A WOMAN'S FAITH: OR, THE Mystery of a Bunch of Pansies.

By CHARLES T, MANNERS,

AUTHOR 01?

"The Lord of Lyle," "Octavia's Prf.de," "The Blcnkamo Emeralds," "The Flaw in tho Dia_ond," "Dragging Ltlm Down," "ASilver Brand," &c„ &c.

CHAPTER XXII,

KFFECT OF A LETTER,

The Dowager Mildmay allowed no change

in tho stately routine of their daily life,

Sho forced herself to seem as serene and cheerful as tho lightest-hearted maid in her

service, but the lines on her forehead deepened, and a close observer might have detected a nervous tremor of tho lips that all her efforts could not suppress. She had sent for the oldest-member of the legal firm in whose hands had rested the Mildmay interests for three generations, nt least, and been -c losoted alone with him for several hour.. und when she came out to say good-hy to him, after his hasty lunch before _ hurried departure, she looked worn and grave. ' ■ Your ladyship needs no assurance, I that I Will do my very best in the Mildmsv interest," said tho white-haired ©Id barrister and faithful friend, in a low . voice, as ho bent a moment over tho thin i White hand she had extended in parting, i "andyotin justico to myself I must ask you to remombor how I protested against this course, and was o\-Oituleu. I am not afraid but I can keep Sir Frederic at bay, but when he comos to putting it into a law yer . hands, that _s another thing, I assure you. Yott must bo very careful to conciliate Sir Frederic, madam, if your; wishes still remain unchanged." Tho dowager sighed softly, and turned back to the littlo parlour where Lady Hor tense was sitting listlessly, with the little fingers, once so restless and b\.sy, looked idly together, aud the sad, dull eyes fixed on vacancy. The sight smote n now pang upon tho heart already aching with grief. Sno wont up to her, r.nd kissed her fondly, and the girl clung to her with a nerVous agitation that was not reassuring to tho othor's anxiety, '■' My darling, I thought you wore going to cut flowers for my vasos." "Do you want mo to do it very much, grandmamma! I told Thomas he had bet ter. I hoped you would not mind." "But, dear child, it would do you good to stir about. And you used to be so happy with tho flowers."

A shiver wn through tho slender figure; the little hands locked themselves together with a tragic gesture. " I cannot bear to see them now, grand mother -, thoy are full of ghosts that scare and sicken me."

Another heartfelt sigh from the dowager, but sho made a b__l\ _ effort to hide ner. alarm, and taking both hands in hers, stroking theft, softly while she talked, she said, earnestly, " Bi.'., my dear Hortense, you promised tne X) try and overcome this idle sorrow. And you are yielding to it, nursing it now. __)o you forget Col. Delamero . dinner party is to-day, and we have promised to attend ?" " Oh, grandmamma !" with a piteous little cry, " how can I? how can I ?" "Because you are a Mildmay, and have tho old heroic blood in your veins, you can, and will," returned the elder lady, firmly. " Wo must both be there, and show no sign that can be talked about." " But—but," stammered Hortense, " he will be there. Oh, I cannot meet him calmly, grandma. The Mildmay blood has de generated in me. This is something I can not do. Lot me stay at home, please let me stay at home." "And set the flying rumours to a dead certainty ? Noj no, Hortense. After you have thought about it you will see it is in exorable that we attend thiß party. If for nothing else we must be there to keep Ted' in order. Set your mind at ease about Mr Earle. I must own ho has behaved well. He sent me a card saying that imperative business should call him to Edinburgh, and wo need not fear meeting him at any of our engagements this week. I will have no thing outwardly changed until I am certain what is right and best. Come, my dear, you must settle about your dress, and you shall select your jewels from my casket. If flowers distress you, you need not wear them. My darling, my darling, I will spare you overy way I can, but we must both think of the family honour, and its high name, first of all, and above all." " I am wondering if it would be a do eerved retribution, grandma, if the Mild may pride turned out to be a cruel Moloch accepting precious sacrifices at a false altar," murmured Hortense. But she rose obediently, and followed up stairs to the grand wardrobes, and tried to have an interest, while the dressing-maid laid out the dinner costume, and chattered with the dowager concerning which should be worn with it-simple pearls, or the opal and ruby set. , The wily French girl thought she had gained the day when she said, in triumph ant conclusion : " I do not forget what Monsieur said one day It was so trite it made a deep im pression. ' She is a tiny atom, I know, he said, ' but it is of the fire-fly, and humming bird pattern, and she can wear brilliant tints and flashing gems, and seem born to them. Nothing will make her look over dressed or gorgeous.' He is a fine observer, my lady, is Monsieur Earle.' Tho dowager made some careless answer, but Hortense stood like one frozen. " My dear child," whispered tho dowager when the maid obeyed her errand to the wardrobe, "don't wear such a face, 1 beg. Will you have even the servants here)pity ins you for a discarded love-sick girl ? The remark served her meaning. Lady Hortense flußhed haughtily, and rousing her spirits, began talking with seeming gayety and interest. But the dowager did not venture to leave her alone. Later-in the day they were sitting in Lady Mildmay s room together, when Thomas who had driven the old lawyer home, sought audience a letter, my lady, that Mr Tul kinhorn said was to be given to you directly I a.rived home. I believe it's something he found waiting at his. office. He was very particular I sTiould bring it myself. *Udy Mildmay held out her hand, and without much expression of interest,when she saw the tremulous writing was the old lawyer's own chiroeraphy. "Something he Forgot to say, I presume. But she had scarcely read aline when a ghastly pallor spread over her face, a low, lasping groan broke from her parted hps, and she sank back in tho chair a helpless h6" PGrandma! oh, grandma!" cried Hor tense, springing to her assistance in wild had already given three sharp pulls to the bell, which Brought thet dow ager's own maid with tho housekeeper at _.hey were taking her to her bod when she opened hor eyes and stretched out her hand, articulating feebly : " The letter, Hortense—tako care ol the And Lady Hortense lifted the letter from the floor, where it had dropped unheeded, ~.._. .nldine-itup, put it into tho clammy Sirs S dosed over it with a desper- wero promptly administered, andina short time the lady declared her dre« for the Delameres, as a matter of Oh, grandmamma," implored Hortense, v t,_f for lam quite restored. And, Cd£_riSwewthe velvet and point ii You have so often coaxed me in vain, to day I will hi^nour you. You may make metVne as you please. I will show them MX*S d t_at eyhi_h 8Sd c bngb. manner impressed them mo°re than Reread &m beneath the dres __£_SnEd. * the stateliest toilet :ss=k%»_nd weaken, again my self," muttered the gWjJfI&S STK» tbdS/inroyifaion." ::„_..^!nd^a dsTeTtingmvtho U ghta rubies flash 1"

" Oh, grandmamma, what strange, un canny thing is going to happen . I feel it most of all when I look at you. It seems as if the air were charged with some strange eloctric force that would presently precipi tate tho thunderbolt or the whirlwind. What is 'coming." cried out Hertense, shivering in nervous excitement. The dowager glanced across the room to see that the maid was out of hearing, then Bhe suddenly stooped her tall figure to the slenderlittlecreaturewiththatsweet, sorrow ful, distressed face, and laying both haft_s on tho bright head, she said, solemnly .. " What Heaven chooses to send is coming, Hortense, my child. I shall strive hie longer. My poor intelligence is too W_a!_ and limited for tho task, and I __ going to abdicato from all i-l.!'n>g ol fate hencefor ward."

