VELLA VERNELL: OR, AN AMAZING MARRIAGE.

Bir Mrs Sum.ek Hayden, , "Little Goldie," "The Midnight

CHAPTER LXI. A COUNCIL. ~ivmaiand talked until the night. ________ tilled the littlo room. WsccndlnK. Lonc.i'E-LOw. „ Tm - house is rented," repeated Miss utliy, "and Letitia is going to Paris," Once 'again wore gathered round the Costello'scosy hearth the group who hud w „ so merry a few short weeks ago. Miss Vornell seemed liko one of tho .^-indeed, a strauger would take hor 'be tho mother of the two pretty girls, dm tho fact that all woro tho some soft,

jeep mourning. ii Thon the property is not lo be sold?'' fl oestioned the captain. I q MiM Dorothy shook hor head. -tfo* nothing is to bo sold, i_roui ' i«nas's'various possessions-just in what ___, bulk of his monoy is invested, I don t low unless it bo that horrid Colondrinas Sck-Letitia is to draw an income yearly _are. or dividend, or interest—l'm Jteaed if I know. They've talked of all MVhat do you think of doing about your Aim Voyle?" tho captain asked that young gov, "Shall you put it in? [f you're ntagto, now is the time." iif know that, sir, but wo aro rather dilli tat of assorting moro than wo can support, taj Judge Oman thinks thero is one link nisi-g in our otherwiso strong chain." They all talked quite frcoly now about *j mammoth swindlo of the "lucky colonel," and woro vory much interested in its outcome. i'What is that ?' ".laflin's evidence." "Can't you possibly secure it.-" put in Oven, "I might cook my hare if I could catch it!" replied Voyle, laughing. "To save jj soul, I can't" get tale or tidings of the ____, We'll have to lot things rest for ifbile. I sometimes think that he nnd jliro Tracy have exterminated each othor Bruthlessly as tho famed Kilkenny cats, so difficult is it to discover trace of either of tea" Jfits Dorothy's placid brows knit injioa.ly. "Then you have not heard of Marc yet. "No. By tho way, I have a letter from Vella."

Sho eagerly extended her hand for it. legaveitto her. She broke the seal; thon recollecting her alf, turned to the others. "If you will excuso me?" she said. They assented. Sho oponed it. Then began a desperate Art at perusal. She could hardly read itrithout her glasses. And do you think Aa would put those on with that comical old Terry Costollo over thero watching her ? Hot she, if she had to swallow the sheot to itUt its contents. By dint of holding it quito noar, and thon it aim's length, by casually turning it to tie right ond carelessly regarding it at the Ut, by narrowing her blue eyes and rcso- Mdy compressing her lips, she mastered it it list.

IhOD, when tho others chattered on totrod hor, she sat silont and vory thought ill

For in the letiter Vella had told hor tether of the only time she had seen her brer since before he had started for Now Ink last summer.

A great longing came into Miss Dorothy's tag heart to see again "Will's little lighter," as sho had for many years ten ily called her. Pleasant as these kind Saids might make it for her in Philadel p, it wns not the same : sho was sure she -id not be so happy as here, with Voylo jlhcr. A scheme took swift shape in her iA, She would have her como home— ti thoro sho hesitated. Home ! Where nit? Well, never mind, they would is one —a dear, cozy little nest, all for a own threo solves. Yes, yes, that rid be the best of plane.'

i suddenly shs spoke out her thoughts Eitartlod those around.

"She must como back, Voyle. We can't towithout her any longer."

"Vella?" he exclaimed,

"Yes. Why not ? there is nothing now Sleep her in Philadelphia."

Ihe Costellos listened interestedly. "But, Aunt Dolly, dear!" he cried. "Yon forget—there's Clatlin ! Everyone Saalooked on Vella as his wife. Tho general hpression is that Clatlin and his bride are "liing a tour cf Europe." Captain Costello and his children were m aware of the strange circumstances nnmected with that most marvellous umage. Miss Dorothy was rather taken aback. . "That is so !" she said, slowly. And bere Captain CosteOo broke in dwery and decisive.

