the beautiful girl, smiling upon him, saucily. "By the way you talk ono would think your poor insignificant little cousin a cruel, treacherous Circe, or a horrible Gorgon bent upon your destruction. Now, Freddy dear, come down from stilts, and declare what it is I have done."

" You know well enough. You do not need to have me speak a singlo word of ex planation. You laugh at me as if I were a silly boy."

"Why then do you behave liko one?" asked she, roguishly.

A red flush mounted to his very forehead.

" Can a man help his fate ?" answered he passionately, "it was mino to love you, cruel, pitiless, but peerlessly beautiful one ! And it was my right too," he added, in a sullen bitter tone.

"Of course. Are we not cousins but once removed 1 We ought to bo very good friends, as we were always affectionate play fellows, Fred. Come, come, be a good bay, and put oil this unamiable mood, and you shall have this other lovely blossom for your breast-knot."

" Ay, take up with the cool cousinly ways —good nature one minute, and ridicule and caprice the next. No, I thank you, my Lady Hortense !" he answered pettishly. ''Give me the opening blush rose there or nothing."

" I told you before that I was saving that for Konrade," answered the girl, cresting her slender neck defiantly, and flashing upon him her first earnest glance.

" For Konrade. Everything is for Konrade now! I wish—"

" You need not wish anything wicked and cruel, sirrah. Your silly jealousy shall not be allowed to go so far as that, " retorted she, with spirit. " For the sake of our old cousinly friendship, I have ignored your absurd ways, but I warn you that my patience is nearly exhausted. You are my cousin. I have very kindly and affectionate regard for you, but—Konrade Earle is my betrothed husband!"

How clear and rich tho silvery tones rang out! What proud, glad content shone over the girl's face as she spoke these words, slowly and deliberately !

The sight drove away what little sense Sir Frederic had retrained.

" Your betrothed husband it may be," declared he, angrily; "nevertheless an im postor and villain. I warn you that his proceedings will not bear investigation. I tell you that he deceives you with all the rest. Where is he now? What becomes of him during these long and mysterious absences? Investigate, my proud cousin, and you may find that the immaculate hero is not so far abore the despised and rejected Teddy.'

The girl's beautiful eyes fairly blazed up on him their contemptuous scorn. She chose the words that should sting most sharply in return, and spoke them icily :

" It is a new character for a Mildmay that of a backbiter and cowardly maligner' I think my grandmother should hear you. Sir Fredeinc. Thank Heaven, Konrade Earle is as far above your petty slanders as yonder sun above the fear of any eclipse from the feebler lights below it."

"It is no slander, but the simple truth," vociferated the youth, still more angrily. '" Tell me now whe-> you believe these lost thrie months have been spent ?" She arched her neck proudly, and held contemptuous silence.

"I do not need your answer. You told me long long ago that he was down in Wales, at his shooting-box. Your letters have come from there. Well, I took a journey that way myself, called upon the gentleman, and found the place in posses sion of a single man, who informed me that his master had not been down this season •at all. What do you say to that, my lady 1 I found, too, that his letters were sent thither to be mailed. What does that ■mean ?"

" That it makes no sort of difference in ray opinion, saving that I blush for any re lative of mine who stoops to the prying ways of a police detective," returned she, coldly.

" You have full faith in Konrade Earle ?" "I have implicit, unfaltering faith in him," returned she,1 calmly. "Don't be too certain. What if I tell you that there is a man from over the water secretly on the watch for your hero's re appearance 1 What if I can prove that he •actually arrived in Liverpool a short time since, coming from America in the steamer ?"

"Were it true it is a very insignificant affair. Has he not a perfect right to visit America as often as he pleases?" she re turned, coldly.

"But why wrap such a mystery about his movements ? Hortense, believe me, this is not all idle jealousy of the fortunate rival who has won my heart's idol away from me. It is a loving heart's solicitude for your happiness and danger of shipwreck. "Look to it, I beseech you ! As he grew calmer the girl seemed to wax -warmer and fiercer. A rich crimson gathered in her cheeks, a feverisli lustre glittered in 'her eyes, and she stamped that tiny satin 7 ■slippered foot again and again, as she as sailed him.