"Ah 1 if _ie know what Heaven would send I' went on the girl, drearily. " God is merciful. Take heart, my darling. Perhaps out of broken hopo . humiliated pride, oven out of guilt and shame, may come truer happiness. So the perfect blossom crowns in its golden white ness thn black mud and stagnant water yonder in the gardener's lily pond. So the tempest and the hurricane clear the ftlff o. foul miasmas. God only know . \\\f child, and I—l bow, resigned." There wm _>. .'.uchlng solemnity in her word., tt.vd Hortense, with her quick, mag netic nature, . felt out their meaning, although hor understanding could not com prehend them. "Dear grandmother I" said she* softly kissing the sweet old stately face. "We aro two lone Mildmay.., but wo MH not belie our ancestors this afternoon. VV- will exact, ond win, our dues." " Thank yoiv, H.Oi*_-S-_. I knew I could rely upon yott. Now you may order tho carriage. And tho words wero not empty boost-

ing, I Tho dinner-party had atito.vg its guests ono of unusual dignity. tl.o Old DiYk'o Of Ellsniore, who happened to bo ti_v.Hi.lg through tho place, _ii_d wits only too well pleased to renew his -icdn-fttl-tanco with a relative's husband, "What woftuerfully exquisito women this Miktinay family contributes to English ! society!" said his graco to Mrs Dolamoro, so that halt the company hoard it. "We used to say that there never hatt beon another such instance of voitr ideal, high bred perfection as tho tody Mildmay ; but horo is the charming granddaughter pro misinjr to disputo tho palm with nor, while tho elder lady has not lost » singlo titho of hor fascinations that I can see, A wonder ful race ! Such a public misfortune that Sir Richard died by that mieerablo acci dent ! Hum ! —yes—Sir Frederick is quito of another branch. Ono don't need to bo told that. He's of ordinary flesh and blood like tho rest of us; but thoso genuino Mild mays have some ethereal lire in thoir making-up." Never, indeed, had parts been moro ad mirably played. Hortenso took inspiration from every glance toward the gracious, serene face with which her grandmother sat, tho centre of a delighted group of the highest and noblost present, and thrilled a littlo under the proud consciousness that she herself deserved to claim relationship. Throughout tho entertainment then she bore herself a Mildmay, and put away tho identity and the sorrows of simplo Hortense.

Sir Frederic was there, and had heard the duke's comment, and was a good deal put out by the conclusion, and he showed it in the sulky fashion that had once been Hortenso's jest and reproach.

"Humph ! high and mighty it may bo I" he muttered. " But aU things are not as immaculate as they look. Whitod .-.pulchres are heard of in these latter days, too."

And he said to Hortenso, authorita tively : "I'm going to call at tho Terrace. I shall follow you home. I havo something to say to you and your grandmother that will not be delayed any longer. Please to say so to her for me. She is so hedged about with dignity I cannot get to her myself." She only trusted herself to bow in answer, and turned with a tranquil smilo to listen to tho courteous address of the gentleman beside her. But in hor heart she was wondering if it would never be over.

She said so when they wero putting on :heir wraps. "It has seemed so long, grandmamma, as f it would never ond."

"It has?'1 returned the dowagor, in a dreary voice. "Why, tho sands have ran so swiftly with mo that I havo longed to turn the glass back. Wero you suffering, my darling? lam a selfish, vain, old creature to havo enjoyed it; but I have. Well, well, forgive it, dear, because it is the last. I told you 1 should abdicate royally. Andl think I have."

"Ted is to follow us," said Hortenso, wearily, and she gave his message. The dowagor passed her hand across hor forehead and smiled, drearily. " Yes, I know. The glory has fled, the conflict and the humiliation come. I shall never wear these emeralds again, Hortenso. Don't think it was so vory foolish in me to day !" " Dear grandmother, I oould never think that. Indeed, it seems to me I have no interest to think of anything now."

" Oh, my child, you are so young, and have so many yearß before you. But hush I here comes poor Ted. Ah, yes, Sir Frederic, you shall have the honour—certainly. This has been a charming entertainment— a day to be remembered. You have givon us some very pleasant hours, colonel. Mrs Delamere, I leavo my blessing behind with my adieu." And still smiling graciously, with erect head and commanding presence to the last, the dowager left the gay scene, and was as sisted into hor carriage by Sir Frederic and the host himself. "Will you receive me shortly?" asked Sir Frederic, ere he closed the door. "I shall drive that way immediately. " Not to-night. lam hardly equal to any more excitement to-night. But to-morrow, any time you say." " Let it be early, then. I assure you I am no longer to bo trifled with," was the young man's stiff rejoinder. " I don't like your tone, mydear Frederic, but I am in the humour to pardon small misdemeanours." . "Perhaps I shall say differently in refer ence to larger ones," he said, daringly. She gave him one look, beneath which he blanched and coloured. The next instant she stretched out her hand and said, cordially: " Ted, my good Ted, don't let us quarrel to-night, even by looks." The poor stupid fellow's face brightened. He took it as a proof of her desire to con ciliate him, and smiling beyond her he said: ■ , _, ~ " Good-night, dearest Hortense, I shall ask you to favour me with some of your flowers to-morrow. Give me the hope that you will not refuse for me to sleep upon." " You may have anything—all," answered the girl, staring listlessly up into the sky. "I do not care for flowers now. "Are you very tired, my poor child?" asked the dowager, as tho carriago moved away. "I wanted to take you into my room awhile after Celeste had relieved us of this finery." "I can rest there in the easy-chair as well as in my bed, for I should not sleep, returned Hortense, in the same numb, apathetic manner that had reacted from the mood of affected, constrained gayety. And therefore Celeste left the two ladies alone after she had wrapped them in com fortable dressing-gowns, and put away the elaborate dinner dresses out of sight. The dowager leaned forward, and took her granddaughter's hand, and held it t:nderly. . . , , " Hortense, my dearest, it is my hour ot penanco now that of adulation is passed. 1 have worn the Mildmay emeralds for the last time. I shall shine no more in jewels of any sort. I have Baid my farewell to rank and pride, but not, I hope, to love also. Tell me once that you love me, child, to comfort me in this night before me; tell me if you love me, even though I have wronged you, but unintentionally, believe that " Oh grandma, grandma, whom else have I to love? You have been father, and mother, and grandmother, now you must be lover also," burst piteously from the grieved red lips as the beautiful head fell upon her Bhßut here came old Thomas, the faithful old servitor who was butler in the house when the dowager came to it as a bride, knookine softly at the door. "My lady, if I could have a single word Wi*Ve°s?'Thomas. I understand. Order the servants all to bed andhaveallbut the. nisht-lamps quenched. For yourself, go not beyond the side entrance," was her TCllSnily understood this enig ~ -Hr.nl sneech for he withdrew at once. ThSwSstoodby the door withaiapeso strange in its blending expressions of joy and sorrow, longing and terror, that Hor tense could not withdraw her eyes a^d, va_uely distressed, she called out hastily, "Grandma, grandma, what is the m "W_o can tell? Good-night, my darling. Say good-night to me, and go to your innocent rest."

And Hortense, comprehending the gentle command expressed in the tender tones, re luctantly withdrew. Tho dowager clasped both hands upon hor heart as though thit3 to repel sotae cruel pung there, and walked slowly to the window.

''Hcte," sho murmuredi "hel'e at last, I am to see him—meet hiin-^-hear his voice.

Oh, Heaven, help lii. to be calni, teach mfc how to look ftnd Speak to spare him every b.C_U_is pang. Let .riie think How full Ills heart must be, what bitter m_norie.. what woeful grief „s p'tf___»g upon him." . She stfecfd J. lew moments as if struggling ?<-_' 'composure, and then walked slowly back to the door, and opening it softly, stepped out into tho wido corridor. Thomas

wos there, waiting, as stirless and silent as one of the bronze warriors in the nitehes of the staircaso. He understood tho mutt) command of the hand she Waved toward him, end bowing thrice, glided away down the staircase, which was dimly revealed by the faint beams of the nearly quenched light below. Ten minutes afterward, With noiseless steps that gave no SChb bai_K, ho returned, followed by ft stranger who was cl«3oLy wi'-lf-ped in a large cloak, with a drooping felt hat set low over his fore head.

The faithful old servant's rugged dhGCk was glistening with the teal's t'halstill ti-'-thg to it, and when Lady Mildmay dbl-ried her door for tllolU, he caught her lidnd, and pre.se>:. a sudden kiss upon it> white lib Sobbed out-, , , , " Oh, my lady, olv, liny lady, do not let him go Awsuy again 1 'Die dowager gave him a pitiful look and a feoblo smile.

"Go, and keep watch, my faithful Thomas. You, who havo sharod this secret with me for so many weary yenrs^gttar'd it a little longer, I pray J .11. So suspicious eye must Id'-fe-t-On.l'nm to-night." Arid then slio waited Until the man with drew, nnd the closing door loft her alono With this mysterious midnight visitor. Ho had dropped his cloak, and flung aside tho wide-brimmed hat, and as sho turned to ward him, ho droppod on ono kneo before her, and with drooping head and crossed arms, waited for her to spoalt. , Hot f-l'tiVi was vory pale, her eyes Unnaturally bright, but she Cori-polled hci-self to bo calm, und bending down, she laid her thin white hands -ipoi- his shoulders, and droppod a kiss up on his forehead.