"1 don't see why that fact should exile Hiis Vella from Chicago," he doclared. "Sapposing she did come back, you would -doubtlessly live so quietly you would •wt bot few of your old acquaintances. "Win is, as we suppose, searching for iff. he would probably hear of her being in tlicago—she could hardly escape all eyes — ud would seek her out. If he were to do Mou'd have your hand on the very in- Wual you need to help you out in your •_ t for your monety. By treating him feteroualy, explaining to him the necessity «tthsdeception of the wedding, and soon, "-rare you could persuade him of the W_ of your assertion, and get him to back jotupin your suit besides. How's that » a plan? By Capulet, I'm beginning to ™ I ought to bo a detective, a—a fiploinat, a—anything remarkably bril-

And he.rubbed his big shining head and l*jjiied round on thorn complacently. Tney all laughed. "That you ought!" emphatically agreed JaDorothy. "It's a first-rate plan. Isn't Moyle? Isn't it; Owen ?" ujoyoun^men smiled and nodded. Not half a bad one !" said Owen. couldn't Vella come and stay with •1 aeked Kitty, eagerly. "Of course, ••Would not rob you of her altogethor, -»«- a while at least—till you decide on '-me,"

How thoughtless of us," avowed Bessie's *»Xt voice, hurriedly, and before Kitty g-ÜBWSred, "not to have asked Miss 7*-% nor plans. Tho house on Prairie J'ttne is already rented, and her sister-in «»leaves next week" Oh, I had my plans '." Miss Vernoll *™M brightly. "I am going to stay 2»tt old lady on Polk-street. She has a •Jfiry room to rent-" Aunt Dolly!" j^rgay confidence quite wilted at sound «WW_ indignant voice. „%dear!" You mean to go there to live—to that J*whed little cottage Oh. I know you're up to, Aunt Dolly, / know your Jecolourod guiltily. ____"?' v°yl ."sho began, but here her 2 W interrupted her, his disrespect Jjjwg absolution because of its earnest-

U feally fiddlesticks! I'll tell you how - _ , *"*a otncrs' "There's a certain £W of hers over on Polk-street-a »o»!-* yn _ who was once well off', but is '.-_ n **eec- circumstances. All her *W__ l-* 00i Part o£ -*•" \^>S himself, "Aunt Dolly has been etcT I ?r—doni' tmg herdollars, groceries, mi au° ff Bhe wants t0 ca P all with mS'it__** wants to go over there and '«s__. B'uffy little house, where the W fi-TTi. room' lo°ks out on an alley, %__- « Bake of Paying Mrs Mayne, ,a3 n ~eD ue- boai'd. I won't hear of £_ Uo% i 4»Tl___. y' bat in vain, had she en- C_-i 0i toPhim- NE_s**, Corrßc% road her thoughts, '""eddmit her ' waa evident in her con *Wd___ Bnaace8naace- They laughed merrily "Co y- W, «vere' Miß3 Dorothy!" urged *w*__ rfJu* s-tm hav«aneye tothe Y«__i ,»the mcc airy room." -.coTiffi Pleaded Bessie, with gentle i,^! hospitality. *$•«_• dears, IJ. %&3g*J*»wil. Dolly!" cried Cap *k°t __? pefsurbe<l little face flamed up S -»e __!__ U¥ _ aye -Bessie's own. _ftou__?♦ both her chubby hands «IjaidahYp. Stem tlie ingulfing tide of -W'w'ii 01-- I couldn't think of it! S*"*» _T ev,er B0 much for wanting _W» _-Uch- Bul I couldn't think _Wi, _. _?" -_ * Bhan'fc PO to Mrs _jMh, t _ -de-*eeoms to afflict \ oyle ™-Jttwwontm ont know what I will do j "6-u wait to decide till Volla

comes. Now, pleaso don't ask mo, my dears. But Ido thank you so heartily !" And as it was evident she was in earnest, thoy pressed hor no further.

" When does tho new tenant take posses sion on Prairio Avenuo?" Owen asked,

" Tho week after next."

" Woll, ono thing is certain -Vella is coming back !" said Bossio.

Aunt Dolly nodded

"I do so hoj-sol" softly. "I'll write to hor to-morrow," said Voyle,

For a fow minuto. there was silonco,

" Oh !" cried Bossic, suddenly. Thoy all turnod to hor in surprise. She clapped hor hands, thon blushed bowildor ingly as she encountered five pairs of curious eyes.

"I'vo an idea !

" Perish it!" suggested Owen. " I won't! I'll give you tho benolit of it, Mr Owen," camo tho saucy rejoinder. " \ ou know tho Cosmos Club want you to r_ro to Philadelphia next week to sco about that Rubens reported for salo thoro. You didn't caro much about going. We'll spare you if you promise to bring back Volla." " Done !" he ciiod.