" You need not think to impose upon me with the idea that this is all solicitude for Tny welfare. I know it for the envious jealous plot it is. For shame, Fredoric Mildmay ! I never thought you would stoop ■to such an unmanly, dastardly pai-t."

She stood thus, the slender, diminutive •figure drawn to its utmost height/ the beautiful face glowing with angry scorn, and he had only eyes and ears for her. Therefore the first that eithor knew of any entrance, a clear, calm voice spoke gravely: '' Hortensof my child—Frederic, what childish unbecoming quarrel is this f ■ The girl turned quickly toward the tall and still stately and imposing figure, and bent her haughty head deprecatingly. , . " Grandmamma, I did not hear you enter. Pardon me, I beg." And hastily wheeling forward aluxuriouß easychair, she seated the new-comer with reverential tenderness of look and air.

The younrjgentleman, with a vain attempt to assume a. composed look, was at the same I;ime bringing forward a velvet ottoman for lerfeet. *

It did not need a second glance, even for obtuse observer, to discern that this woman, notwithstanding her age and delicate health, was still a reigning queen in society, and no ordinary character. A fine, gracious benignity asserted itself al- Tnost unconsciously in every look and ges ture, and she possessed also in a rare de gree that old-time, exquisite courtesy of "manner that is alike the admiration ;and •despair of modern drawing-rooms and courts.

" Thanks, Frederics; thanks, dear child. am very comfortable. I«et vit& see you both seated before Sir Frederic tolls me the latest news from the Heronry." The young people obeyed her, the girl flinging a bright, irate glance toward the discomposed face of the youth, while she busied herself in a pretty pantomino of brushing out and setting into place | the fluttering flounces of her" airy dress.

A brief conversation, framed in the most polite language, ensued between the youth and the elderly lady, concerning the county news, the latest political change, and the little gossip of their own tenantry. Then the dowager turned her clear, penetrating eyes from one sullen face to the other de fiant one, and laying one i band upon her

granddaughter's fair head, held out the other to Sir Frederic, and said tenderly : "Now, my children, tell me what foolish misunderstanding has clouded the affec tionate regard of my young kinspcople. Sir Frederic, you represent the head of the jMildraay house now. It is your right to speak first. Let me hear your version."

"Othor rights have been waived — let that also be passed by," answered the youth, quickly, his grievance again rising with masterful force. " I prefer that Lady Hortense should speak first. She gave me some hard words. Let her show you where in I am an unmannerly dastard." " Hortenso ■ — wilful, capricious as your playful nature makes you, I never believed you could be so unkind—insolent—and to the head of the house."

The girl's eye did not blanch

"He assailed Konrado Earle, grand mamma, and I defended him, as was my duty. If Frederic wishes for my respect, let him hold himself as becomes a Mildmay, and not turn into a malicious enemy. He has grown so troublesome and quarrelsome of late as to be almost unendurable : that is the truth, grandmamma. He oven de clares thatlie lias been somehow cheated of his rights. You heard what he said just now."

Theeo words were spoken so swiftly and impetuously that the elder lady had no opportunity to check them. Her proud patrican faco did not ilush, only grew a shade paler, toward the gentleman, though it was evident he was deeply moved. "Speak, Frederic," she said authorita tively. And without looking back to those penetrating eyes, he returned promptly : " Very well. I will speak, dear madam, and remember it was at your command, if what I say displeases you. It is true that I am dissatisfied with my kinswoman's en gagement to this Konrade Earle, and if, as you say, lam the head of the house, surely I have a right to express my sentiments." "You have a right ; certainly you have the right, Sir Frederic," murmured the dowager, softly r " Nevertheless, tho whole arrangement was perfected without any reference to my opinion," continued he, gaining confidence. "Because you were so young, Frederic. And becauseHortense is my granddaughter, and I have hitherto held command here not lightly or unworthily, I trust—" " Not even he would dare insinuate that, dearest grandmother,"cried the girl,seizing the white, slender fingers and kissing them fondly. "You know ve ry well that the Mildmay honour and spotless escutcheon has been upheld most grandly of all by these dear hands. The whole country ven erates and adores you, the United Kingdom Rives tribute to your worth and goodness, the very sovereign herself has bestowed royal commendation. Even the ingrate yonder dares not insinuate that you have ever dealt unjustly here."