"My beloved, my bolovod," sho said, eagerly, " do not kneol, for if it is tin hour for humility nnd confession, I must also tell you that I havo como to sco that I was hard and cruel; that my judgment was at fault. Oh, my Richard, what sufferings wo have botli endured I Bottor, far better, have braved everything together—lt would have beon wiser, nobler, happier. I see It now. Wo aro all faulty, erring creatures, tho best of us. It Is impious arroganco to set our eolvos Up for immaculate patterns or shining lights. Richard, my son,T shall not hear a single reproachful word against yourself. I can only feel my hoart thrill with a mother's holy joy that I can clasp you in my arms once moro; that wo havo met again—that you are safely home again," Ho rose hurriedly, and folded her close to a breast shaken by deep-drawn sobs. " Oh, precious saint—oh, heroic heart, grand solf-sacriftoing life, do you talk of humiliating Confession _" ho articulated, in broken accents, " You who have walked with pure heart and clean hands, and white unsullied robes to which no. even nn atom of common dUst has clung 1 You mako my own ruined life riso up before mo in black contrast, in bitter reproach, with uttor loathing of tho reckless, thankless son who has brought you such a weight of secrot grief." " Hush, hush," sho whispered, in tender est accents, whilo her tears mingled with his, " tho past is past; lot its misories rest. Wo are to mako a happier present, a hap pier future out of its ruins. Sit down, dear Richard, and lot us try to talk calmly. Did Mr Tulkinhorn show you the situation, the mischief that poor silly Ted has mado ?" " I think I understand, though I had but a hurried talk with him," replied he. "I think my punishment is never te end. It almost maddens me to romembor what folly nnd madness of mine has wrought this wido-spread harm. But that innocent child must not suffer : her happiness must be my first, and last, and paramount con sideration." Hero thero camo tho sound of n eoft voice outside, and the noxt momont a gontlo knock. " Grandmamma, grandmamma, ploase lot me in !" implored the voice of Lady Hor r.onso. The dowagor oponed hor lipe to reply, but caught tho wild, yearning look on hor companion's faco, and suddenly starting up, hlio unloosened tho silken cord and swopt down tho voluminous brocado drapery of tho window nearest her, and motioned to ward it. Ho understood her moaning, and quickly secreted himself behind tho glisten ing screen. Sho walked slowly to tho door, saying in a voice her best efforts could not steady, while she slipped the bolt: "I am coming, darling. Silly child, why have you not gone to sleep ?" Hortenso camo in hurriedly, and glanced 1 around nervously, whilo she said : " Thomas is still in the hall, grand mamma. Why is ho still watching ? I can not help a strange, uncanny . feeling from creeping over me. Tell me that you are not hiding any illness from mo ; that you are not waiting secretly for a doctor's visit this late hour. Oh, grandmamma, you aro all I have, what would become of me to loso you ?" "My precious darling, you aro nearer Illness than I. Whydid'younotgotobed?" said tho grandmother, in a voice of tender chiding, while with ono arm thrown around her caressingly she detained tho girl there in front of that window and its concealed inmate.

'' I could not help thinking, thinking. It must have beon our talk—ot my father. Oh, grandma, how little I know what I lost! What a haven of refuge it would have been for me now if I could fly into his arms, nnd lot him tako ray burden from me !" How the dowager's face shone ! She heard the smothered sob behind tho folds of silken curtains, though the girl gave it no heed.

"Hortenso, my darling," sho said, solemnly, "we are all weak, unstable, erring creatures, but One is perfect love and good ness, and He is caring for us all. Take that thought with you to your room, and go to sleep trustfully. I am quite well. Set all your fears to rest, and say_ good night as you used to whon a little girl—do you remember?" Vaguely awed by her manner, Hortense lifted her fair face with a tender, dawning smile upon it, and said : "Oh, yes, how could I forget? Good night, grandma, father's mother. Heaven bless us all, here and there I I did not know its moaning then, now I seer all its beauty. Must I really go, grandma? You don't look as if you meant to sleep." " I certainly sha'n't if you stay. Good night, dear; remember that you are to put away all fear and distrust. To-morrow may bring you something wonderful, who can tell ?"

When the door closed behind Hortense the dowager crossed silently to the curtains and drew them aside. Her visitor was kneeling there, with clasped hands and wrapt face. She dropped the curtains again, noiselessly, and lifted her own eyes upward. And into both hearts, like a benediction, stole a sweet unwonted trust.

(To be Continued.)

A Spider in Church.

Old Collamore is very deaf. The other Sunday, in tho midst of tho services, Mr Hoff, who sits immediately behind Mr Collamore, saw a spider crawling over the latter's bald head. His first impulse was to nudge him to tell him about it; but he re membered that Mr Collamore was deaf, so he lifted up his hand and brushed the spider off. Hoff didn't aim quite high enough, and, in his nervousness, he hit Old Collamore quite a severe blow. The old gentleman turned around in a rage to see who had dared to take such a liberty with him, and Hoff began to explain with gestures. But Collarmore in a loud voice demanded what he meant. It was very painful to Hoff. The eyes of the congregation were upon him, and he grew red in the face. "There was a spider on your head." "A white placeon my head, hey? S'pose there is, what's that to you? you'll known what it is to be bald-headed yourself some day." "It was a spider," shrieked Hoff, while the perspiration began to roll off his face. "Certainly it's wider," said Colla more, " and got more in it than yours, But let it alone—do you mind ? You may let my head alone in .church." •" Mr Col lamore," shrieked Hoff, "There was a spider on your head, and I brushed him off —this , way," and Hoff made ' another gesture at Collamore's head. The old man thought he was going to fight him then and there, and hurling a hymn-bock at Hoff, ho seized the kneeling stool on the floor of the pew and was about to bang Mr Hoff, when the sexton interfered. An ex planation was written on the fly-leaf of the hymn-book, whereupon Mr Collamore apolo gised in a boisterous voice and resumed his seat. Then the service proceeded. They think of asking Mr Collamore to worship elsewhere.

JACK FOSTER'S WIFE.

By Bonne Heukk,

" What, ih the name of sense, i'ould have

possessed Jack Foster tb iharry such a

pink and white doll as Flossie Weston ?" was tho unanimous remark that circulated among Jack's bachelor friends when the

wedding cards, accompanied by the con

ventional bit of cake, had beon left at their various destinations. " A little bit of a creature, with no other idea of life than that it was made to dress and spend money in."

I "It'll give hel-slx Inohths to make him a : bankrupt!" exclaimed Ned Lowry, who, 'having been Jack',, special "chum," felt qualified to express a decided opinion. "I always thought Jack was <• sensible fellow* but I'll - ii'eVel- put faith inhuman HAt-ire again." And whilo Jack's friends are thus ex pressing their regrets and prognostications, lie was away on his wedding trip* his whole soul infused with a delightful.sense Uf pro tective gdllaritry towards the little creature whs h'oStlfed set confidingly, against his 'eh'ch.ling arln, and privately con gratulating himself at intervals of five minute . or less;, iip-ln being t'.ib luckiest fellow the Still ever shone on, And ho would havo been pretty sure of a sympathising verdict from any ono who could have seen the fairy-like figure beside him, her piquant face set in a frame of golden hair, and surmounted by tho white bridal bonnet, whilo hor largo violet eyes rivalled 111 beauty and brilliancy tho sapphires that sparkled in her sholl-liko ears, and nestled In the foamy laco at hor slender throat. A women to bo loved, potted, shielded from ovory rough wind that blew ; and yet a keen and correct reader of human nature could have detected in tho sunny ovos and around tho corners of the roso-bud mouth indications of firmness and courage, that few Would havo given her credit fill-—of which, perhaps, sho was scarco conscious horsolf.

Tho wedding trip over, tho married pair returned to town, and bogan preparations for houso-k.oping. Although Jack Fostor's business had been in a very prosperous con dition for soveral years past, and ho had a snug sum in bank, he had still his for tuno to mako, and the prosonts ho had lavished upon his betrothed, nil elegant, and many quito costly, had already mado an inroad upon his reserve fund. Owning a house was a luxury at prosont boyond his moans, but ho hired a charming residonco in ono of tho principal streots, and thon, accompanied by his wifo, sot out 'to pur chase the necessary furniture.

When tho things were all in and the house "to rights," it looked like a littlo earthly paradise ; but whon tho bills camo in, a few days later, Jack uttered a pro longed and slightly dismayed "phew!" consoling himself, however, by tho reflec tion that " the worst was ovor now."

But Jack found that the " worst," so far from being ovor, was likely to assumo a chronic nnd permanent form. Fldssie loved pretty things and tasteful docora ttonS, and as for saying "no" to any request of hers, that was a physical, montal, and moral impossibility; and before tho end of six months, hor husband found that thoso requests wero threatening to reduce his funds to such a condition that ho would no longer havo any uso for a banker.

