Audrey's Recompense.

B yMRS (JEORIUE SHELDON, 0 ( •• Brownie's Triumph," " The For Bride, "Stella Itosovolt," "Tho Lily of Slordaunt," etc.

CHAPTER I

WHAT AUDREY FOUND,

tw ilight of a midsummer day was ttling over a quiet, beautiful town not far f^oO the metropolis of New York. The sun bad long since rollei majestically down be hind tbo distant mountains, leaving a ittison glow. liko a rosy curtain • tnen t evening shadows foldod themselves ently nbont all things, and tho day was Aqoßm a little away from the town thero was oloaant residonc'o — tbo prido of the 6IJ , country around—and this, with its <: ely-kept grounds, which had something (tho Air of atl English park, aoomod al mt like « paradise, where only beauty and Hppiness could reign Bupromo. Beauty tlioro was, whorovortho oyomight •» • but happiness—alas !it had boon an JJtcast from tho placo for moro than six '"If rich ileoptonod bell upon a distant lurch tower tollod eight musical notes, d as the last stroke echood on the oven ?" ft i r , a slender, graceful figuro, clad in nibre black, aroso from a rustic soat noar innrblo fountain, not far from the mansion nf which we havo boon writing, and walked ltohtly across tho green sward to tho moathly gravolled walk which led to the This walk was bordered with magnificent treoi- maples and olms-and their heavy foliage meeting above it seemed to onwrap in sudden gloom aa sho came into it- , . ill at ouce she stopped and raised her head-a regal head it wrvs, too—and the doso of her whole figure at that momont moclaimcd tho lady of noble brooding and Lli Mlture And Buch in truth was tho only daughter oftholntoHon. Dudley Waldomar, a wealthy Mitleman, a retired politician, and a man ft the noblest stamp. ii was that noise ? —what did I hear?" sho murmured, and tho tono was «lear and musical. ghe stood listening for a moment, and a low gobbing sound came distinctly to hor

It 'seemed to proceed from bohind a hugo tree near by, and Miss Waldemar walked directly to tho spot to investigate tho She found thero, at tho foot of the tree, a little figure lying prono upon the ground, and bitterly weeping. Audrey Waldomar stooped nnd gently uid hor hand upon tho child's hoad. With a frightened cry, ho instantly jprang to n' a ioet anc* sto°d trembling bo- Ho was a littlo boy, porhaps five yoars of

He would have Hod, but sho caught him by the hand and held him fast. 11 What is it, little one ? What makos you cry so!" sho asked, and tho Bweot voico would havo bound him now, without {he detaining hand; but groat sobs still heaved his little chest and made it difficult for him to answer hor questions. 11 How came you horo, littlo boy, and what hMgriovod you likothis ?" sho as Iced again. i>ShQslai>pedmo-ehe called mo 'iibegyar' nd told mo to clear out !" and with this excited rehearsal of his wrongs and tho ac companying sense of indignity, the child burst into renowcd sobbing. "Who slapped you? Who called you a bogenr?" demanded Audrey, quietly. "Tbo woman withthobigapron and cap," and ho pointod towards Mica Waldemar's residonca as he spoke. " Why did eho striko you ? eho ques tioned, gravely. '"Cause-1 asked her- would sho give me a bite." "Are you hungry, littlo boy?' How tender and pitiful tho sweet voice sounded ! "Ob, yes— so hungry!" ho answered, plaintively. "tome with mo, Miss Waldemar com manded, in a low voico "Whore?" tho child asked, in a fright wed tone. " Back to the house from which you have last come. Do not fear " sho added re isuringly, while she clasped his little land in hers, " for lam mistress hero, and you shall havo all you wish to eat," Ho instantly ceased his crying and wont with her. Miss Waldetuar did not speak again un til eho reached tho broad granite stops leading up to tho houso. Then sho stopped baneath tho great lant ern which hung over them and which had just been lighted, and turning tho child to the light, ehe asked : "Who are you? What is your name? The boy lilted his head at the question, revealing a palo, pinched face, a pair of great lustrous black oyes, sharp, but beau tifully regular features, and a sweet child ish mouth. "Rich," ho said, in reply to her query, but regarding hor with a wondering, do- Sgnted gaze, for tho lamp disclosed to him a fair, beautiful faco, a pair of cad yot tender blue eyes that looked at him from benoath a crown of sunny hair, which gleamed like gold between tho moshes of the black lace ecarf which she had thrown overket head. "Rich?" ehe repeated, "that does not BRiee very well with tho name which you , jay the cook called you a littlo whilo ago" .—a Bmile Bitted across her sad fa»e at tho thought-" Rich what ?" sho added, inquir "l'don't know—that is all," he answered, briefly, but still gazing at hor with a rapt look, as if she wore the most beautiful bomg he had ever seen. "Where do you Hvo?" "With Madge" "Who is Madge 2" "She is-Madge," tho boy returned, with a perplexed expression. The lady bmiled again. " Well, where does Madge live ? '.'Over tbere, by the mill," he returned, with a motion of his hand to indicate some ipot quite distant from tho mansion. Hiss Waldemar sighed ; it was evident that ehe could not obtain much information from him. "Well, never mind, we must not forget that you are hungry," she said, and, turn ing, led him into the house. A cry of wonder and delight burst from him as he entered tho lofty, beautiful hall, with its inlaid floor and rich rugs scattered here and there, its great chandelier all iblaie with light, and the rare pictures and carvings which met his view. Evidently it wa3 like an enchanted palace to this poor little waif, and a flush of intercut lighted Audrey Waldomar's face as Ac marked his pleasure and appreciation of the beautiful things around him. She led him up the richly-carpeted Btau-s tothe second floor, whero sbo encountered a servant, who uttered an exclamation of ainaiement as she saw her mistress bo tfrangely accompanied. "It U only a little boy who is hungry, Martha," Mire Wnldomar explained, adding: "Come and waah his face and hands for me, 'hen I will take him down and give him something to eat." , The child did not demur, but submitted to the cleansing process a« if ho really tojoyed it, while ho regarded his luxurious Wrroundings with mingled wonder and interest.

H« touched the marble basin and its silver fauceta with hia little hands, as if to »f what they were made, and fjghed with glee when tho maid turned »"|>of them and a jet of clear, sparkling water (lashed out into a bowl,

Ha searched the girl's face with grave Wlfiosity, as if to find out whether she was "Wly disposed toward him, and, somewhat upon this p?int, he ventured to smooth her white apron, touching it almost '"Mtionately, as if its spotlessness was a grateful tight to liim ; and when ehe had combed and arranged his tangled raven 'Mks, and held him up to tho mirror which *ia sucpended above the bowl, and he saw "ere his own rosy fee with the curling "^8 of hair lying thipk upon his forehead, criei'out: !' Oh! what a nrettv boy !" -Miss WaldeniartaiiJ'hed aloud. .fler servant startcd*nnd shot a glance of 'wmishment at her, for it was tho (ir*t """id of tho kind whicTi she had known to ""apa Miss Walieaiar's lips for long years.

(I " Ye», it truly 13 a pretty boy," sho said. But Rid, did you never ace joursolf

w ,Y°B," he answored, with a sigh ; " bat ™jgo nev . ev m(lI , B mo ]ook i;k o that r6™>Ps she didn't k now bow." .Well, come now and you shall have in i Upp°r'" Audrey Rail « nm] turning, i; 8.1?''ths bath room, beckuniht; llio maid »follow with the ohUd.