"No, no, dear madam. Ido not believe yoB have ever knowingly been unjust. \ et I cannot tell the truth, and claim my rights without acknowleding that I believe you have made a great mistake," inter posed the youth.

" Your rights again," repeated the dow ager. ".Yei, I see that there is some truth behind this angry excitement. You have been morbi lly brooding over, some fancied wrong or slight. Speak out freely, and let me understand your grievances now to the fullest extant. And before you commence, I solemnly assure you I have not the faintest suspicion wherein they are violated." "Can that be possible ¥' demanded he, impetuously. " Have you foagotten that from my boyhood I was brought up to look upon Hortense aa my future wife?" Theslendcr white handsdroppod together, and the gem-decked fingers locked them selvea in a fierce grip. This was the only visible sign of any rising emotion. "An idle proposition mode for a pair of babies. That is the most you can make of it," answereds he, calmly. "My son, Sir Richard, out of his great love for his dead wife, declared that he should never marry again or have a male heir, and thus naturally he looked upon his cousin's boy as the future head of the Mildmay family. I remember now that there was one day a playful proposition that the children should unite the fortune and honours of the old house. But during the later years of my son's life I never even heard an allusion to it."

" It was confidently counted upon at the Heronry," declared Frederic, stoutly. " Itmaybe. It would naturally be a matter of more consequence there. Yet that would not give you authority to claim an engagement. If you have been cherishing such hopes I am deeply grieved for your p.iin and disappointment, but I cannot allow you to assume it to be a right violated. Her father's solemn charge and blessing gave Hortense to the present betrothal. I cannot tell either of you my great joy and unutterable relief when I found that my granddaughter's heart went with her vows. If this is the sum of your grievance, Frederic, I cannot uphold you, though I may be grieved myself at your disappoirit ment."

"It is not all. I would try to crush my love for Hortense, and bear my pain man fully, if I believed my rival more worthy of her than I. But I have told her, and I warn you that a veil of mystery hangs over him, and shadows all his movements. I believe him to be, dealing falsely with her. 1 know that he has deceived her—that suspicion is dogging his footsteps even now It is for her sake that I bid you watch him closely." "Hush! such grave words of calumny must not bo lightly spokon," interrupted the dowager. "I told him so!" cried Hortense, trramphantly. "I told him that nothing he could say -would affect Konrade's noble character."

"By heavens! I will give myself to bringing proofs instead of words !" exclaimed Frederic Mildmay, passionately; "then, perhaps, you will give some heed to my Judgment and advice. I wish you good day, ladies."

And before they could interpose, 'the impetuous youth had darted from the room.

{To be Continued.)

The Bad and Worthless

are, never imitated, or counterfeited. This is especially tmo of a family medicine, and it is positive proof that the remedy imitated ia of the highest value. As soon as it had been tostod and proved by the whole world that Hop Bitters was the purest, best, and most valuablo family medicine on earth, many imitations sprung up, and bogan to steal the notices in which thePreep and tho people of the country had expressed the merits of H. 8., and in every way trying to induce stiffering invalids to use their stufl instead, expecting to make money on the credil and good name of H. B. Many others started nostrums put up in similar stylo to H. 8., with variously devised names in. which the word r,o^SP« ° v i ops were llsed m a way to induce E!?&, to. b I f hevl they were tho Borne as Hop r?A Z U AU guoh pretended remedies orcures; no matter what their style or name is, and "Jose with the word-- "Hop" ot wiX P fi,m their name or in any way connected

A LADY'S LETTER FROM LONDON.