One day, however, as Jack sat in his ollico, trying to think of somo way to in crease his incomo, a friend dropped in, and thoy entered into conversation, during which Jack's faco brightened, and when his friend loft, ho took with him a chequo repre senting moro than half tho amount Foster had in the bank, together with a letter of instructions to a broker in Wall-street.

For soveral duys after that transaction Jack Foster was another man, Tho care worn look that had been creeping into his eyes had givon plnco to an expression of oagor and joyful oxpectancy ns whon ono

waits for somo confidently anticipated good nows ; and ho surprised his wife with sovo ral now and beautiful presents. Finally, ono morning, as thoy woro seated at their cosy breakfast, Flossie said, in her pretty, coaxing way :

"Jack, dear, Mrs Maxom's ball comes off next wcok, and I would like to havo a now dress. I can got a perfectly lovoly pattern at Crapo and Dolman's for a hundred dol lars, and tho making and trimmings will only cost as much moro."

" And your purse, as usual, is ompty, you extravagant littlo darling!" said Jack, playfully. .Well, I haven't got my cheque book with mo, nor that amount in my pocket; but you can come down to tho office this afternoon, and I'll havo it roady for you," and kissing tho rosebud mouth upturned to thank him, Jack left tho house, whistling gaily.

For a fow hours after her husband's de parture, pretty little Mrs Foster busied her self with what sho was pleased to term her "household duties," although thoy woro morely nominal, as she had threo competent servants; then, after a dainty lunch, sho concluded it wob about time to think about going down for that money. Whon about ready, however, a visitor was announced, who detained hor some time, so that it was after three o'clock when sho at last left the

house and wonded her way to her husband's office.

Sho had reached that part of the build ing whore his office waasituated, and paused for a momont to detach somo fringe on hor dress that had caught againßt a nail, whon from tho door of tho office, slightly ajar, 3he caught tho sounds of hor husband's tones, but so changed as to bo scarcely recogniz able

" Yos, Ned !" he was saying, in a voico that was almost a moan. "Everything gone—swept away in an hour! Instead of being, bb I expected to be at this time, about a hundred thousand dollars ahead, by that speculation lam bankrupt. This fatal venture of mine has used up tho money that w _. indißponsablo to tho prosecution of my regular business ; for not content with my first purchase, I yestorday drew out all that remained in tho bank in order to secure several hundred additional shares of that stock, and now everything about me is in ruins. Wo will have to break up house keeping, of course, and go to boarding." "Ah, there it is !" said Ned, oracularly "If you had only been sensible, Jack, and married a practical woman, who could have been a true helpmeet to you in a calamity like this. Any wife with an idea of economy can always keep house for herself and hus band much cheaper than they can board."

"Don't say a word in disparagement of my chcoie, Ned," said Jack with spirit. "I have the sweetest little wife the sun over shone on, and wouldn'texohangofora para gon, The most bitter draught in this cup of sorrow is the thought that I must so suddenly deprive her of all tho luxuries and even comforts to which she has beon accus tomed. Sho was coming here this vory afternoon, too, for some money I had promised hor." "She'll bo along, no doubt, and there'll be a pretty scene—hysterics, fainting, and so forth," said Ned in a rather heartless tone. " These women that have been petted and indulged all their lives are the vory dickens whon things go wrong." " I could bear it if it was only mysoJf I" said Jack, with another groan. " But to think I must involve hor in my ruin is ter riblo !"

" How much would it tako to set you on your feet again ?" asked Ned, after a pause. " With fivo thousand dollars I could pull through, I suppose. Two of my notes mature tomorrow, and if I could meet them my credit would be safe for the present. But where to get that amount, even as a loan, is more than I know." Up to this moment Flossie had stood like one petrified. Her first impulse, wo must acknowledge, had been to relieve her feel ings by a dismayed shriek. There was a momentary hysterical constriction at her throat and a dimness before her eyes ; then the spell passed, and she listened in silence until, at the last words, a sudden thought lighted up her face. She tarried just long enough to waft her daintily gloved hand from her lips with a kiss, and then clench it with a defiant shake, after which she passed rapidly and noiselessly from the building. "You dear, darling Jack !" sheexclaimed, as, with her face a Bnado paler than usual, but instinct with a bright, resolute expres sion, she walked swiftly homeward. " You shall find that your wife is ready and willing to share your ill as well as your good for tune. And you, Mr Caviller !" she added, with a point, " shall sco that there is one woman who can hear bad news without hysterics I" Mrs Foster stopped once on her way home, calling at an office to request that a messenger-boy might be sent immediately to her residence; then, after reaching home, laid aside her out-door garments and wrote several notes, which she despatched by the boy. This done, she summoned the ser vants to her room.

"You have been very good and faithful girls," she said, quietly. " But an unex pected change in my household arrange ments makes it necessary for me to dismiss you at once. I will give each of you an ex cellent recommendation, however, to my lady friends, and will give you also five dol lars in addition to your wages, as an offset to this short notice."

The servants accepted the situation with out any demur, for there was a look in tho quiet, pale face, and a self-possessed dignity in the tones of their young mistress that checked any garrulous inquiries ; and after receiving thhil- money ana the recommenda tions, they went out at once, at her sugges tion, to see about securing new places. Half an hour later the bell rang, and was answered by Mrs Foster herself, who recog nised her visitor as one of the partners of a large jewellery establishment which she had been accustomed to patronize liberally. She invited him into the parlour, whore, upon a table, was tastefully spread out a glittering array of jowels, silverwaro, and other cx- Eonsivo bijouterie. Sho had retained for erselfj ono plain sot of jewellery and her watch and chain, together with such articles of silverwaro as were required for constant use, but that was all, "I find it advisable to part with these things, Mr Murray," she said, without the slightest trace of emotion, in her quiet, lady-like tones, " What will you give me in cash for them ?"

Mr Murray inspected tho articles, then replied: " Twenty-five hundred dollars," Mi-s Foster's eyes sparkled. " Crtn yolt take them away and let me havo the lilonby this afternoon ?" " Certainly, madam. I will go back, and return .villi the hiOney ttnd oiie of liiy clerks in ati hotir."

"Half tho amount already!" oxclaimed Flossie, softly clapping her hands, as Mr Murray loft tho house. " There's a friend nearer than you think, my dear Jack. Your notes shall not go to protest if 1 can help it."

A few moments later the bell rang again, and this time it was a member of a house furnishing firm who mado a specialty of at tending private sales, and whose namo Flossio had incidentally heard some time beforo and remembered. He was takon through tho house; and then sitting down in tho parlour, mado out n hasty echedulo, which ho handed to Mrs Foster.

" Threo thousand dollars !" exclaimed tho dolightod littlo woman, under her breath, " You darling man I" Then added aloud : " It would bo a groat .accommodation to mo to havo tho money this afternoon. I will givo you a bill of salo, and you can remove the things at your convenience." " Vory well, madam," was tho obliging rcjoindor. "I will sond a clerk with tho money nnd a document for you to sign, but will not disturb tho things until to-morrow." Thero woro a fow othor business callers that afternoon, including one or two of Mrs Fostor's particular lady friondß who had admired and coveted somo of the elegant costumos in which sho had appeared on n few occasions; and whon sho had closed the door on tho last ono and sat down for a momoat to recovor a littlo from the excitement sho had beon passing through, sho held in her hand a roll of bills repre senting noarly oight thousand dollars. Novel- beforo had tho money looked so at tractive to hor; novor, through all tho happy months of hor married lifo, had tho bond that bound hor to her husband ap peared so strong and endearing as now, when, of her own freo will, sho had so promptly adapted hersolf to tho altered circumstances his misfortune had brought upon theln. It was with a haggard face and weary stop tbat Jack Foster ascended the stops of his home at the close of that day of harrow ing caro. His wife lidd ndt kept hor ap pointment at his office, and the terrible nows yet remained to bo broken to hor. Sighing hoavily, ho fitted his night-key in the lock. It refused to turn—the door was evidently bolted on the inside ; and pulling tho boll, he stood waiting an answer, with a fooling of dreary apathy such as ho had never experienced before. A light stop came along tho hall; a hand shot back tho bolt, and then tho door opened and Flossie's bright faco looked out. "Ah, Jack, dear!" she exclaimed, in a voico so full of sweet womanly tendorness that poor Jack's heart swelled almost to bursting. "You aro late. I was begin ning to feel anxious about you I Como in— dinner is waiting." Jack tried to speak, but could not; and seeing his acitation, Flossie tripped away down stairs, Didding him follow hor as soon as he had laid aside his coat.

