDREir. Policies of £20 and Upwards, after Threa Years, can bo surrendered for Cash, or for a Free Policy. —i " LIBERAL REGULATIONS. NOTE.—The Government not only brings In surance within the reach of nearly every man, woman, and child in the community, but pro vides the description of polioy and mode of pay ment best suited to the requirements of each. j D. V "•"""" -'"•: Commisshw"""* ---\ X YOUNG, Family Grocer, Shortlarid »tP street, Auckland