Feminine Facts, Fancies, and Frivolities.

(By Elise.)

Tin-; coming Christmas—Shopping in Decem ber — Christmas Cards — Fashionable Weddings — Tiik SeLHORRE - Salishcry Union — Brides' Dresses — Theatrical Novelties—Production ojt " Gilette " at the Royalty—A Semi Failure—"Lords and Commons" at TUB Haymakket—a Success—Christmas Novelties—"Talka" —Principal Songs—Vekse of "At Eve.v- TIDK "—The Lingards—Musical Annuals- New Books and New Editions—"Tnv Name is Truth "—Cheat Re-issues—New Designs in Christmas Cards, &c, &c.

London, December 1. Dk.vr. Mr. Editor, —I must apologise for not writing to you last week, but the fact is wo have, as usual,a number of friends stay ing with us for the Cattle Show, and I am so busy I scarcely know what to do first. The month immediately preceding Christ mas is always a delightful time in London, but this year I think it promises to be specially enjoyable. Tho weathor, so far, has been wonderfully fine, the shops are full of all sorts of interesting novelties, and Bond-street about four in the afternoon seems even more crowded than during the height of the season. A walk down Uegent street just now is one of the greatest treats you can give a country cousin. Our visitors spent a good part of yesterday out shopping, and came home in raptures. They were loaded with nic-nacs for Christ mas presents, and had bought a -small wheel barrow full of the new cards, about which, by the-by, I mustnotforget totellyou seme thing later on. The rage for sending friends Christmas and New Year's cards has in creased enormously since the designs became so beautiful and varied. Some make scrap-books of them, others racks and fans for the mantelpiece. My friend Mrs Ponsonby has a most exquisite morning room screen made out of an artistic com bination of all the prettiest designs for the last two years. She told me that though she had used more that GOO cards its entire cost was only £13.

The marriage of Lord "Wolmer to Lady Maud Cecil came off a few days after I posted my last letter, so that I daresay you have already heard a good deal about it. My friend Mrs Ponsonby got tickets for the galleries at St. Andrew's, and persuaded me to go with her. I never before saw such a great assemblage of "society " mag nates out of season. Many had come up from the country specially for the occasion, and all the ladies were exquisitely dressed. The bride is a rather tall girl, very ilustinqwi in appearance, but scarcely beautiful. She wore the usual costume of white satin ducJicsse trimmed with orange blossoms and countless flounces of tine Brussels lace. Hex ornaments were nearly all diamonds, and exceptionally splendid. Five stars of large brilliants, which fixed the tulle veil, glittered like electric lights in her hair, and a superb bracelet of sapphires and diamonds was also conspicuous. The bridesmaids were d ressed alike, in a curious combination of coffee coloured lace and white surah, the bonnets consisting almost entirely of feathers of similar shades. I didn't altogether like the idea, but my taste must be indifferent, for most of those round us greatly admired the toilette. The various tints of brown are very popular just now. Princess Christian, who was present, wore brown brocaded velvet trimmed with sable, and so did the Hon. Agneta Montagu nnd Lady Salisbury. Lady Selborne looked handsome in prune satin and velvet, but the cynosure of all eyes were two young ladies—one in myrtle green silk, trimmed with iridescent beads, and the other in terra-cotta. They formed a striking but effective contrast, and were evidently aware of the fact.