Jack felt like a criminal going to receivo his sentonco as he entered the cheery littlo dining-room. His wife was standing, look ing, with an air of quiet contentment, over the neatly-spread table, from which, in hiß agitation, ho did not notice that several of the moro exponsivo articles of silvorwaro wero missing. Taking his soat, he went on with his dinner in moody silonco, but re volving over and ovor in his mind the ques tion, "How shall I break tho news to her ?" while Flossie watchod him with a furtive but pitying glance, cogitating, on hor part, as to tho best tiino for tho disclosure of her secret.

Atlast the desired opportunity came, whon Mrs Foster rose to remove her hus band's plato beforo bringing in tho dessert. "Why, my dear, whore is Sarah?" he asked, looking up. " I dismissed her this afternoon, together with the two other girls," answered Flossie, quiotly. "Dismissed them?" echoed hor husband. "What for?" "I'll tell you presently, dear," was tho soft reply ; then taking the little box she had boon keeping on a side-table, she placed it before him, adding : " Just examine that, please, while I am bringing in tho dessert." Mechanically Jack raised the lid, just as Flossie slipped from tho room ; but the next moment an exclamation broke from his lips, as the precious bills met his eye. Flossie was a few minutes longer than was really necessary in bringing in tho dessort ; and whon sho re-entered the dining-room, Jack was looking in a dazed, bewildered way at the contents of the little box, his face pale and his whole frame quivering. "What does this mean, Flossie?'ho managed to ask. "Nothing very bad, I hopo !" said his wife, as she _camo to his side, and slipped one arm around his neck. Then laying hor chook against his, sho added, in a caressing whisper : "I have been anticipating our altered [fortunes a little, Jack, that is all. I was in the lobby when you wore talking to Mr Lowry this afternoon, and heard everything." Then in an eager, animated tone she continued: "And everything is all arranged so nicely as could be, Jack !" I've sold my jewellery, and all the furniture and othor things except what we really need; and to-morrow we will look up a nico, cosy little house at one-third the rent wo have been paying for this, and what is left after the five thousand dollars you need to meet those notes will keep us comfortable until your prospects are better ; for as thero are only two of us, I mean to be housekoeper myself, and dispense with extra help, ex cept a woman now and then, to wash and clean and do such heavy work."

Jack's right hand went around tho waist of his young wife with a clasp that almost took her breath away, while the other was placed before his face to hide the tears which uould come at this blessed and un looked-for relief—not only relief from the task of disclosing his desperate situation to his wife, and witnessing her anticipated grief and dismay, but relief from a difficulty tho meeting of which—as he could now meet it—would enable him to save his busi ness from absolute ruin.

" Come, now, Jack," spoke Flossie's cooing voice at his ear, " you must not weep. You know I was to do all the weep ing—with hysterics thrown in—according to Mr Ned Lowry. I kissed my hand to you, my darling, as I stood.nearyour office, and then shook my fist at him. But I'll punish him I You shall ask him to dinner somo day, and ho will have to confess him self mistaken."

One more estatic squeezo from Jack, and a few loving caresses from Flossie, and then they settled themselves to tho enjoyment of the dessert, and after dinner Bat down together for a " good talk," as Flossie called it, about what it was best to do until their prospects brightened again. It did not take long to find ahouse suited to their wants, and the moving was soon accomplished. On the day those two notes came due another of Jack's creditors—an elderly gentleman having a keen eye to business, but a full-sized heart—called upon him, and wringing his hand with the cordiality of one who had come to ask rather thangrant a favour, said : " Foster, my boy, I v. heard of the doings of that little heroine, your wife. She is one of a thousand. And I just called to offer you an extension of six months on your bill at our place, and also to say that if you want any more geods in the meantime, you need not hesitate to apply for them. A wife like yours is better than a bank account." T . Ned Lowry came to dinner in Jack Foster's modest but cheerful and happy little home—not once only, but several times; and so did the other bachelor friends and sometime scoffers; and one and all carried away golden opinions of the heroic little woman who had bo bravely met half way and fairly vanquished what had threatened to be a crushing calamity.

THE WRITING ON THE SLATE.

Extraordinary Resoue at Sea,

Mil I.UIIEI.T Bruce, originally descended from some branch of Scottish family of that name, was born in humble circum stances about the close of the last century at Torbay, in the South of England, and thero bred up to a seafaring life. When about thirty years of age, to wit, in the year IS2S, ho was first mate on a barque trading between Liverpool and St. John's, New Brunswick.

On one of her voyages bound westward, being then some five or six weeks out, and having neared tho eastern portion of the Banks of Newfoundland, the captain and mate had been on deck at noon taking an observation of the sun, after which they descended to calculate their day's work.

The cabin, a small ono, was immediately at the stern of tho vessel, and the short stairway descending to it ran athawrtships. Immediately opposite to this stairway, just boyond a small square landing, was the mate's state-room, and from that landing there were two doors close to each othor, tho ono opening aft Into the cabin, the other fronting the stairway Into the state room. The desk in tho state-room was in the forward part of it close to the door, so that anyone sitting at it and looking over his shoulder could see Into the cabin.

The mate, absorbed in his calculation, which did not result as ho expected, vary ing considerably from tho dead-reckoning, had not noticed the captain's motions. When he had completed his calculations, ho called out without looking round— " I make our latitude and ldngitiide so and-so. Can that be riuht ? How is yours ?"

I-eceiving no reply, he repeated his ques tion, glancing over his shoulder, and per ceiving, as ho thought, the captain busy writing on his slate. Still ■no answer. Thereupon he roso, and as he fronted the cabin door, the figure ho had mistaken for the captain raised its head and disclosed to tho astonished mate the features of an en tiro stranger. Bruco was no coward ; but as ho met that fixed gaze looking directly at him in grave silenco, and became assured that it was no ono whom ho had over seen before, it was too much for him ; and, instead of stopping to quostion the seeming intruder, ho rushed upon deck in such evident alarm that it instantly attracted the captain's ttention.

" Why, Mr Bruce," said the latter, "what in tlio world is the matter with you ?"

" Tho matter, sir ? Who is that at your desk ?"

"No ono that I know of." " But thero is, sir, thero is a stranger thero."

"A strangor? Why, man, you must be dreaming. You must have seen the steward there, or the second mate. Who else would venturo down without orders?"

" But, sir, ho was sitting in your arm chair, fronting tlio door, writing on your slato. Then he looked up full in my faco; and if ever I saw a man plainly and dis tinctly in this world, I saw him," "Him? Whom?"

"Heaven knows, sir; I don't. I saw a man, and a man I'd never seen in my life before."

" You must be going crazy, *Mr Bruce. A strangor, and wo nearly six weeks out I" " I know, sir ; but then I saw him," " Go down nnd see who it is." Bruce hesitated. " I nover was a believer in ghosts," he Baid, "but, if tho truth must be told, sir, I'd rather not faco it alone." " Como, come, man. Go down at once, : and don't make a fool of yourself before tho crew." "I hopo you've always found mo willing to do what's reasonable," Bruce replied, changing colour ; "but if it's all the same to you, sir, I'd rather wo should both go down together." The captain descended the stairs, and the mate followed him. Nobody in the cabin ! Thoy examined the state rooms. Not a soul to be found !

"Woll, Mr Bruce," said the captain, " did I not tell you you had been dream ing ?" " It's all very well to say so, sir ; but if I didn't see that man writing on your slate, may I nover see my family and home again." "Ah I writing on the slate. Then it should bo there still," And the captain took it up. "See hero," he oxclaimed ; "here's something, sure enough. Is that your writing, Mr Bruce ?" Tho mate took the slate ; and there in plain, lcgiblo characters, stood the words, " Steer to the Nor'west."

" Havo you been trifling with me, sir?" added the captain in a stern manner. " On my word, as a man and as a sailor, sir," replied Bruce, " I know no more of this matter than you do. I have told you the exact truth." The captain sat down at his desk, the slate boforo him, in deep thought, Atlast, turning the slate over and pushing it to wards I.nice, lie said, " Write down 'Steer to the nor west.'"