SSsSSMk Ittllli disagreeable to you. I found him in tho avenue crying with hunger." and chfrllrn" Ml ßa Wall6mar>B companion. <ma etiaperone, bestowed a elanee of *>ifv Who child, then she said, gently P * rW. k i l?™ Btrange freaka- Audrey, my n anvtht %g^t0 See ?ou int« »tt|rouSa^:e ha?Stt^ be hassock upon a chair and lift tho boy upon Rich allowed himself to be disposed of as aho thougnt best, but his wonder-wide eyes went roying all about tho elegant room, noting the gloaming silver, the glittorine glass and dainty viands upon tho richly spread tablo. J Audroy kindly attended to his wants at onca for tho hungry look in his groat oyos went to her heart. Ho was a ronmkably interesting child, in spito of his conrso clothing and neglected appearance, and Mias Waldemor found her sou watching him with increasing curiosity Ho had takon up his napkin upon seeing hor unfold hers, and with a sort of childish grace had imitatod hor in the disposal of it He handlod his knife and fork deftly, was cnreful to make no noise, and did not scatter his crumbs upon tho cloth. Ho ato, however, liko the famished little tollow that he was, and tears sprang to tho eyos of his lovely hostess as? sho Baw it, and realised how all her life her every want had boon supplied, whilo out in tho cold thoro had boon this little ono of God's poor, and many others besides, who had scarcely had bread enough to appease tho cravings of hungor. Suddenly Rich paused in tho act of con voying a delicate morsel of chicken to his eager lips, and, looking up into the sweet face beside him, ho said, earnestly : " I wish Madge had como, too." " You shall carry some to Madge when you go home, if you like," Audrey Paid, kindly. Then she asked :" Ig Madge your mother I" A puzzled look swept over the boy's face, then ho slowly shook his head. "No," ho said; "sho ia nobody but Madge." " Are you fond of her ? Do you love her V Audroy asked, desirous of ascertaining something of the relations existing between them. Again that puzzled look, and again ho shook his head, though a rich colour, as if from a feeling of guilt, camo. into his cheoks as ho did co. "No," he replied, "I couldn't lovo Madge." "Why not?" " 'Cause she's ugly, and 'cause she shakes and whips me." "Then why did you wish that Madge could havo some of this nice supper ?" " 'Cause Madge gets hungry, too, somo times, and -and it fools dreadful to be hun gry," ho answered, plaintively. " Well, Rich, you shall novor bo hungry again whilo you livo noar mo, and Madge shall not suffer cither." Tho child's eyos sparkled with pleasure at this assurance, while he put out his little hand and let it slip, with a caressing touch, down Miss Waldemar'sarm. This involuntary expression of gratitudo touched her doeply. " How sonsitivo he is to kindness," she thought. " I must know moro about him." But Rich suddenly grow very grave a'ter this, and ato his custard in a very thought ful mood. Suddenly ho glanced up and round tho room, his oyes lingoring with a wistful ga/.e upon tho beautiful things which surrounded him. " I wiah I could livo horo always," ho said at lust : " Madge's house isn't nice ono bit." What was it that made Audrey Waldo mar's heart give a sudden bound within hor and an unwonted colour leap into her cheeks ? Mrs Allen, who had boon quietly observ ing her all through tho meal, smiled to her self as sho saw it. Sho read hor thought as plainly as if it had been printed in largo type. When supper was over, Audrey took her little guest into the drawing-room to let him feast his oyes upon tbobeautifulthiugs thoro, and then sent for hor coachman. Sho told him rho wished him to tako tho child homo. " It U too dark," sho said, " forsuch a woo rnito to be out alono, and," sho added, in an undertone, "just take a iook, Robert, at tho woman with whom ho lives, and see what you think of her." "Oh, 1 know who she is. Miss Audrey," tho iimn returned, "and it's a shame that inch n tine little fellow should have to bo brought up in such v way. Ho has been hero a good deal lately. The cook has frequently fed him, though sho gots out of pationce to have him como so often, lio seems to love tho horses, and hangs around tho stables, potting and talking to them as if he thought they could understand every word ho says. I he woman ho belongs to is rather a respectable looking person, but she has an ugly eye, and, I'm told, treats tho child shamefully at times. They're evidontly very poor, and she sends him out begging when they can't get onough to eat other waya ; she takes in work from tho mill whsn she can get it." 11 Well, you can go home with him now, and tell the woman that I kept him to tea. Hero comes Martha with a basket of good things as a sort of peaco offering, so that she will not blamo the child," Audrey said, as tho girl uppoared with the pro visions which she had erdored to be put up for the woman. Then she went back to Rich, who had been quietly sitting on a baseock, gazing with rapt attention upon the lovely things all about him. " Rich," she said, " I ehall have to send you home now, for Madge will be anxious about you." He looked up at her, and his undor lip began to quiver. " Oh ! it ie so nico horo !" he said, with a long-drawn sigh. Audrey smiled into tho little upturned face. "Would you liko to como again to see me?" sho asked. "Mail I come again?" ho cried, with breathless delight. " Indeed you may ; you shall come and spond a whole day with me some time." "O-h 1" and his little choet hoaved with a half laugh, half sob, as if the prospect of a whole day of tuch delight as he had ex perienced during the last hour was almost more than he ciuld bear. Audrey was touched. Sho had not deemed it possiblo that so young a child could co appreciate a single act of kindness such as sue had ehown him " Como now, dear," sho eaid, giving him involuntarily tho affectionate term, " Kobert is waiting for you ; you have been c, vary nice boy ; and ta-morrow I shall £0 to see Madge, and ask her to allow you to como again." The child bounded toward her, caught ono of hor white hands in both of his, laid his flushed cheek upon it, then kissed it with his scarlet lips. _ Looking up into her faco, he said, in a 0"'g»oc1, kind lady ; I love you dearly." Then ho turned from her. walked quickly to Kobert, and slipping his hand confidingly into his, he signified his readiness to go Audrey followed them to the door and gazed after them until they disappeared in tho darkness. . " What a strange, beautiful child ! she murmured, thoughtfully. "I am unac countably interested in him ; I mußt soe what can b.- done for him."

CHAPTER 11.

TUX DAWN OF A BETTER LIFE.

TRUE to ber promise, Misß Waldemar went tho next day to see her little protege, and to ascertain, if possible, something regarding his history. Robert the coachman had given her some idea of what eho would find in that poor coWe, where Margaret Fox, for .hat was the woman's name, lived ;so Lhife she wag not unprepared for the evidence ot poverty vi-ible on every hand. It was a tiny house of only three rooms - two below, and one above. The floors were buro though clean. The window, were SurtitaloM, but every pane of (f'l«» w" polished until it shone like crystal Iheio were only two chairs, a small stow, and a table in tho room into which Audrey was ShTho'woman herself was psrhapa thirty year, of age. of good figure ami P<^ 8* °* a not unattractive heo if it had n«t been marred by an U K ly frown and a sullen, almost vindictive look, which scorned habi tual to it. She had dark eyes and hair, and

regular though somewhat coarse features while her manner was repulsive in the ex tremo.