And thon, whon tho captain and Kitty had said what a splondid plan it would bo, and Miss Vcrnc'l and Voylo had feared it might be too far inconvoniencing Owen, and Owen had shaken his head and declared it would bo an immense pleasure for him, the Vornolls roso to say good-night. As they all stood talking in the hall, something curious about Voyle's boyish faco attractod Miss Dorothy's attontion, as tho light from tho suspended lamp fell upon it.

Sho started, bent forward, put both hor hand? on his shoulders, her face closo to his, gazed at him a few minutes steadily and in silence.

Over his brow tided ;i red wave of cm barrassmont.

" Great—patience !" she ejaculated, and dropped her hands. Then, in a sepulchral whisper, " Voylo, is it a moustache'!" The Costollos burst out in peals of irre pressible laughter at her amazement and his discomfiture

"Yes, Aunt Dolly.''

And he, too, laughed

It really wat .' if ono looked intently one could sco it distinctly, a slim, fair lino of silken down.

"Pity the sorrows of a poor young mustacho !" ho cried, gaily, to cover his very natural confusion. "It is poor and aspiring, struggling but virtuous. Good night, captain I"

But once in the carriage und rolling south ward ho grew quite tragic.

" Aunt Dolly," ho vowed, " I'm acliiuy to shake you !"

" Me, my dear?"

" Yes, you, you innocent little sinnor !" " Why, what—'' Though right well did this shy small body know !

"Tho idea," ho fumed on, laughing in spite of himsolf, " of giving a fellow doud away liko that before his girl " " About what ? I never "

" About my mustache."

"Say it again," sho petitioned, meokly. "I'm afraid he didn't exactly understand."

" My moustache."

" Laddie," gravely, " aren't you giving to a hairy nothing a local habitation and a name." "Silence."

Thon from the dark opposite seat sounded an awful voice,

'- Wait—just wait, Miss Vernoll," camo a tremendous threat, "till somebody comes a-courting you .'"

CHAPTER LXII

_ COSTlt't-NCE. •• And I, iv a strange land far away, Was loving him always, night and day." A SON

On entering the library at home, Miss Dorothy started back in amazement.

Before the blazing prate-fire stood Mrs Vernell and her maid, both clad for a journey. On the tabio near them lay several satchels, also straps containing shay. Is.

" Oh, Dorothy, you've come at last!" cried the widow-, advancing toward her sister-in-law. " We're going to tako the I__!.,_7 train for Now Voik. Yes, T know the idea is sudden, but it' does seem as though I cannot remain hero any longer, Tho strain is too much for mo."

" Dear mc !" exclaimed Miss Dorothy, faintly.

" Such a fit of nervous prostration as took possession of me when you had gono out this afternoon !" Mrs Vernoll continued. "You can't imagine the feeling, Dorothy, your nerves are so strong !" Just as socn as I rocovored a little. I said to Hilaria : •We must get away from hero at once. Every room reminds mc of him—the loneli ness is unendurable.' So as rapidly as pos sible we packed, sent Roberts for our tickets, and have only been waiting to Bay good-bye to you l?' "It's so sudden .'" gasped Miss Dorothy. " And you too, Hilaria ! won't the house be desolate, though !" And then the carriage drove round, they all heard it. Fioberts came in and gathered up the straps and satchels. Adieus were said, and five minutes later Mrs Colonel Vernell was en route to Paris.

And loft alone, Miss Dorothy sighed, snuggled down in a big chair, and shook her small head ruefully as sho glancod around the room.

" All gone! every soul ot them. 'Friend after friend departs. Who hath not lost a friend ."'