Another " swell" wedding celebrated since I last wrote wag that of Mr Michael Shaw-Stewart to Lady Alice Thynne. I could not manage to be present on this occasion, but my chatty friend " Madge " was, and to her I am indebted for the fol lowing descriptions ofthe dresses, &c. "It was," Miss Madge declares* "a pretty wedding, and very refreshingly quiet, as a contrast witli a certain recent noisy jubilant celebration of the sort. The bride is very tall and slight, and looked the embodiment of the poet's simile of the lily in her white draperies. Her gown was an improvement on the stereotyped arrangement, the petti coat being trimmed with .some magnilicent old point d'Alencon and with thickly strewn blossoms of white carnations, hyacinths, orange blossoms and white Scotch roses, the latter in compliment to the bridegroom, whose nationality is Scottish. The bodice and train were of white satin, and the veil was of the loveliest old lace, an heirloom in the family. Its colour was that peerless tint of age that people vainly endeavour to impart to modern lace by giving it a bath in tea. Have you ever observed the inimitably soft and graceful folds into which old lace inevitably falls ? They were par ticularly noticeable on the bride's tall figure. She wore no jewels, but carried a lovely bouquet, which was much better suited to her youth than diamonds and pearls. You see, the flowers could never have been at a wedding before, whereas the jewels may have been at any number, so that they miss the suggestion of freshness given by the bridal bouquet. Two of the bridesmaids were, like the bride, "more than common tall, "and two more were tiny creatures, so that the charm of diversity was imported into the procession. All were dressed in white nun's veiling over white lace skirts, the veiling being edged with three rows of narrow gold braid, and the bodices also, with the addition of gold ball fringe. Their bonnets were quite delicious, being of white felt, in the shape worn by the Princess of Wales in her last photograph. The trimming was of gold braid, white satin ribbon, and a white nigrette The two child bridesmaids also wore bonnets. The " grown-up " associations with the bonnet made a fine contrast with the pretty little child-faces. It was to be regretted that one bridesmaid spoiled the general effect by wearing her hair down upon her shoulders. Mr and Mrs Gladstone were present, the former looking as youthfully gay as ever. I heard a lady coveting the lovely old lace that trimmed Mrs Gladstone's blue velvet costume. A very pretty woman wore a. costume of sang-de-hoitif vigogne, trimmed with marabout to match. Her bonnet was of felt, also of the same tint, with folds of velvet for trimming. Such amass of red would have been intolerably trying to any other complexion than those rich yet sub dued and most harmonious tints of the typical " nutte-browne mayde." A lovely girl wore blue, with a large black hat. An other lady had a mantlo which became the cynosure of neighbouring eyes. Made of some brown material, it was embroidered in a Chinese or Japanese design in silver of so beautiful a texture and tint that we thought at first it must be mother-o'-pearl. Oriental workmanship imparts to silver this added charm. The earrings worn by the lady in question consisted of very large pearls, beautifully matched.

The most important theatrical novelties brought out in November were "Lords

find Commons" at the Haymarkct, and "Gilette" at the Hoyalty. The latter proved a .sad failure. Xot only is the piece itsulf inherently weak, but on the first night the company only half knew their parts, and the whole thing narrowly escaped "guying." As it was, the gallery became disagreeably playful after the first act, and chaired some of the performers persistently. A fat chorus-girl with padded legs and a dcoaletuo dress was requested to wear more on her neck and less on her calves; and when the conductor of the band handed up a gigantic bouquet to Kate Santley (who is proprietor of the theatre as well as prima donna), a sarcastic petite wanted to know whether it was generously " presented to her by the management." You would not believe the music of " Gilette " was by the composer of " Olivette" and the "Mas cotte" unless you were told so. A rondo describing the adventures of " Sergeant Timothy " (sung by Aliss Santley) was the only number throughout the whole opera encored. In fact, with this exception, the composer's elForts excited no applause whatever. .Most people can't understand why " Gilette " was produced. The libretto seems even duller than the music. Here is the story. Gilette,. an Italian village girl of lively temperament, saves the life of King Rone of Xaples, who in return pledges himself to grant any favour she may like to ask. Gilette demands the hand of Count Raymond, of Provence, a handsome young courtier, who, whilst owing special alle giance to His Jlajesty, declines to bo married offhand to a common village girl. The King, however, insists, and tluj wed ding takes place, but directly after the cere mony the Count announces that he will never notice or in any way acknowledge Cilette till she wears on her hand the diamond signet ring that now adorns his. Gilette at once determines to achieve 'ibis end, and soon persuades a married friend of hers to get up a flirtation with the Count,.in the course of which he parts with the ring. Ro.sita (that is the sprightly matron's name) hands on the ring to Gilette, and the latter calls on the Count to redeem his pledge. Of course he does, and down comes the curtain.