*here was not the slightest resemblance between her ami Rich, who was delicately tormed, and possessed a peculiar beauty, while his manners were engaging, his every movement tho perfection of childish grace. He was not visible when Miss Waldemar paici her visit, which was very satisfactory to her, as she had come with the intention of asking Madge some very pertinent ques tions, which she preferred not to put in hie presence. " I am Miss Waldemar," she said by way of introduction, " and I have come to apolo gue for keeping the little "boy so late last °Vfi ni? S- I °°Pe you did not blame him.'1 No ; he's welcome to stay wherever he's treated well and can get enough to eat," answered the woman, curtly. The woman's tone, more than her words, betrayed how indifferent she was regarding the child, whilo it was evident that the more thought of feeding him was a burden to her. Audrey did not wonder that Rich had so promptly rospondod. " No, I couldn't love Madge," whon she had questioned him regarding hia affection for her; while her own heart was thrilled with a deeper tenderness for him as she recalled his last werds of the previous evening : "Good, kind lady, I lovo you dearly." "I became greatly interested in tho little fullow," sho pursued. '■ Ho appears to bo very bright and intelligent for one of his years." " Yos, he's bright onough," responded her companion, but without betraying tho slightest ploasuro at hearing him thus com plimented. " Have you ever sent him to school ?" "No." " Perhaps you think ho is too young ; but I should say it was about time for him to begin his education." Tho woman gave a short, harsh laugh at 1 this. "Education!" she repeated, scornfully, " Precious littlo education he will ever get, I'm thinking." "But surely you would like him to go to school and learn like other children ?" Audrey asked, gontly. "I've never thought much about it," was tho Indifferent reply. " Is the child a relative of yours ? He told me you were not his mother." Miss Waldomar was moro and more ro pelled by tho disagreeable creature. "No, ho's neither kith nor kin of mine. He's a young ono who fell to my care, and becauso I didn't dare to do anything else, I've fed and housed him," Margaret Fox replied, unfeelingly. " And have you no affection for the child?" Audrey asked, flushing with feeling. " He is a dear little fellow, and it is a pity that ho should not bo surrounded by love and kindness." Tho woman sneored. "My experience has taught mo that precious littlo of either of those elements exiat in this world," sho retorted bitterly. ''lam afraid you must have led a very hard lifo to tnako you foel like that," Audrey returned, very gontly, whilo the memory of hor own sad past made her voice quiver slightly. Hor companion's face softened a trifle at her tono, but sho made no reply to hor remark. " Would you bo willing to let mo do something for Rich ?" Miss Waldemar asked. " What do you want to do for him ?" was tho curt query. " I should liko to send him to a nico little privato school which is kopt by a good lady in the village. I will clothe him properly and provide him with books. I will also, if you liko, procuro somo employment for you, and thus help you to mako your lifo more coinforrablo and agreeable I wUh I had known before that you woro in need." A quocr change passed ovor tho face of Margarot Fox as Audrey said this. Sho grow suddonly crimson, her dark oyos blazed savagely for a moment, aud her lips twitched norvously. Then she bocaino cold and calm again, and, after a moment of awkward silence, responded: " I want nobody's holp ; Madgo Fox is able to tako caro of hersolf As for the boy, I'll think about your offer and let you know." " Thank you," Audroy said, courteously, adding: "I havo teen a great deal of trouble myself, and I lead a very lonely lifo It will givo mo employment and an object in lifo if you allow me to provide for Kick's education. By tho way, what is the rest of his name ?" " Richmond—Fox," was tho laconic ro sponso, with a somewhat defiant pause and glanco boforo pronouncing the last name. Audrey regarded her inquiringly. Sho did not boliove that his name was Fox at all; for had not the woman told hor that he was '• neither kith nor kin " of hers ? Sho began to boiiove that a strange romanco might bo locked up within tho few years of his lifo, aid she had a groat desire to loam moro about him. " But you told mo he was not a relative of yours," sho snid, " Won't you toll me something of tho little fellow's history ?" "No ; I will tell you nothing. If I accept your offer, you will have to be content to bestow your charity upon him as simple Richard Fox. If your aim is merely to do good and to surround an unfortunate child with tho influonce of your ' love ' and ' kind ness,' it need not matter to you what his name is, nor what his antecedents are." Audrey coloured and aroso to tako her lcavo. " Well," sho said, with a sigh, 1 cannot of course compel you to tell mo anything about him ; but indeod I havo become Btrangely interested in the boy, and I really desire to bofriend him ; and," sho added, with groat kindnose, " if you need anything for your self at any timo, I hopoyou will make it known fr) me. Good morning.' " Good-day," curtly ropliod Margaret Fox, as she followed her visitor to the door of hor povorty-strikon cottage, and stood there with a sullen scowl upon hor faco, and watched the heiross of half a million enter hor carriage and drive away. " Blue blood !" sho muttered, almost fiercely, as she turned and went back into the house. Sho threw hersolf into & chair, whoro Bhe remained Bitting in deep thought for a long time. "Iwondorif I daro do it?" sho said at last ; and hor faco was very palo, a wild look in hei oyes. "Why not? Sho is rich ; sho novor would feel it, and— it will end (hat business for ever!"

Tho next morning Audrey Waldemar was sitting upon a littlo verandah, which had been erected for summer use on the north side of her beautiful home.

Sho was very lovely in her dainty wrapper of spotless white, her goldon hair gathered into a simple knot at tho back of her finely Bhaped head, and with a faint tingo of pink on horemonth fair cheeks. Sho was reclining in a groat willow rockor, into which, around tho edge, a broad bluo satin ribbon had been wovon, and it seemed almost liko a fanciful frame inclosing a beautiful picture. Sho had boon reading, but jußt now hor book lay closed in hor lap, her hands idly folded upon it, whilo flho gazed absently toward tho green hills whofe heads soemed to almost touch tho bluo vault of heaven.

All at once, however, a plight sound attracted her attention, and turning toward it she fuind little Richmond Fox standing beside her.

He smiled, showing two rows of gleaming white teoth, as his eyes met hers, and an answering smile flitted over her sweet lip?. " Why, Rich ! how did you manage to get hero so quietly ?" she asked, holding out her hand to him. He glanced down upon her bare feet as if to toll hor how ; then he said simply:

" Madge sent me."

" Madge sent you, did she?" Audrey re peated, while ehe lifted his worn cap from his curly black head and cast it upon the floor, as if sbe could not boar to see him diß figured by so unsightly an object: for his face was as bright as the day itself, and his eyes were Bhining with delight at beholding her.

"Does Madge wi*h anything particu larly ?' eho added after a moment. "Photold me to give you this," and he produced a letter, which until then he had held behind him, and laid it upon Audrey's lap. " A letter !" sho said, somewhat sur prised. " Well, you may eit down there upon the step while I read it." Sho opened the missive and began to peruse it. She had not read more than two or three lines when sho gave a violont start, while her faco grew anxious and troubled. The letter was brief, but fairly worded and fairly writton

"Miss WAldemab," it began, "I send you tlioboy this morning-you may lnvo him and welcome nnd 'take cave' of him to your heart's content He is n thinir but a burden to me and when you read this. I shall have left the plnec and thbchilcl in yourlmnils.todo with him ns you may see lit. This much I will tell you of his history He is of honourable parentage, and of good blood - that lie shows ill his make up. His name is not' Fox;' the Richmond' belongs to him and you can cull him whatever else you like This is all that I sliall tell you, and you can make the most of it. Perhaps your heart is so large, and so full of the ' milk of human

kindness' that you may be prompted to adopt nitn^ and surround him with that ' love and oare' of which you discoursed so sweetly yester day, but of which, as a general principle, I know nothing, and have no faith in. Margaret Fox." " What a queer letter ! What a atrango creature I" murmured Audrey, after she had read it through twice. " Poor thing I" she added, with a sigh ; "her lot must have been hard indeed to have made her so faith less regarding human charity; but her heart must be adamant if she can thus thrust this lovely child upon an utter stranger without a regret, or a thought of anxiety regarding his future. I had not thought of anything like this. I wonder if I am capable of rearing him. Poor child! I believe I have not the heart to put aside the duty which has been so strangely assigned to me. I will do the best I can for the little waif." Her eyes rested tenderly upon the boy who was sitting bo quietly at her feet, look ing oft' upon thoso distant hills which co lately had held her own rapt gaze. " Rich I" she said, softly, and the child's black eyes were fixed upon hor lovely face with an almost adoring expression. "Come here, Rich," she added. Ho instantly aroeo and wont to hos sido. " Do you know what Madge wrote in her letter ?" " No I" a wondering look coming into his face. " Say ' no ma'am,' Rich." "No'm,1 he ropoated, obediently. "Did you expect to go back to hor again to-day?" "Yes." "Say'yop, mam. Always when I ask you a question, I wish you to Bay either 'yes, ma'am,' or 'no, ma'am.' " " Yes'in," ho answered "Rich, how would you like it ifMmlg. should givo you to me ?" Audrey asked, reading his face earnestly, "To bo ■your little boy always?" he cried eagerly. "Yes, for altvays." " Would sho ?—would sho do it?" he de manded, breathlessly. " Yos ; she says in this letter that I may have you," Audroy anßwered, moved almost to tears by the wistful longing in tho little tace upraisod to hor. " And you will nover, never let her have mo back again ?-1 may stay with you all the time?— live hen>l soo you overy day?" tho child's face waa quivering with excite mont, and his eyos rested upon her with a grateful expression that thrilled her through and through. Her hoart warmed moro and more toward him. Surely this was no ordinary child I "Good blood " thero was, without doubt, in him, as that strango creature, Margaret Fox, had written hor ; he betrayed it in ovory word and gesturo. " Yes, dear, you are to be my little boy," Audrey answered. " I will never give you back to Madge, and you are to Btay with me always, if you are good, until you grow to be a man and wish to go away from me. Madgo has gone away, she continued, "she will never come back to the cottage any more, Sho says your name is not Rich mond. Fox, but something else, which she will not toll me. So lam going to name you Richmond Waldomar, and you aro to call mo auntie, or Aunt Audrey, whichever you please. How will such an arrangement suit you ?" and Miss Waldemar held out her hand invitingly to hor small protege. The child stood a momont with downcast oyes and crimson cheeks, while ho dug his , littlo baro toos nervously into the floor of tho Yarandah The next inttant ho Foizod her delicate hand in both of his plump brown onos, and throw himsolf upon his kneos beside hor, burying his curly head among the folds of hor dross, whilo the hot toars rainod over his faco. Such wealth of happiness, coming to him all at once, was moro thnn his sonsitivo little heart could bear with composure " Dear littlo Rich," Audrey eaid, softly, a choking sonsation in her throat, " are you so glad to como to mo ? Poor child ! I fear that your lifo, short though it has been, has not known much of sunshine; but wo will see if we can not make it up to youi n tho future " Sho drew him gently to her, an increasing tenderness for him filling hor hearc—a sort of mother-love, as it woro, thrilling hor. With her own dainty porfumed handker chief she wiped the hot tears from hia face, talking in a fond low tone to him, pictur ing to him tho good times which sho meant to make for him ; tolling him nf the school whore ho was to learn to read ; of tho books bo was to study ; of the play hours ho was to have with bats and balls and marbles, and perhaps by and by, whon he got older, a pony, all his own, to ride upon all over tho country. She talked until his sobs gradually ceased, and ho had In a measure overcome his childish excitement, and began to listen to her with true boyish interest and oager noss, while his dark littlo face Hushed with gladness and gratitudo. All at onco a happy laugh burst from his red lipe, and lifting hor hand to them he kissed it lovingly. "I love you," ho cried "I lovo you dearly, and I will never, never do anything to make you Borry." Audrey bent and kissed his brow, whilo sho smiled at him fondly. Lovo was fast begetting lovo between this beautiful woman and this interesting boy who had beon so strangoly thrown upon hor tender mercies, a lovo which was to last unmarred throughout thoir livos and to lingor a frng rnnt raomory in tho heart of tho boy long after hU noble bonofactroes had gone to her eternal rest and reward.