The mate complied ; and the captain after narrowly comparing the two handwritings, said, " Mr Bruce ; go and tell the second mate to come down hero." He camo, and at the captain's request ho also wrote the same words. So did the steward. So, in succession, did every man of the crew who could write at all. But not ono of the various hands resembled in any degree the mysterious writing. When the crew retired tho captain sat deep in thought. " Could any one have been stowed away? at last he said. " The ship must be searched, ond if I don't find the fellow ho must be a good hand at hide and seek. Order up all hands." Every nook and corner of the vessel, from stem to stern, was thoroughly searched, and that with all tho eagerness of excited curiosity, for the report had gono out that a stranger had shown himself on board. But not a living soul boyond tho crow nnd tho officers was found. Returning to tho cabin after their fruitless search, "Mr Bruco," said the captain, "what do you mako of all this ?"

"Can't tell,sir. I saw the man write: you sco tho writing. There must bo some thing in it." " Well, it would seem so. We have the wind free, and I havo a great mind tokeep her away and see what will come of it." " I surely would, sir, if 1 were in your place. It's only a few hours lost at the worst." . " Well, wo'll see. Go on deck and give the course nor'-west. And, Mr Bruce," he added, as tho mate rose to go, " have a look out aloft, and let it be a hand you can depend on." His orders were obeyed. About throe o'clock the look-out reported an iceberg nearly ahead, and, shortly after, what he thought was a vessel of some kind close to it. As they approached, the captain's glass disclosed tho fact that it was a dis mantled ship, apparently frozen to the ice, and with a good many human beings on it. Shortly after they hovo to, and sent out boats to the relief of the sufferers. It proved to be a vessel from Quebec, bound to Liver pool, with passengers on board. Sho had got entangled in the ice, and finally frozen fast, and had passed many weeks in a, most critical situation. She was stove, hor docks swept—in fact, a mere wreck ; all her provisions and almost all her water gone. Her crew and passengers had lost all hopes of being saved, and thoir gratitudo for the unexpected rescue was proportionately great. As one of the men who had been brought away in tho third boat that had reached the wreck was ascending tho ship's side the mate, catching a glimpse of his face, started back in consternation. It was the very faco he had seen, three or four hours boforo, looking up at him from tho captain's desk. At first he tried to porsuade himself that it might bo fancy ; but the moro ho ex amined the man the more sure he became he was right. Not only tho faco, but the person and dress, exactly corresponded. As soon as the exhausted crew and famished passengers were cared for, and the barque on her course again, the mate called the captain aside. "It seems that was not a ghost I saw to day, sir ; the man's alive?" " What do you mean ? Who s alive ? " Why, sir, one of the passengers we have just saved is the same man I saw writing on your slate at noon. I would swear to it in a court of justice." «< Upon my word, Mr Bruce," replied the captain, " this gets more and more singular. Let us go and see this man." They found him in conversation with the captain of the rescued ship. They both came forward, and expressed, in the warm est terms, their gratitude for deliverance from a horrible fate—slow-coming death by exposure and starvation. The captain replied that he had but done what he was certain they would have done for him under the same circumstances, and asked them both to step down into the cabin. Then, turning to the passenger, he said, "I hope, sir, you will not think I am trifling with you ; but I would be much obliged to you if you would write a few words on this slate." And he handed him the slate with that side up on which the mysterious writing was not. ; "I will do anything you ask," replied the passenger; " but what shall I write ?"

" A few words are all I want. Suppose you write ' Steer to tho nor'-west.'" Thopassonger, evidently puzzled to make out the motive for such a request, complied, however, with a smile. The captain took up the slate and examined it closely; thon stepping aside, so as to conceal tho slate from tho passenger, he turned it over, and gavo it to him again with the other up. " You say this is your handwriting ?" 3aid he. "I need not say so," rejoined the other, looking at it, " for you saw me write it." " And this ?" said tho captain, turuing the slate over.

The man looked first at one writing and thon at the other, quite confounded. At last he said, " What is the meaning of this? I only wrote ono of those." " Who wrote tho other ?" " That's moro than I can tell you, sir." "My mate hero says you wrote it, sitting at this desk, at noon." Tho captain of tho wreck and the passen ger looked at each other, exchanging glances of intelligence and surpriso; and the former asked the latter, " Did you dream that you wrote on this slate ?"

"No sir; not that I remember," " You speak of dreaming," said the cap tain of the barque. '■ What was the gentle man about at noon to-day J" "Captain," rejoined the other: "the whole thing is most mysterious and extra ordinary ; and I had intended to speak to you about it as soon as we got a little quiet. This gentleman (pointing to the passenger), being much exhausted, fell into a heavy sleep, or what seemed such, some time be fore noon, After an hour or more, he awoke and said to me, ' Captain, we shall bo relieved this very day. When I asked him what reason he had for saying so, he replied that he had dreamed he was on board a barque, and that she was coming to our rescue, He described her appearanco and rig ; and to our utter astonishment, when your vessel hove in sight, she corres ponded exactly to his description of her. Wo had not put much faith in what he said; yet still we hoped there might bo somothsng in it, for drowning men, you know, will catch at straws. As it has turned out, I cannot doubt that it was all arranged in some incomprehensible way by an over-ruling Providence, so that we might be saved. To Him be all thanks for His goodness to us." "There is not a doubt," 1 .joined the other captain, "that the writing on tho slate, let it have come there as it may, saved all your lives. I was steering at the time considerably south of west, and I altered my course to nor'-west, and had a look out aloft, to see what would come of it But you say," he added, turning to the passenger, "that you did not dream of writing on a slate ?" " No, sir. I have no recollection what ever of doing so. I got tho impression that the barque I saw in my dream was coming to rescue us; but how that impression came I cannot tell. There is another thing about it," he added. "Everything here on board seems to me quite familiar ; and yet I am sure I was never in your vessel before. It is all a puzzle to me. What did your mate see ?

Thereupon Mr Bruce related to them all the circumstances before detailed. The conclusion they finally arrived at was that it was a special interposition of Providence to save them from what seemed a hopeless late.

One Thousand Guineas.

Lord Peliiam lived almost the whole year at a country-house on the Thames, a few miles from London, and was accustomed to go frequently to town on foot, and without attendants.* Being one day passing throueh a small wood, he saw a shabbily-dressed man with a basket on his arm coming towards him. " My lord," said the man, " will you buy my white rabbit ?" Lord Pelham shook his head, and walked on without uttering a word. The unknown followed him, and in a singularly expressive tone, he resumed— "My lord, you, however, won't refuse to buy my little white rabbit ?" " I don't, want your rabbit," replied Lord Pelham, rather surprised, "so leave me, my friend," " Yet, my lord, I am convinced you aro going to buy my little white rabbit, and that at once," so saying, he presented a pistol to his lordship's breast. " Yes, I plainly see I must buy it; but why didn't you explain yourself as clearly at first ? Well, then, what price do you ask for your rabbit ?" " A thousand guineas." " A thousand guineas for a rabbit?" "Not a shilling less ; and you are going to give mo them, are you not, my lord ?" He had cocked the pistol, and his finger was on the trigger. " Without a doubt you shall have your thousand guineas, but I have not that sum about me."

" I don't expect it; but your signature is sufficient—l know your banker." "My signature! but for that I should want "

"Nothing but paper, a pen and ink ; here thoy are, my lord—l have thought of everything." Lord Pelham, seeing but too well he had no other means of getting rid of that singular rabbit-dealer, drew a note for the required sum, and payable at sight to the bearer, and then prepared to continue his way. But the unknown threw himself before him, the pistol still in his hand. "Where, then, are you going to, my lord?" "To London." "You make a mistake; it's me who am eoing to London to draw the thousand guineas from your banker, and you must feel I have no need for your presence to finish the business. You are going to return to your seat. Good day; that is your road, and this is mine." Lord Pelham didn't think fit to prolong tho discussion, but returned in no pleasant mood, to his mansion, and nevor confided to anyone how much the little animal had coßt him.