Interest in the production of the new comedy at the Haymarket was much en hanced by the fact that nobody knew or had heard anything about it beyond the author's name. As a rule, this seldom happens in London. There are so many flaneurs on the look-out for items of theatrical intelligence that it is almost im possible to keep the drift of any really im portant novelty a secret. On the present occasion, however, the actors held their tongues bravely. A week before the first performance even the title of the new piece was uncertain ; in fact, I only knew it was to be called " Lords and Commons \ when I saw the play-bill.

The house (as is usual at the premieres of the Lyceum, St. James's and Haymarket) was a wonderful sight. Looking round the stalls and dress-circle,, one's eyes lit on one celebrity after another. To quote that amusing Mr Sala, "everybody who can be c;illed anybody" makes a point of being present on these occasions, and as a conse quence " little bodies" (likeourselves) find it exceedingly difficult to obtain an entree. The family circle, pit, and gallery are of course public property, but ladies cannot go thero ; and even if they could, I'm afraid no novelty in the world would tempt me to wait outside a theatre a couple of hours (as some enthusiasts do) in order to secure a seat.

" Lords and Commons " proved a success, but rather by virtue of its clever dialogue than of the story it had to tell. The curtain rises on Caryl Court, a rich and remarkably solid interior,, including a more than usually real stage fire—l mean a grate fire, not a conflagration. The property is about to be vacated by Earl Caryl, his sister Lady Nell, and the Counter Dowager, for, through the extravagance of the late Earl, the family has become poor through retaining of Lucifer. The Purchaser is an American lady, Mrs Devenish, who is insulted first through her rough Californian agent, Tom Jervoise, and then personally by the ab surdly haughty Caryls. She retaliates by declaring tier intention to sell the family portraits, and makes vague allusions to a wrong done to herself by some one of blue blood, and though the Caryls pay no heed to them, the audience does ; the first act concluding with a. situation suggestive of coming interest, which is well, for the garullxty of an aged domestic had rather neutralised the effects of the good points so far. Inthesecond actaweek haselapscd,and we rind.that the old. Countess is still at Caryl Court an invalid, and the son and daughter therefore demean themselves by entering the house of the commoner, Mrs Devenish. The latter has the impertinence to offer Lord Caryl the otlice of overseer in some lead mines on the estate, and his tremendously indignant refusal leads to a very important disclosure. It seems that 14 years ago the Earl, when almost a boy, had married by his parents' wish, the pre sumed daughter of another peer then on the point of death. When he dies the girl turns out to be the child of a plebeian mistress, and the. family is naturally struck with horror. The young wife, rinding herself despised, disappears; but we have little diiiiculty in recognising her identity with MrsDevenish. In thethird actit is apparent that the lady has captivated Lord Caryl, and after an effective scene he accepts the post she has offered to him. Meanwhile the dowager has grown to like the new owner of the estate, and Lady Nell is found flirting with the Californian agent, Tom Jervoise. The denouement may bo easily guessed. The Earl declares his passion, Mrs pevenish declares herself, and in two other instances people whoa week before were separated by the gulf between aristocracy and democracy pair off in the most satis factory manner.