CHAPTER 111. copid's conqukht,

la ordor to mako our story comploto, wo mußt turn our glanco backward and scan the history of a fow yoars previous to its opening. Audrey Waldemar was the youngosfc of five children. Four noblo boys had beon given to tho Hon. Dudley Waldemar, but one after another had drooped and died in early life, thus blighting the hopes of tho fond parents, and steeping their hearts in such sorrow as only those can know who havo watched in liko man ner the light fade out of the faces of idolised littlo ones, and then laid tho loved forms away from thoir sight for ovor.

Their home had been desolate indeed until thero had 'Come to them a fair, blue-eyed little daughter. Sho camo to them like ft sweet spirit from tho fjatea of Paradise, which inclo?od their othor treasures, and with hor advent there had revived something of hope and interest in the livosof those who had believed nothing remained for them but a season of weary waiting until they could lay down their grief-burdened hearts in tho grave and re join their loved ones in heaven. Audrey was an exquipito little piece of humanity from her earliest infancy. She was like a flower in beauty and ia fragrance too-the fragrance of a sweet and lovely spirit—whilo in intelligence and precocious wisdom sho was a marvel.

Every luxury and advantage which a full purso and a lavish hand could supply was showered upon her from the beginning, and her life was liko a beautiful poem from her cradle until tho opening years of her woman hood.

At seventeen, having completed a thorough course of study, and her health Buffering eoraowhat in consequence of per- Mstout application, Mr Waldemar's family physician prescribed change of sceno and a year of travel. To the fond parents, everything was of minor importance compared to the welfare of their beloved child, for their hearts were trembling with fear lest she, too, after all the°e years of watchful love, should slip from their grasp and vanish from their sight. But He who had spared her thus far had a high and holy mission for the noble spirit He had committed to their guardianship; but, before she could bo wholly fitted for it thero was to come refining sorrows to purify the gold of her nature. Mr Waldemar committed his fine estate to the caro of a faithful steward, closed his elagant residence, except that portion of it devoted to tho couple of servants who were to keep it in order, and then, with his wife and daughter, repaired to New York, whence, after two or three weeks spent in sightseeing, they were to depart .for the Pacific joast.

Mr Waldemar had many friends in the great metropolis. The earlier years of his life had been spent thero, and he had been a great favourite in fashionable society ; therefore, as Boon as it became known that he waa stopping for a season in the city, he was besioged with invitations and at tentions from various quarters. Ho could not well ignore them ; such a cordial reception —an ovation it might almost be called could not pass unoticed and for a month they wore kept whirling in the very vortex, as it wero, of tashionable life.

It was like a new world to Audrey.

Her life hitheito had been a vrry quiet one, almost an uneventful one but now a spoil of enchantment seemed

to bo thrown over everything, and she entered into all the pleasures and amuse ments spread out before her with an eager ness and delight which suddenly trans formed her from a pale and languid maiden into a brilliant belle.

She blossomed all at once into new beauty —9 beauty which caused her fond parents to marvel, and threw the gay world upon which she had flashed like a dazzling star into a flutter of excitement and admira tion.

Among their many invitations there was one requesting their attendance at a recep tion to be given by the Governor of the State, and tais was checked for accept ance.

Great care_ was bestowed upon Audrey's toilet for this occasion—far more care and thought than anyone would have doomed possible over a costume so wondrously simple.

It consisted of white lace made over cream-white silk. The lace was heavy with its own richness, though finely woven as a cobweb. The silken corsago was made low and the sloevos short, leaving only the filmy material of the overdress to protect, though it did not conceal, the pure, whito neck and rounded arms of tho beautiful girl, A fairy-like fringe of maiden-hair fern was laid around her shoulders whoro tho corsage of silk ended, thus enhancing tho dazzling whiteness of her skin ; while tho full skirt and long, graceful train were draped and fastened with the same deli cate green. Not an ornament gleamed anywhere about her; but hor fair, sweet face, with its high bred features, azure oyos, and ruby lips, needed no adornment ; while hor girlish figure, with its boautiful curves and symmetrical lines, seemed animated with tho poetry of emotion. Yet tho young gir ) w<is so unconscious of hor own lovelinoss and tho admiration sho oxcited that it only enhanced her charms. 11 Do tell mo who that vision of beauty is." Tho request was put to a middle aged gentleman by n young man of fine appoar anco, who was standing noar when Audrey, with her fathtir and mother, were presented to the governor and his wifo. Ho was dark and handsomo, possessing a frank, noblo face, dark hazel eyes, full of truth and honour, and a gentle, almost feminine, mouth, with its delicately curved lips, but having mach of strength and doci sion in it also. His gaze was fixed with wondering admi ration upon Audroy, as, with girlish grace, she bent a sweeping salute before her host and hostess, and bis companion smiled at tho deep earnestness of his words. " Are you, too, going crazy over the now beauty ?" ho asked, adding: " That is Miss' Waldemar, daughter of tho Honourable Dudloy Waldemar, formerly of this city." "Do you know thorn ?" was the oagor query. " Ygb, well. Dudley Waldemar 13 an old and highly estoemed friend of mine." ■' Will you introduce me?" " Yee, Arthur j but you must look out and not get your wings singed. All New York is raving over Miss Waldemar, and I see another enthusiast is about to bo added to tho list." 'NovOr mind," replied tho young man, with a note of impatienco in his tone. "I must know her — I must hoar her speak. If her voice corresponds with her appear ance, it must bo music indeed." " Tut, tut, boy j don't get sentimontal," laughed tho other. " 1 have always given you credit for being above such fol de-rol. But come on if you wish to bo introduced ; thoy are moving this way." Three minuto9 later Arthur Halstoad was bowing beforo Audrey Waldomar, a stranßO thrill running through his heart, an unwonted flush upon his cheeks, as hor innocent bluo eyos mot his and he clasped tho daintily gloved hand she frankly ex tended to him. Whut need to tell that tho " old swoot story" began over again, thon and there? that thoso frank hazel oyes made mischief in the heart of the bluo eyed lassio ?— mischief thut time could nover undo. Be foro they parted that night each soul instinctively knew that it had found its mate. The fortnight which followed was ono ntver to be forgotten. Every evening found Arthur Halstead by Audroy Waldemar's pido, whore, looking into hor eyos, listening to her voice, he forgot time, place, everything save that he was in her presence ; whilo to her he had become a king among men, a hero to honour and lovero. His face was like an in spiration to her—a face that haunted her evory thought—a face to dream sweet, girlish dreams over, to think of at dawn, to muse over at even Only two short woeks this went on, and tliin they both knew the full meaning of tint sweet old story—they loved. )'■ it no word as yet had beon spoken to confosa it; hoart had only spoken to heart —oj ato eye. But it was casually mentioned in Arthur Haletead's hearing ono day that Mr Waldemur and family would loavo Now York the following wook, and with a sudden shock at ths announcement he resolved that he would settle his fate before another day elapsed. 11 There is but ono thing for me to do," ho said to himsolf; "I must go to Mr Waldemar, state frankly my feelings, an^ ask his permission to address his daughter." And forthwith hor repaired to the hotel whoro that gentleman was a guest, and in his frank straightforward way rcquostod a privato interview. It was unhe3itatr»gly erantol. Mr Waldemar had been much ploased with the young man, and had been in no way disturbed by his marked attentions to his daughter. Ho knew that ho bolongod to an unexcep tionable family, his father being a woalthy gontloraanroßidinginanoighbouringcountry and also had boen at ono tima a United States Senator. Ho considered tho son a young man of briilant talonts and groat promise Ho knew that his child moat chooso some day ono with whom to spnnd her lifo, and wby, if her young heart had gone out to him, should it not be Arthur Halstoad ? In a manly fashion the young lover made known tho object of tho interview, and craved permission to win tho maiden whom ho loved. "My daughter is very young to enter into an engagemont,"Mr Waldemar replied, dobating within himself tho wisdom of allowing the lovers to assumo any bonds just at present. " I know it, sir," returned Arthur Hal stead. " I will not ask for that just yet; ouly grant mo your permission to win her love if I can. I—l am sanguine enough to beliore that sho does not regard me un favourably." Mr Waldemar smiled, for it needed no expert to tell that Audrey's heart had al ready been won ; and feeling that he could offer no reasonable objection to the lover's plea, he gave his hearty consent, and sent him rejoicing, yot trembling, to put his fate to the test. Fair Audrey Waldemar was too pure and true to practise coquetry; and wheu Arthur Halstead told her with passionate earnostness how he loved her, and begged her to give horsolf to him to brighten and beautify his life, Bhe simply and trustfully laid her two small hands in his, though her golden lashes dropped until they swopt her blushing cheeks, and fhe trembled with the groat joy that had just come to her. "Wo will brighten and beautify each other's live," she murmured, poftly ; "and you know that I love you, Arthur." It was almost as it she had said, with Browning :