Ten years after that adventure, Lord I_lham was walking in tho streets of Bath, when his attention was caught with the splendid display in a jeweller's shop. Struck with the figure of tho master, he consideredhimattentively,and the man with the rabbit immediately recurred to his mind. Going into tho shop, ho asked to look at some of the rings, when, at the first word uttered by the jeweller, all his lord ship's doubts vanished, and he perfectly re cognised his old acquaintance the footpad. But how was he to act ? How inform against, or accuse him without witnesses, and with out proof? His lordship retired without manifesting the least suspicion, and dreamed all night how best to recover his money. Next morning, plainly dressed, and carry ing a small basket, he presented himself at the shop aB soon as it was opened, and in quiring for the master, was shown into the back shop, where he found the jeweller. " Sir," said Lord Pelham to him, " would you like to buy a little white rabbit?" The jeweller stared with all his eyes, and looked earnestly at him. " I am convinced," resumed his lordship, " that you will at once purchase this white rabbit," at the same time presenting a pistol. "Oh, most willingly," said the terrified joweller; "how much for your rabbit ?" " The cost price—a thousand guineas." " Ah, my lord, double and triple the Bum, but, in Heaven's name, don't ruin me." Moved by his prayers and his repentance, and still more at the sight of a young wife and two children he saw in the shop, Lord Pelham contented himself with notes to the amount he had been robbed of, which was immediately given to him. " I can well afford the interest as well, said the jeweller. "With the money I ' borrowed ' of you in so singular a manner, I set myself up in business, and my success has surpassed my hopes." Lord Pelham then took fifty more guineas, which he sent to the Foundling Hospital, pledging his word of honour never to reveal the adventure. He kept his word, and it was only dis covered by a memorandum found in his papers after his death.—' Rare Bits.'

Good Example.

President Abthuk, during his Western tour, never killed more game than could be used in camp, and fur_hermore,_ in breaking camp his orders were imperative to extin guish every vestige of a fire, and for this purpose a force of rtien were always left behind. It is a pity that all the people in these mountains are not as careful, for thousands upon thousands of acres of timber that would some day be valuable have been destroyed, and other thousands, even at the present writing, are in flameß. There is no prevention oi these ravages save the individual efforts of the campers, —From tho " Herald.'

THE SARATOGA TRUNK.

[By Mary Kyle Dallas.]

Eliza Oaklet had been in the service of an excellent lady who was very kind to her. She was a smart girl, but not conscientious, and with an idea that impertinence was self-respect. So she had, as she believed, asserted her dignity by refusing to do something not quite in her own department, but which she was asked to do kindly, and ill-feeling had been the consequence, and she had given warning. She was now packing her trunk to go to a great city where she had no friends. She had spent all her wages beforehand—owing dressmaker and milliner, and the con fectioner in tho village, and had very little money left. She could not hope to find so kind and considerate a mistress or so good a home very speedily ; but though all that was re quired of her was a respectful apology, she would not make it. The fault had been entirely on her own side, and for that very reason sho was implacable. She packed her trunk, called tho man to help her carry it to the waiting-waggon, perched herself upon it, and set off, and was left at the station half an hour before the train arrived. There was no one in tho waiting-room at first, but shortly there ar rived a lady, who brought with her a large Saratoga trunk, a small one, and a portman teau. These things were set in the usual place, and checks given for them—three tied together on a little string. These the lady dropped into her reticule, and wrap ping her blue veil about her face, fell to pacing the platform. When at last they got aboard the train it happened that she sat directly in front of Eliza Oakley. At first she sat very quietly, hardly seeming to breathe. Then she opened hor bag, and took out her checks. Eliza saw the numbers upon them—so, 51, and 52. Tho cord tying them together was knotted loosely. She untied tho knot, and slipped the check bearing tho number 51 from the cord, and putting the others into her bag again, began to play with this. Eliza remembered that 51 was the number of the check that had beon put upon tho Saratoga trunk. Soon it droppod into her lap, and she left it there. " You are mighty careless, I'm sure,' thought Eliza. "No doubt you'vo got hundreds of dollars' worth of good clothes in that trunk, and I suppose it is no more to you than one dress to me." As she spoke she heard a little tinkling sound. The check had fallen from the lady's lap to the floor. Eliza had never been dishonest, but she was covetous and envious. Besides, at that moment she had a bad opinion of ladies, as her employer doubtless had of servants. "■She was not going to trouble herself to tell the lady she had dropped something," she said to herself. And the lady did not discover the fact for herself. At the New York depot she got out without picking it up, and hurried directly to the baggage room. Eliza herself picked up the check and followed her. The lady certainly would be ready to give a reward for finding, such an important thing, she thought. She would wait until "a fuss " began to be made about it, and then corns in with the check, asking the lady if it belonged to her. But the plan failed. The lady presented her two checks, had her small trunk and portmanteau carried to a waiting hack, and seemed to forget all about her large trunk. "Well?" asked the baggage-master, ap proaching Eliza. '' My trunk," said the girl. She put her own check into his hand. "Both of them," said the man im patiently. The temptation was offered. Eliza gave him both checks, and ten minutes after was bargaining with a cartman, who wanted extra pay for " a great trunk like that." Her heart was beating wildly. What treasuresof lace, silk, velvet, jewellery, even money, might not be in that fine trunk, now her own, to all intents and purposes ? "And I never did anything at all," argued Eliza to herself. '' It was just given to me like—l didn't say a word." All the same, the feet of an approaching policeman made her start, and she was sick with terror before she left the depot.

At the boarding-house of Mrs McGillup, rooms were small and crowded—there were many young women out of place—and five slept in one large room, and three in a hall bedroom. Mrs McGillup [and family " made down " beds in the general sitting room for their own -accomodation; and a cook, who had taken to drink and was not in great demand in consequence, slept in a rocking chair behind a curtain in the same apartment. Trunks were stowed away, and there was no opportunity for Eliza to examine her plunder. These strangers might not be honest, and if there were velvet robes, cashmere shawls, diamonds and other splendid things under that locked lid it would be better that they should not know it. Besides, Eliza had no key to the trunk. She resolved to open it at her "first place." The place came at last. Eliza went to it at night, bearing her two trunks. It was a small, dainty establishment, and the lady of the house regarded the immense luggage which accomprnied her waitress with amazement.

" How both your trunks are to be got into your room I'm sure I don't know," she said. "For the present you bad better leave the larger on this floor. There's a pantry at the end of the hall that may hold it."

Eliza's guilty conscience forbade her to object. She had her trunk put into the pantry, and reflected that it was now nearly a week Bince she had had possession of this gigantic object, and still had had no opportunity of examining it. Why had she yielded to temptation ? Why had she done this thing ? she began to ask herself. She never should feel comfortable again. She was constantly in dread of discovery. The trunk itself was a costly thing, that would attract attention as be longing to a working woman. Might not her employer examine it too closely ? All day she listened and watched. At night, after she had gono to bed, sho heard the soand of an open door, and of low voices, and creeping to the head of the stairs, peeped over, and saw the lady of the house,* her husband, and another gentleman staring at her trunk. White and trembling, she crept back to bed. " I wonder they are so curious about my trunk," she said, with chattering teeth, to her companion, the cook. "Oh," replied that worthy, "sheis al ways Interfering. They think a girl has no right to a few clothes, and a box to keep them in. Oh, the likes of them!..___ the size of it, me dear—Bhe'll be axin you to remove the morrow."

" Oh! if it is only that," said Eliza to herself, tossing to and fro in her bed. "H they only don . know the trunk, or suspect that it is stolen."

"You're a mighty restless sleeper," said the cook. "If you toss tho loike o' this I dunno how them that has the misfortin' to sleep wid ye is to get a wink after this." Eliza held herself still, but she only fell asleep when dawn was breaking and the milkman whooping in the area. As she waited at the breakfast-table she fancied her employers looked at her curioußly, and after the meal was over her master said, gravely: "Eliza, I must speak with you ; shut the door. Ido not wisb the other servants to hear." Eliza obeyed. "Then make no scene," said the gentle man, quietly, " but give me the key of your large trunk—the one in the pantry hero." Eliza tottered and supported herself against the side-board. "Key?" she faltered, "If you please I have no key to it." " It is locked ?" said the gentleman. "Yes, sir—lbelieve so," sobbed Eliza. "Where is the key?" repeated her master. "Give it tome, or I shall o;oen the trunk by force." " I don't know where the key is, eir," said Eliza; "and, indeed," she said, with an attempt at spirit, "I've stolen nothing from you, and you've no right to open my trunk." The other gentleman whom Eliza had first seen in the hall as she peeped over the stairs the night before, here threw hack his coat, and revealed a shield which was pinned to the vest beneath; then crossed the room, and opening the door, beckoned in a man who carried a locksmith's keys and tools. " Open that trunk," he said. "Oh, please, please, Mr Officer!" cried Eliza, " f'was only taking care of it for the lady. I—l meant to get her address and send it to her." "That's a little toolate, my dear," said the officer, as the trunk flew open. "I arrest you on a charge of murder." And Eliza, as she fell forward with a shriek, saw that the dreadful contents of the Saratoga trunk was a dead body, only half wrapped in what seemed like a sheet. In prison Eliza had time to resolve to be honest thereafter; and although it was proven that the woman who purposely lost the check was the true murderess, Eliza had to confess to theft to clear herself. Her character was ruined, and but for the charity and forgiveness ef the employer whom she had left bo ill-naturedly, good Mrs Cooper who has given her a chance again, she might still be without a place,

ARE THE MAORIS DECREAS ING?