I am told there are to bo two great West End " annuals" this winter—" Cinderella " atDrury Lane, and "Red Riding Hood," with the popular Yokes Family in the principal parts, at Her Majesty's Opera House. In addition to these we shall, of course, have lees pretentious Christmas pieces at the Avenue, Crystal Palace, and Imperial Theatres, and thirteen or fourteen old-fashioned pantomimes at the East End houses. Tom took some country cousin* to the Gaiety the other night, and found " Ariel " had been worked up wonderfully. If you -want two really pretty waltzes get Nelly Farrea's "The Ship Goes Up, Up, Up," and "The Boulogne Fisherwoman." "Talka" is drawing immense crowds to the Comedy Theatre, but I don't think people will go two or three times to see it, as they did to "Rip Van "Winkle" and "Boccaccio." These are only about four melodious ditties in the whole opera. The prettiest is the " Bofiemian Chorus " in the second act, commencing '' Hark '. the Merry Gypsy Band," and the most " catchy " the "Rondo of Boleslaa " in the first. Miss Violet Cameron sings an in terpolated ballad in the third act, entitled "At Eventide," which was written especially for her by Planquette, and is very effective. You will be ablo to get it at any music-seller's for two shillings. Here is the first verse— At eventide the shades are stealing. No longer is the organ pealing, And, cold and pallid aa her dress, The abbess says, " My child, confess." " Oh. my mother, toll me i£ love Be of earth only or heav'n above."

"Love is a sin, my child. Sin.-.. ijii.sjr.vyH-.M-I.lbcßan lonian is aye be-.-inled ; -And iilwajs it is num. Cliild.^if my' n ui-ds he aught.

Still I am only ;i woman, And my heart. I'm uliimi, !■* but human— (Orapro mo!) On.; there is to me iiu- nearest ; He's the hope of my 1,.-:irf, and the dearest. Ora pro me ) - Thanks to the clever acting of your old friend, Mis.s Lingard, "The Glass of Fashion" has had a very fair run of 50 nights at the Globe, and may still hold out till Christmas, when Mr I'inerns's "Low Water "isto be produced. Miss Lingard I think you already know, goes to the new Princes Theatre directly it opens to piny tho heroine of the English version of " Divor eons." Horace Lingard is still in London. By-the-by, the young Duncombo who re cently married the music-hall singer, Kate Leamar, is a cousin of the Captain Dun combe who visited Auckland and Christ church in IS7H, and got mixed up with one of Emily Soldene's troupe. The Learners are very pretty, but not at all nice girls- Their best duets—" One Kiss More " and "Mind You Inform Your Father"—have just been published in " Shoard's Comic Annual " for ISBI, which also contains Bar rett's " Ncb-c-man's Son," and Henri Clarlrtt absurd ditty, "Just as You Are for Nine pence," besides the music and words of a lot of other comic songs. The Duke of Albany's " Fontainblean "Waltzes" are sadly commonplace—in fact, not to be men tioned in the same breath as Prince Alfred's "Galatea." I fear, though, we shall hear them everywhere now. And now for a few words about books. Have you been reading "A Woman's Roa3on,"in " Harper's Magazine?" Jfnot, procure the back numbers and begin at once. I have not, I am ashamed to say, got through it myself yet, but the reviewers bubble over with praises, and Tom says he has not enjoyed a work of fiction so much since he finished " Altiona Peto." Another novel much above the average bears tho peculiar title, " Thy Name is Truth." It was published anonymously but in now un derstood to be by the daughter of tho pro prietor of the Dublin "Freeman's Jonrnal,** and has achieved a thoroughly bona fide success.. The workings of a big newspaper office in England are admirably described, and one is given a startling glimpse of Irish troubles from the Nationalist point of view. I took up Justin McCarthy's " Maid of Athens," expecting an exceptional treat. Of course I was disappointed; one always is in such cases. " Maid of. Athens" opens well, but the interest dies away long before the end of the second volume, and the thin], which in some hands would have been the best, simply bores you. Mr McCarthy's mest suecessful'bock is" un questionably "Miss Misanthrope." I ro memberenjoyingitimmensely. "Frescoes," a series of short "stories by " Ouida," and a 5s edition of "Bimbi" (capital stories for children) have been published. Cheap editions of Trollope's "Mr Scarborough's Family " and Mrs A. Hunt's " Self-Con demned " are also out, and Ward, Dock and Tyler have issued Mrs Burnett's famous novel, "Through One Administra tion," at ss. Lady Bloomfield promises a new edition of her racy "Reminiscences" at 6s. The " Recollections of Mary Russell Mitford" and "Journals of Caroline Fox " (both most interesting works) hare already been re-published at this price. Tom brought home a bundle ot Christ mas annuals last Saturday, and I'm afraid I spent Sunday afternoon trying to dis cover if there was anything worth reading' amongst them. " Under the Red Flag " is the title of Miss Braddon's novelette in tho " Mistletoe Bough." She has laid the scene in Paris during the siege, and depicts boldly all the horrors of the Commune. The story, however, is slight, and the char acters commonplace. Infinitely superior from every point of view will be found Walter Besant's " A Glorious Fort-mo" (tho winter number of "All the Year Round "), one of the best tales of the kind I'vo read since "The Captain's Room," and a great advance on the author's last year's effort, "Let Nothing You Dismay." Yoo must all lay out sixpence on this annual at any rate. Poor old "Johnny"—the soli tary settler amongst the mountains, who, forgetful of poverty, and a weak ness for whisky, writes home onco a month long and rapturous descrip tions of the "glorious fortune" he has accumulated—ia one of the strangest of Besant's creations. Equally amusing, to®, are the pompous but simple-heartedl Astronomer (witli Ins "great theory" as to the world being flat) and Georiana, the daughter who believes in him. The plot, moreover, rises considerably above the level of most short stories, and the heroine is one of the charming (rirls tho author draws so well. Franeillion's " A Great Heiress" ("Grant's Annual") will not set the ThameH on fire, but as a fairly faithful picture of the country at the time of tho Luddite riots it may do to fill up n leisure half-hour or b« guilo a dull journey. Farjeon's " Little Make-Believe" (" Tinsley's Annuals") closely resembles " Bread-and-Cheese-and Kisses" and half-a-dozen othor Christmas stories of his. "Funny Folks' Annual " I can recommend. It is only sixpence, and crammed full of real humour. " London Society" Christmas number consists of & lot of mediocre short stories, and so does the "Belgravian Annual." "Harper's "is not; out yet.