•' Behold mo! lam worthy Of thy lovinß, for I !ovo thec."

And they both believed thoy held " the chief of all love's joys, in knowing that they loved each other."

Mr Waldemar smiled indulgently when informed of tho result of this interview, although the tours would start unbidden at the thought that his sweet daughter could never be wholly his any more, for she bad passed the point " whore tha brook and the river meet," and henceforth ho must be content to hold the second place in her affections. He would not consent to a formal engage ment just yet. •' Wait," ho said, " until Audrey is eighteen and you have attainel your majority ; which, you tell me, wM be in six months ; then, if you are both of the same mind, I will put no obstacle in your way." If they were of the same mind ! The blissful lovers exchanged glances of devotion at that, a? if to say that six months, six years, or fix hundred years even, wore all tho fame to them—there was nothing in the universe that could conspire to change their mind But I hey submitted to the probationary decree with a very good grace, happy in tho ni-caent, hopeful for tho future They wero not to meet undor pix month', but were to be allowed to write as often as they chosp, and when tha stated time had passed Arthur was to join the family, wherever they might be, and their engage ment could then bo formally announced. " Six months will seem like an age if 1 am to bo separated from you all that time,'

the young lover sighed, on the evening before the Waldemars were to depart. "It will soon pass," Audrey said, cheer fully, " only, I suppose, we must not mope over it, but improve the time as best we can; so let us be patient, for I know that papa thinks he ia acting, for the best in insisting upon this delay." So the young man was obliged to acquiesce, though his fond, impatient heart rebelled at this last decree of separation. Yot his admiration increased tenfold for the beautiful girl, who so honoured her j parents' wishes and submitted so sweetly to their will, even when he knew that the separation would be painful and irksome to her as to him. So they parted, fondly, trußtfully, hopefully.

(To be Continued,)

MAMZELLE EUGENIE.

A RUSSIAN LOVE STORY,

BY HENRY GREVILLE,

iuthor o( "Doeia." "Savell's Expiation,

"MarrjingOff a Daughter." "Tho Princess Ophorof." " Markof," " The Trials of Raiaaa," '■Sylvio's Betrothed." "Dournof," "Qabrielle,1 "Luoio Rodey," "Bonne-Marie," "Xenio's Inheritance," "A Friend." "Sonia." "Pretty IJttla Countess Ztna," "Guy's Marriage," ■' Tania's Peril," " Philoincne's MarriaKen,"&c.

CHAPTER IV,

MADEMOISELLE EUGENIE

Mamssof'h story was a great success ; and Madamo Berlaguine, in spite of her grave face, could not help joining in the gonyta' laugh. At the moment the hilarity was at its height, when tho gayety had spread and infected even the kitchen, a Medusa's head appeared in tho shape of a rustic droschki, hung very low, and very dusty, but still worthy of belonging to a landed proprietor. Thia dro?chki, drawn by two dusty horses, contained Pelagic Simeonof in person, at tired for the occasion in a nankoen dress, which was far from enhancing the proble matic brilliancy of hor complexion, "I could not resist," said sho, as she broko in upon the astonished circle. "I was all alone, my sisters had dispersed in various directions after dinner was over ; I thought how you must all be enjoying yourselves here, while I waa all alone, and so dull, and off I camo to join you." Her palo blue eyes cast a speaking glancs of submission and tenderness towards Maliasof, who received the dart without flinching. "You did well, my dear," quietly re plied Madame Pajarof, to whom rancor was a perfectly unknown feeling. Any one who displeased or offended hor was sure to recoivo a volley of truths more or less un pleasant, after which the good lady re covered hor equanimity, and generously condoned the offence. Thoy discussed which day should bo fixed for tho wedding of these lovers, whose fate had nearly disturbed the repose of this corner of the globe, and decided on the Sunday following. Madame Pajarof announced her intention of lending hor house to the happy couple for tho broakfast and wodding dance. "Thoy shall be married like thoir bettors," said blio ; " I will invite all tho neighbours round, and every ono shall danco " Mademoiselle Berlaguino gave a little instinctive gesture of delight, inßtantly reprosßod, but not bofore it was caught by Madamo Pajarof. "You will enjoy that, darling, won't you?" said she; "you are quite right. It ia a hundred timos bettor to danco at any othor wedding than your own." " All!" sighed Pelagic, "it is all very well for you to talk." Everyone began to laugh. "And yet," said Madamo Berlaguine, turning to tho lady of tho house, "I would not adviso you, Anna Karpovna, to dissuade young ladies from marrying ; wo mothers want to see our daughters settled bofore we die." " Oh, leave them to Bettle themselves," cried tho old lady. "What need can there be for you to thrust before their eyes a ready-made suitor, chosen in accordance with your taste instead of theirs ? Upon my word, whon I soo mothers chooaing a son-in-law, I am sometimes tempted to think that they may tako a fancy to him themselves. Young ladies who mako their own choice don't always manage so badly, do they, general ?" continued she, address ing her husband, who was still buried in the depths of his arm chair. Tho general exorted himself to rise, smiled, and came to kiss the white and wrinkled, but soft hand of his go id old wife. It was forty-two years since they had contrived to elopo together, to tho despair of thoir respective relatives who had arranged a far moro brilliant match on either side. "No one on earth," said he, in his deep asthmatic tones, " can boast of greater happiness than ours." Madame Pajarof cast a triumphant glance around. Madamo Berlaguine was not phased. As to the young girl, it was im possible to divine her thoughts ; her pretty face looked perfectly calm, and her eyea remained fixed on tho ground; only a rosier tint on hor cheeks botrayod that she had heard what was eaid. " To choose is not always so oasy !" mur mured Pelagie,—"lifeis so full of Bnares—l could never muster courago to make up my mind." " Well, neighbour," put in Madame Psjarof, "make haste, or else—" For tunately at this moment ices were served, which turned tho conversation into a less dangerous channel. Whon the party broke up, delighted with ono another, they decided to meet on the following Sunday, the day which waß to unite tho happy couple. On tho way back to her estate, which was some miles off, Madame Borlaguine did not neglect the opportunity of lecturing her daughter. " You are not grave enough," said she. " Did any one ever see a young girl sitting down to the piano without being asked, and taking upon hersolf to be witty whon thero waß not the slightest call? Wit is all very wall for married women, but young ladies ought to be especially on their guard agaiust it. Men "dislike women who make clever re marks." Mademoiselle Eugenio hung down her head and remained silent. " You are not bad looking," resumed the mother — she doted on her daughter's beauty, but studiously concealed it from her; '■ you are not stupid, you might make a good match ; but if you mean to achieve this you must be like the rest of the world." "Mamma," observed Mademoiselle Eugenic timidly, "if I am just like the rest of the world, what is to make a suitor show me any preference ?" What plagues children are ! If thoy are stupid their mothers abuse them, and if they are clever they don't know how to answer them. Ma'iame Berlaguino found herself constantly in the the latter position, and had long since decided it to be the best policy to turn a deaf oar to trouble some questions. "I approve of Monsieur Malissof," con tinued tlie mother ; " be is rich, and has a good petition. He would be a suitable match ; try to make yourßeif agreeable. I should be charmod to have him for a son-in-law. Do you understand me, my dear?" She never addressed ber daughter as "my dear," except on important oc casions.