["OTAGO DAILY TIMES," 23RD FEBRUABY.J At the annual meeting of the Philosophical Society in Wellington, Dr. Buller, C.M.G,, F.R.S., gave an address in which he dealt with the above question. He pointed out that a defect in the Transactions of the Ncio Zealand Institute was the extreme paucity of articles relating to the Maori inhabitants of the country, their manners and customs and traditions, their habits of life, their treatment of the sick, burial of the dead, and so forth. The ethnologist of the future will naturally look to the Transactions^ for reliable information on all these points. Newspaper literature is ephemeral, and not always reliable; but from the fact that every paper is vouched for the name of tho author is some sort of guarantee that none but well .[authenticated facts will be found in the pages of the Transactions. Looking to tho fact that the Maori race was dying out very rapidly, that in all probability five and twenty years hence there would only be a remnant left, it was of the first importance, from an ethnological or ethno graphical point of view, to collect and pre serve, while yet there was opportunity, a faithful history of so interesting a people. Ho (Dr. Buller) had often heard Maoris themselves speculate on their speedy ex tinction, saying in a melancholy way that as the Norwegian had destroyed the nativo rat, and as the indigenous birds and shrubs were being supplanted by the introduced ones, so surely would the Maori disappear, before the pakeha. And this was no mere fancy. The abnormal condition of the population—the females far outnumbering tho males—was tho surest indication ol national decay. Every successive enumera tion of tho people told its sad talc, and the decrease must of necessity go on in a progressive ratio. In Cook's_ time tho Maori population was estimated at 100,000, and at the period of our first colonisation of tho islands at 70,000, and his own opinion was that at the present day thcydo not number—mon, women, and children—moro than 30,000. He knew of districts swarming with Maoris in former years now depopulated. He had known whole hapus disappear, and he had seen an entire family die out in tho course of a year. Twenty years ago ho was stationed as Native Resident MagistrateatManawatu, and he had then under his nominal control and management some 2,500 Maoris. It would be difficult now within tho samo dis trict to find as many hundreds. In 1856 he was present atltangitikeiwheh Dr. Feather ston paid over the purchase money of the Manawatu block, amounting to £25,000, and there were some 1,500 natives present. It was proposed to pay over to the natives, in a month's time, double that amount for the Otamakapua block, and he doubted whether in the same district 300 hundred will he brought together for that purposo, even counting the Hawke's Bay contingent! Last week he was at Otaki, and took somo visitors to the Maori church. There, whero formerly about 1,000 natives assembled to the ministrations of Archdeacon Hadfield (our present bishop), it seemed now difficult to fill tho front seats. In the settlement itself—veritably a "deserted village"— where formerly there were hundreds, it would be hard now to find scores; and, in answer to inquiries on all hands, the re sponse is "Klua mate." And in this con nection he mentioned a curious feature in the mortality of the race—namely, that the children and middle-aged peoplo are tho first to succumb, the old stock, who appear better able to resist the new order of things, generally holding out the longest. That the race was doomed he had no doubt what ever in his own mind. What had happened in other parts of the world must inevitably happen, and indeed is happening, here. The aboriginal race must in time give place to a more highly organised, or, at any rate a more civilised one. This seemed to be one of the inscrutable laws of Nature. And, if true to our watchword of progress —social, intellectual, and physical—he could scarcely believe that even the most earnest philo-Maori would deplore tho change. He had often reflected on an ob servation of tho late Dr. Featherston on their first meeting just 28 years ago: — " The Maoris (said he) are dying out, and nothing can save them. Our plain duty, as good, compassionate colonists, is to smooth clown their dying pillow. Then'history will have nothing to reproach us with." Ac cepting these facts, Dr. Buller insisted on its being the absolute duty of the society to collect materials for the future historian of the race. He said he had gone carefully through the 15 volumes of Transactions, • and out of more than a thousand articles on a variety of subjects only three dozen had any inference whatever to this subject. Mr Waterhouse said he had listened with great pleasure to the address, but he was surprised to hear so decided an opinion ex-< pressed as to the rapid decline of the Maori people. He thought this view was scarcely borne out by the official statistics; but that, on the contrary, the Maoris throughout the country were rather on the increase. Tho census returns might be accepted as rela tively correct, and it appeared to him, from an examination of these returns, that thero was a larger per-centage of children among the Maoris than among the French. If true, this would go to prove that the Maoris were. really on the increase. The subject was one of great interest, and he was glad to fcear from Dr. Buller that he intended during the coming year to contribute some papers to the Transactions, because there was pro bably no one more competent to deal with the matter. Dr. Newman said he entirely agreed with the President. He had himself on a previous occasion expressed his belief, at a meeting ■ of the Society, that the Maoris numbered only 35,000. He thought Dr. Buller was probably right in placing the number some what lower. On all hands were proofs of decrease, especially in the Hawke's Bay district, with which he had been more in timately connected. He had no faith in ' census returns. Even Mr Bryco had told him that these enumerations could not be reliod on, as every chiof was anxious to mako .. his following appear as largo as possible. Dr. Hector said it could not b,e denied that this very important subject hiadhithor to been neglected. He entirely concurred in the views put forward by Dr. Buller in regard to the Maori race. The census re turns were quite delusive, as he had satis fied himself oy careful inquiries in various parts of the country, and he gave the meet-. ing several instances in point. As to the urgent necessity for collecting a history of the Maori people, he was quite in accord with the President; and would suggest that the minutes of fee evidence in the Native Land Court should be carefully preserved, on account of the historical information they contained. Mr Hart and Captain Fraser expresse tho opinion that the Maori race were not decreasing. , A, , Dr. Buller said, in general reply, that his conclusions were not based on the evi dence of any particular locality, but were drawn from a pretty extensive knowledge of the various native districts. He hod instanced the Otaki district because it was at our very doors. But other districts with which he was equally familiar—Kaipara in! the far North, Waikato, Rotorua, Taupo Wanganui, &c.—all told the same melan choly tale. These districts were populous when ho first knew them, and now the natives might be counted by dozens where formerly there were hundreds. As to Maori census -returns, they were mere approximations, and very often misleading, as he could state from personal experience. He was much struck with the rapid mortality as disclosed also by native titles; and he mentioned several instances within his own professional knowledge where, in a cer tificate of title containing originally from 60 to 100 names, from 10 to 15 per cent, had died off in an incredibly short space of time. Amalgamation of races had been talked of, but this would not save the Maoris. The half castes were undoubtedly a fine people physically, but he had noticed • that when they married back into the Maori race the offspring had no stamina, and seldom reached maturity. He quite agreed with Dr. Hector about the value of the Land Court evidence, if carefully arranged and collated. He had succeeded once in in teresting Judge Fenton on this point, and circulars were then addressed to the various judges, asking them to hand over their note-books for public record, but he had never heard the result. For his own part for 20 years past he had been carefully pre serving everything of the kind.

Good Advice to the Girls.

THEEEwas quite an amusing, but by no means novel sight, to be ■ witnessed outside the Methodist Church on Sunday night, shortly before the close of the services. The sidewalks in front of tho church and adjacent buildings were lined with young hopefuls, with eyes fixed upon the portals, impatiently waiting for the coming of thoir dear ones within. A religious paper advises girls not to ■allow any young man to escort them home from church who is ashamed to be seen with them within. The strict adherence to this advice on the part of the girls throughout I the country could not fail to swell the number of church-goers.—From the " Mid '- dletown Mercury." ■>•'.'

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, APRIL 5, 1884

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A well-known society girl who made her debut last year is very indignant because some wretch sent her last week a bouquet of roses, imbedded in which was a tiny iyory- p_ay_.r-l.ook, with certain passages marked.



Standa_-_» Preparations just received at Aiciun's, The Pharmacy, • Queen-stroet. r Kepler's Extract o£ Malt two sizes; Kepler a Extract of Malt, with Cod Liver Oil; Kepler a Extract of Malt, with lodide, of Iron; Kepler s Extract of Malt, with Parrish's Food; EUZE iiNE: BorroiMth's Beef and Iron Wine; Fellows Syrup ot the _typOphosphltes, for Consumption; Fragrant Sozooont for the Teeth (3s & .per bottle); Eno's Fruit Salt; Bishop's Efferyescing. Carlsbad Baits, Vioby Salt, ana Citrate cf Lithia.