The new lotof Christmas cardsare scarcely so orifriti.il as last year's, but comprise some of the most exquisite designs in flowers I have ever eeen. The favourite ground works seem to be Russia leathor and kid, which are used in every con ceivable shade, the flowers being painted by hand Mother-of-pearl, ivorine, and ebony have al3o grown in popularity as back grounds, but I don't think they look half as nice as the white or tinted satins. All the best designs are printed on satin a» well as on cards nowadays, and the difference in cast is so trifling that I should always give the preference to the former, which can be made up into pin-cushions, fans, photo-cases, or other useful articles. The most popular " seta " this year seem likely to be three dog's head* called "Queer Cards," some wonderful storks and geese, and Wilfred Ball's ex quisite portfolios of etchings of Stratford on-Avon and North Wales. The American steel engravings still hold their own as the most artistic of all Christmas novelties. They are "utterly-utter, consummate, too too " —io fact, indescribably beautiful.

A well-known female thief succeeded re cently, at Nottingham, in taking away tk trunk from the Midland Railway Station unobserved, and was naturally overjoyed. When, however, shn opened the trunk, and found it to be filled with the body of a cMlct in spirits, a human leg, and other peculiar articles of value, her emotions were so mixed that she surrendered to the police, and is now disappointed to find that instead of having unearthed some atrocious crime,, she had only betrayed herself as the un witting thief of medical " specimens."-™* "Globe." •Alette's Intajtts' Food—or Malted Phos phates (barley and wheat).—Thia sweet nntri ment is a close imitation and substitute for mother's milk. Children get fat and enjoy gooi health under this diet. "Tho most wholesome food for your baby." Try it. — Prepared at Tho. Pharmacy, Quoen-street. Price, Is £er canister^

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, JANUARY 19, 1&84

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