"Yob, mamma, I understand," was Eugenie's answer. She added nothing as to her intentions of obeying.

CHAPTER V,

A RUSTIC WEDDING. The following Sunday, all the Pajarofs' intimate friends assembled at their house to celobrato tho wedding of tho illustrious pair of lovers. Their old neighbour Bour lakof, kept a prisoner by a rheumatic attack which deprived him of the use of both log?, sent them his band, composed, as he said, of six musicians and a half j the half consisting of a boy of about twelve, to whoeo lot ft fell to "play tho bells, the triangle and tambourine, an accumulation of functions which did not prevont him from acquitting him elf to the satisfaction of the company. This feudal band was ono more relic of the good old times. Now adays, Russia cannot boast of more than perhaps twenty such companies of musi cians, brought up and kopt in the household to minister to their master's amusement, whonover the fancy seizes him. This band, having been duly supplied with liquor, was installed in a balcony in tho gr^at haH, furnished with old seats upholstered in yellow velvet, The large barrel organ, whose cylinders were ancient and irregular in their action, was dethroned for the day, and its enormous handle, to turn which was exhausting work for a

: robust peasant, was permitted to rest on this occasion. Throughout the hall and garden and suites of apartments strolled visitors of all ages who had come to amuse themselves with the sight of this village wedding. In former times the nobility used to divert themselves by treating their vassels—just for the day—with the semblance of a more refined life, and the use of things which they generally touched only to offer to their masters ; they were served with the same meal which was placed on the noble's board. On this solitary occasion, too, wax candles burned on their account in the crystal chandeliers,flowers decked the vases, and easy chairs held out their arms to receive them.

Who can tell what thoughts passed through their minds, what ideas may have disturbed their narrow brains ? was it envy or gratitude that flushed their faces? In Western countries is would probably have been envy; but the Russian peasant is a good-hearted fellow: his simple nature inclines to gratitude ; for one that would rebel, a thousand would carry with them to the grave a hallowed remembrance of the day when their masters lent them the use of their house for their wedding feast.

The woodman and milkmaid were to be married at seven o'clock in the evening, just like people of quality ; Madame Pajarof was awaiting them on the balcony to offer the bread and salt on the traditional wooden trencher, and not being patience itself, thought the ceremony a very long one. " Will they never come," whispared she to Madame Berlaguine ; " what can the priest be finding to say to them?" Malissof, leaning over the balustrade, emiled at his old friend's impatience, and thought the de lay very agreeable. Seated on the last step at the bottom of the flight leading up to tho door, Eugenic, dressed in white, with pale pink ribbons, and resting her head on her hand, formed a subject for a vignette. She might have Bat for Reverie, Melancholy, or some similar symbolical figure, and the picture was evidently a pleasant one for Malissof to contemplate. Pelagie's droschki made its appearance at the further end of the avenue, and tha vola tile lady, dressed all in white like a school girl, alighted with a startling rustle of heavily starched petticoats. "She must be wearing a brown paper skirt underneath I" muttered Madame Pajarof, impatiently. " Well, is it all over ?" asked she aloud of her neighbour. "They are coming along tho garden on foot, and will be here in a moment. I de termined to stay to the end, to see them embrace each other in church. It is such a touching custom, this conjugal kiss, ex changed beneath the eyeofheaven." Pelagic wiped her eyes with a much-scented cambric handkerchief, and glanced furtively at Malissof. " What can be more touching ?" she resumed. " 1 can never be an unmoved spectator at a pretty wedding. A tender young creature vowing to give herself for life to him who is bound to protect and love her." Malissof's gaze rested on Eugenic, who was in truth young and delicate, and made to inspire love. "Here comes your tender creature," said Madame Pajarof, arming herself with the trencher. " Was there over a less poetic object ?" The wedding procession advancod across the lawn, headed by the bride and bride groom, the former of whom certainly failed by her appearance to justify Pelagie's emotion. Short and thick-set, with a reddish, sunburnt face, she wore a white muslin dress which made her look as dark as a mulatto. The traditional wreath upon her head looked like the jowel of gold in the swine's snout; her large red hands rendered conspicuous the butler's white cotton gloves, borrowed for the nonce ; but all this ugliness and vulgarity failed to dotract from the deep frank joy which ennobled tho bride's broad honost face. The bridegroom, who was as tall and straight as a poplar, gave her his hand with evident pride. " How well he looks 1 Ho is a fine fellow," sighed Pelagic, who took care never to lot a handsome man pass without a close scrutiny. "Every man has his mate," observed Madame Pajarof philosophically in French ; ' • you know the proverb, ' There was never a' —Fortunately, for Mademoiselle Pelagie's squeamish ears, her words were cut short by the arrival of tho happy couple. They were duly blessed, and then went inside, where the band was playing with might and main. Who ahull describe the bridal procession ? Who shall speak oE the monstrous com binations of lilac and blue, violet and chestnut brown, green and yellow ? Who shall describe the short waists up to the armpits, of dresses originully destined for a slight mistress, and afterwards altered to fit a stout servant; or the skirts lengthened by a band of Scotch plaid ? Who shall tell of the mantles of tho First Empire, and the petticoats of the Restoration, which, through tho caprice of an heiress ransacking her grandmother's wardrobe, had fallen to the lot of a washerwoman measuring four feet round ? The writer's pen shrinks from such a task, and loaves the reader to complete the picture for himself. Madame Pajarof scrutinised the proces sion through her eyeglass. "Don't they look tor all the world like a regiment of apos who had stolen their dresses out of a pawnbroker's?" she remarked in French. This reflection did her good, and she went indoors to join the newly-mnrried couple in the inevitable glass of champagne. The ball began, opened by Madame Pajarof, who danced with her husband, and then returned to her eeat. "I have not danced for twenty years at the least!" said she, sinking into her arm-chair with a gasp. " I shall never dance again except at your wedding, my pet," added she, turning to Eugenic, who was never far from her pro tecting skirts. "Try to let it come off Boon, or my old legs will refuse to carry me." Eugenic made no answer. She had a special gift of silence. "Como, Malissof," resumed the old lady, " stand up and dance! Do you imagine that Bourlakof sent me his band for nothing but this regiment of droesed-up orangoutangs ? Dance away! You can only be young once in your life, and I wish I were so still," added she with a sigh, half happy mid half sad. " Look, here is Pelagic coming in search of you ; take care, she is going to ask you to dance." Eugenic turned toward Malissof with a Hash of droll humour in her eyes; he caught her meaning, bowed, smiled, and plunged with the young girl into the whirling crowd of waltzers. "You held out your hand, mademoiselle," said he as he brought her back to her seat, "I should never have presumed other wise." ''Is not one bound to save a man from drowning ?" said Eugenic, raising eyes that sparkled with mischief. "She is certainly a very intelligent girl," thought Malissof. He paid her great attention for the rest of the evening, much to Madame Berlaguine's delight. " You are a good child," said she to Made moiselle Eugenic as their carriage rolled homewards. " You understood what I meant." Eugenic was silent as UHual; but if her mother could have foreseen toe batteries concealed beneath this fallacious silence, she would probably have whipped her daughter without the slightest regard to her eighteen years. As it was, she kissed her tenderly, and sent her off to bed.

CHAPTER VI.

FOOD FOBJIKDITATION,

Durino the month following, Maliesof called twice, thrice, five times at Madame Berlaguine's—then his visits came in as quick succession as the knaves in a pack of cards, so that hardly a day passed without the friends meeting, either at the house of Eugenie's mother or elsewhere.

Many mothers would have evinced their satisfaction at such unmistakable tokens of a growing attachment; but Madame Bcrlaguine was far too wise to act thus Far from showing any eagerness in her intercourse with Malissof, she appeared, on the contrary, to treat him with coolness, though at the same time she took care to keep from the houso all who. might have frightened away the suitor.

No young men were invited, only an occasional landowner, elderly, and fond of talking on agricultural subjects after dinner, ready to doze off in his arm-chair between dessert and tea, and apt to wake up suddenly, and ask wh,y they wero not playing a rubber. Jyot q single girl or young lady, bnfc as often as might be, the adorablo Pelagic, who had begun to lay regular siege to Mal'ssof, and, whoso maids spent their nights in inventing new head dresses for her, and their days in getting up her costumes. One day she arrived attired in pale pink, with a kind of tunic of embroidered not draped over it a la grecque —Madame Berlaguino always suspected this tunic (>f having bcien a window-curtain in its early days. The costume was enlivened with pink bows, and Pelagic herself bore co strong a resemblance to v faded rose that Mademoiselle . Eugenie's malicious, fore

finger could not refrain from executing the first bars of that well-kncwn air, " The Last Hose of Summer." This freak drew down such a look from her mother that she made her escape Maliseof, stifling his laughter, went to join her in the garden, where they walked together round a grove of ancient lime-trees, framed by one of those old hedges of yellow acacia only found in the gardens of the Russian gentry. Eugenic was very far from discouraging M.ilissof. With him she was by turns grave or gay, but always natural. He certainly knew more of the young girl's inmost heart than anyone else,—and yet it was not the kind of Intimacy he had hoped for. Sojie indescribable baiTier lay between him and perfect confidence; at the moment when ho felt ready to reveal all the complex tender sentiments struggling within him, a reserved look, silence, or a gesture warned him not to venture on delicate ground, Malissof had never had much to do with young girls, and his present embarrassment was the result of his previous life. From his eighteenth year upwards, he had never addressed a young girl, except to say to her: "You aro the very image of your mother," or " I knew your father well. We were great friends." Having onco made these com munications, he never troubled himself again about the young lady, beyond making her a respectful bow, accompanied by a paternal smile. Thus Eugenic was to him a living and charming mystery. One of our modern novel ists has said: "Who can contemplate without a shudder the abysß concealed by flowers, commonly known as a marriageable girl ?" Malissof saw the flowers, but was uncon scious of the abyss. On the day when Pelagio arrayed herself in the conspicuous pale pink dress which formed such an unfortunate contrast to a complexion resembling unbleached linen, Anton Petrovitch admired more than ever the creepers and woodbine which overhung the said precipice. Eugenic looked so simple and pretty in her delicately-tinted robe, her whole being breathed such an air of candor and innocence, that our hero felt disposed to eloquence. "Mademoiselle," said he, in a voice less steady than he could have wished, " are you happy here?" Eugenic raised her quiet eyes to his face, and replied without a shade of embarrass ment, " Certainly!" " Have you never dreamed of anything else !" resumed Malissof. The young girl did not reply instantly, and a deeper pink tinged her cheeks. " What do you mean ?" said she at length. Malissof shrank from questioning her more precisely, and tried circumlocution. "Do you like a country life? Would you not rather settle in a town ?" "lam not ambitious," replied Eugenic simply. " One can enjoy life anywhere if one has a happy home." Malissof's heart leaped. It was years since he had felt such a keen emotion. Yet he contrived to maintain an impassive face. "Then you would not be afraid to marry?" said he. Eugenic made no reply. "By marriage," he went on to say, "I mean a complete life, mutual confidence, a com munity of joys and sorrows, doubling the former and softening the latter; but," continued he, "perhaps this may not be a young girl's idea of marriage." " It is quite the idea I have formed of it," returned Eugenic, with downcast eyes. Ah! could Malisoof but have reodherhearu and seen the name of the man with whom she was dreaming of making the journey o?: life ! But, carried away by his own fancies, he acted like everyone else, and started or, a false scent. "Do you like mo a little?" resumed he, connecting this apparently irrelevant question in his own miud witli the preceding conversation. " Very muich," replied the young girl, blushing, but without hesitation. " And do you trust me ?" " Yes, I think you havo a good heart, and are to bo depended upon." "Thank you," obsorved Malissof with emotion, and taking her hand, he pressed it to his lips. \t that instant a tremendous rustle of starched petticoats was heard on the other side of the hedge, and Felagie burst in upon them. " Here we catch the diplomatist in the very act of confessing little girls !" cried this judicious person at the top of her shrill voice Madame Berlaguine, like a prudent mother, was following close on her heels, in all haste, but, possibly much to her regret, there wero no appearances to be saved. " Angels do not need to confess, Made moiselle Pelagic," said Malissof with some irritation ; "but if you will deign to accept my services as your spiritual director, wb will run over your besetting sins." " By which you mean to imply that / am no angel ?" returned Pelagic. "Be it so, I accept the ambassador's epigram, and challenge you to keep your word.' Was Madame Berlaguine startled by the very thought of Pelagie's besetting sins? At any rate, she led away her daughter, leaving the illassorted couple together. For some minutes they walked in silence round the thick wall of acacia, which was already beginni ig to change colour. Malissof. who had at first felt furious at finding himself interrupted when so fairly launched, ended by becoming reconciled to the interposition, a decisive step is so alarming that it were madness not to bless in secret, upon reflec tion, the hand of Providence for stopping you short on the edge of the abyss—and Ma lissof was still sane. "Ah 1" sighed Pelagic, "you cannot enter into affairs of the heart." "What?" rejoined Anton Petrovitch, slightly amazed. "No," resumed the lady, who was not readily abashed, " you men have hearts as dry as tinder." '• And as ready to take fire 1" returned Ma lissof, who was naturally promptiu repartee. The lady smiled with satisfaction ; sho en joyed this sortof encounter. " Such passions are but flashes in the pan," she said, " but I am speaking of real attachments, such as are experienced at the age when people un derstand their own feelings—" "At my age, for instance?" put in Ma lissof, with an air of perfect innocence. " Yes," murmured Pelagic. "It is not till the early springtide of life is over, and the first fire of the soul spent, that the true happiness of love can be experienced." " Tell me the story of your love affairs, Mademoiselle Pelagic!" said Malissof, yielding to the spirit of fun so natural to people whoaregiftedwithhumour.hutforoed by their calling to maintain an appearance of gravity. " My love-affaire !" exclaimed the lady, bridling. ''Why, how often do you sup pose me to have givon away my heart ?" " I know nothing about it, bat it might be a hundred times from the way in which you carry on !" thought Malissof to him self, but the reflection did not pass his lips. ''Let us talk about other people's love affairs," said he; " the subject will be more productive of appreciative remarks, and you are so witty, Mademoiselle Pelagic !" The middle-aged spinster, still half vexed, smiled at this compliment, but shook her head. " Men are all alike," Raid she, with a fplayful air, not wholly free from bitterness; ' they will not treat women as reasonable creatures, and they themselves—" Here she raised her hands to heaven, io protest against masculine follies. "I have never met but one man that was in earnest," she continued. " Was it myself ?" inquired Malissof, receiving a tap of her fan on his arm in reply. " JSo ; a charming young fellow, the Bon of a neighbouring landowner who sold hia estate last year to Madame Pajarof. He is quite a young man. as handsome as can ba," here Pelagie's mouth watered— " almond-shaped eyes, white teeth, a fair beard as soft as silk." Malissof felt inclined to ask bow she had acquired her knowledge vi the last detail, but rofrainod for fear of arresting the tid,e of her confidences. " Well," proceeded Pelagic without paufling for breath, "thie young man was in earnest! During the three years I knew him he never paid attention to either any girl or married woman. He was handsome and unimpressionable !" "Liko the savage Hippolytus." added Malksof. " But, Mademoiselle Pelagic, I do not find it easy to follow the thread of your ideas ; you said just now that men are incapable of earnestness in their at tachments, which I a^an willing to allow ; but do you think them in earnest siniply when they have no attachment }" Pelagic hi.daneppecialdieliUe to following out any argument: it waa a task boyond hei powers. ' He is charming, I tell you," repeated she, with the obstinacy of a mule planting1 itself against a wall. "As to any thing e'Ue, you may judge for yourself, for next week he is coming to stay with Madame Pajarof, who adores him." A servant came in pearch of them, thus putting an end to Pelagie's confidences. They wont into the house to tea, but she took care not to keep her news to herself; a piece of goasip is far too valuable not to Ua turned to the utmost advantage in, the country, and she gave it ou,t as aocw as she had eaten a cp,upl£ of ptf ees <$ bxe a( j an( j butter. " Nicholqs Mtt.rk.of is coming on Monday," B he proclaimed,, between, two gulps of tea,.

Madame Berlaguine set down the teapot she held in her hand. " Are you certain of that 1" said she in a sharper tone than was usual to her. " Your news is sometimea to be accepted with reservations, my dear." " Not this time, at any rate !" exclaimed Pelagic, stung to tho quick. "Madame Pojarof told me so this'morning; ho wrote to her yesterday." Eugenic was sipping her tea with an air of indifference ; her mother stole a glance at her, and opened her lips to put a question, but closed them again judiciously. " This young man appears to be quite a romantic hero," observed Malissof.

°- " I don't know what theso ladies can find in him," replied Madame Berlaguine, in the same rasping tone. "For my part, X sco nothing to admire. He is an ill-licked cub, an ambitious, gloomy man who never says a word to anyone." " Ah," said Pelagic, nearly choking her self in her eagerness to speak, " hero I find you blaming pooplo who don't talk about themselves ! Then why should you doepieo those who do?" Madame Berlaguine made a contemptuous gesture, and did not take up the challenge.

"You inspire me with the wish to malo the acquaintance of this ambitious man," said Malissof; " ambitious people are generally either perfect nonentities, or persons with some superior gifts of which they are conscious ; these are not really to be called ambitious, though the world confounds them in the same category." An argument as to ambition in the abstract was thus net on foot, into which both ladies eagerly plunged. Eugenic gave the speakoi such a look of grateful affection as almost to dazzle him,

Ihe look was that of a thoughtful woman, and it furnished him with ample food for meditation during tho next two days. He wished to see her again and have a long conversation, his idea of marry ing took more tangible form ; was not this young girl just the wife to suit him ? Fis relations might look for some one with a large fortune, and his friends for' some one oi higher rank; but Malissof thought to himself, not unreasonably, that a man chooses a wife to his own taste ; and now, when for the first time in his life be foil the want of a domestic hearth, would it not be foolish to let purely worldly con siderations stand in his way? Still he wished for advice, and as he knew of no more reliable judgment 'than Madame Fajarof's, whimsical as it might be in Bhapo, he decided on taking her into his confi dence.

(To be Continued,)

The Collector of Customs Who Got His Change.

The following incident was related to mo in Mexico by a gentleman who had known one of the parties concerned. It treats of the times when " General " Santa Anna, after a successful revolution, found himself at the head of affairs, and began to divide the snug places of the Government among his followers. One of theso was a certain cavalry officer who hod Served the general well, and, to reward his devotion, Santa Anna appointed him Collector of Customs at Mazatlan. Our friend was not only a brave soldier, but an honest man ; he went to till his new position with the firm intention of doing his duty by the Government which had appointed him. He had not been long at Mazatlan before three of tho leading merchants called upon him, and informed him that three ships would probably arrive at Mazatlan in three or four days. The new collector thanked tho merchants, and his visitors retired. Two days later one of them camo again, evidently perturbed. "My doar sir, are you aware that one of the ships is expected here to-morrow morning ?"

"So you gave me to understand when 1 lasthad the honour of receiving you. What of it?"

The merchant looked surprised, then all at once a light broke in upon him. "Do you mean to say," he said, "that you are not acquainted with the custom followed at Mazatlan on occasions like the jpaesent ?" " I must confess I am not, if it is any thing beyond the usual routine."

" Well then, my dear sir, let mo have the pleasure of instructing you. When a ship is signalled in the bay, it is expected that the Collector of Customs will pay a short visit to the country, lasting, say, a week or so. Our hospitable- friend, Sonor Mendez, places his hacienda at your service; his horses are at your disposal ; his son, a charming young man, will, il you wish it, accompany you thither and enliven your stay ; you will have a week's excellent sport. When you return hither t will have the honour, on behalf of my self and my brother merchants, of soliciti ing your acceptance of the modest sum of one thousand pesetas in token of our general esteem." The old soldier knit his browß. " And what will bo the result if I decline to accept your generous invitation ?"

' Senor, you Burprise me! You suroly are not going to raise objections, or give trouble, when all may be so well arranged ?" " Oblige me by answering my question." " Well, I must oonfess that we have con sidered that possibility, and in the event of your refusing to comply with our humble request, but only as an extreme, a most ex treme measure, to which I am sure you will be unwilling to compel us, and which our own good feeling, and the respect with which we regard you, will make ua most unwilling to adopt " " Pray proceed." "Well, we shall be compelled to use force."

" Use torce to me?"

" 1 regret to say so, but it will ba inevit able, if you persist in your refusal." The old soldier rose, twirling his mou etacho.

"Now, sir, that I understand you, I beg you to understand me. lam here to collect the customs, and I mean to fulfil my duty at all risks. There is my answer. What have you to say ?" "Nothing, savo that I greatly repret your decision, and beg most Humbly to take my leave of you." Next morning tbo merchants called again —tho vessel - was in the bay. Would tho collector listen to reason and accept an amicable arrangement? The old Roldier smiled grimly. "I gave my answer yesterday. When the vessel anchors 1 will go down to the quay-I will see that every box and bale and barrel i« conveyed into the Custom house, there to be valued and levied on ; and if you attempt to interfere with me in the execution of my duty, I will call upon the commandant of the fortress to support me with his men."

The merchants looked at one another and smiled, and the spokesman said : t(Ah, my dear Bir, how do you know that our worthy commandant is not equally interested with ourselves in your paying tho 'country a visit? Let us beg you to alter your decision."

" It is made, and nothing will alter it." Atasignalfromoneofthemerchants, fiveor six soldiers rnshed in and overpowered the unfortunate collector. lie was conveyed on board a ship, and carried to an island in the Pacific. There ho remained for two months, until a passing vessel enabled him to return to the mainland. He hastened to Santa Anna, and rotated the treatment he had been subjected to. The old bandit listened tranquilly.

"My good fellow," ho said, "you have brought it on your own shoulders. I gave you tho appointment that you might make a good thing of it. I have sent another man there, and I hear no complaints." The simple old soldier opened his eyes. " Wall, genoral, \ have had my lesson, Give me another place, and you will hear no complaints on the score of my honesty." Santa Anna throw down hie cigarette* '<Ko, sir, I havo nothing for you; you have had your chance. I have no employ ment for fools," said the old scoundrel us ho hobbled out of the room.—" Temple Bar."

The Bad and Worthless.

uro Bovor imitated or oounterfeiteJ. This is capcclally tpiio o£ n family modiomc, and it is positive proof that the rcmody imitated is of the highest vaiuov As soon as it hail been tested and proved by tho whole world that Hop Hitters was tho purest, best, and most valuablo family niedlcine on earth, many imitations sprung up. und began to Btcal tho notices in which the Press and the people of the country had expressed the merits of H. 8., and in every way trying to induce suffering invalids to use their stud instead, expecting to make money oil tho credit <nd goad >.amc of H. B. Many others started nostrums p U t up in similar stylo toll. R, will, "Ho°n"nr '« Luisei Ilamcs in wU<* the word won em dffiß? Y cro USC(I in ll Wto induce th'm 1V *• iH WaV° Of tllCI"- ToUC« "OIIC Of'

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1885

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