as Mrs Homans says. And thoro wasn't a living thing about— not as much as a kitten, to agreo in tho sentiment or deny the authorship. Uneasily in the big chair she lidgoted. "If I had known Lotitia was going,'l would have made Voyle remain to-night. How large the room looks ! the gas doesn't half light it either. 1 never thought it was half so long bofore. I wonder if the ser vants are in bed. They may bo from all the evidence there is to the contrary. I'll ring the boll just to find out. What ex cuse can I have though ? Oh, yes, I'll ask If Lainont sent up that celery which came this morning." She touched tho kuob bosido the mantel. Roberts appeared. " Ask cook if Lamont sent up that celery." He vanished. " There's one beside me uu in tlio houso 1 she exclaimed with a sigh of relief. Soon Roberts returned. " She says it came this morning, miss." " Very well." And when ho had gope : "There's two beside rao up in the houso, thank goodness !" And sho quito brightened. Three minutes passed. "I wonder whether it's lonesomor Bitting up or going to bed !" sho ponderod with a sublime contempt for Lindley Murray. Savo the ticking of the clock not a sound was there, "Gracious, Dorothy Vernoll, can't you sit still ?" In sudden o.xasperation to her own black merino self, wriggling round liko a little fat eel. " I never knew you co nervous before. You want tweiaty-two drop 3of iron before meals for a, while. Ho-00-" '. what's that ?" with a repressed but blood-curdling shriek. And what do you suppose it was ? only a a few icy drops of rain dashing aguflnst the window.

She rose disgustedly. ' "I'm ashamed of you !" again address- j ing herself. "Go to bed, you foolish old dame I" sho went to stir tho lire. "I do wish though," a triflo wistfully, "I haa some of the Costellos to talk to—Kitty. Yes, I should love to have Kitty !" How the bright blaze did redden the old cheeks in the brief moine-nt in which she bent above it! " I thiuk I'll drink a glass of port neg us and go to bed !" she decided. And this sbe did. The very next day Owen Costello left for Philadelphia. Over Philidelphia, that fair, quaint, con servative old Quaker City, lay the ccld and mellow light of an afternoon in early December. Under foot the frozen snow crackled. Overhead waa a pearl-grey sky. All around tho air waa clear and crisp, and exhilarating as wine. Down the steps of John Gage's magnificent brown-stone resid ence camo two girlish figures, one tall and slender, with a certain queenhnesa in her auiet bearing, the othor a little less lofty ol stature, a shade less dignified of carriage. She was all in black, soft, dull, unostenta tious black, from the high-crowned felt hat sat well forward on the sun-bright curls to her slim, arched, Spanish boots. Her companion waa a picture, and a daintily charming one too - all golden brown seal skin and ruby velvet, which set off to perfection the pure pal or of her skin, the dusk of her hair, the lips as velvety and warm in hue as tho petals of a i_se gTndU BO Owen Costello thought, as cap ped, overcoatcd, fur gloved, he came "WW down tho square, the embodiment of r.oyal health and dashing spirits. "What delicious colouring! he odui mented, aa he neared them, all hie art st c i soul alert. And then,«' If that isn t 1 Hwb

Vernoll with hor! Mc must be Evolvn Gage!"

110 was luce to face with thorn now. Vella gave a little cry, "Mr Costollo!" For instantly had she recognised the handsomo, bronzed faco of her travelling companion. Ho lifted his hat with a bow and smilo. " Miss Vernoll! Collisions nro not as strong as fate, you soo, aud so we meet again." Vella turned to her friend. "Evolyn, you havo heard me Bpenk of the gentleman who, with his sisters, was so kind to mo tho evening I left Chicago. Lot mo introduce him now—Mr Costello, Mies Gage !"; Miss Gage bent graciously her protty, swan-like throat, Mr Costollo again dotted his cap and bowed low. " I have interrupted you, ladies !" ho said. "When may I call? I bring you, Miss Verticil, a message from your brother," "From Voylo ! Ah, ho has told mo how good you all aro to him, how generously you make him welcome at your pleasant home." " We aro always delighted to have him '" with a light laugh to turn aside hor words of grateful acknowledgment " Won't you como in, Mr Costello ':" asked Evelyn, turning toward the stops they had just descended. " Thanks, no ! I will not keep you from your walk. 1 shall call again." "Como with us thon !" interposed Vella cordially. "Wo were just going as far us Wannamakor's." "Thank you! I will." He turned with thorn, anil tho three walkod oastward. " Miss Gage is going to select a ball dross!" went on Vella, with a goycty sho was vory fnr from fooling—sho was novor naturally vory gay of lato, poor child ! " Do you wonder we aro oxcitod ovor our mission ? If your tasto is good, wo may al low you to express an opinion." " For such a reward I wish it wore !" "Now, toll mo something about Voylo— you know I haven't seen him for agos !" "Let mo seo'." ho dobated. "What shall I toll you ! Oh, yes, ho is raising a moustache.'1 ••Vogkl" "Voylo." " Gracious ! how funny ho must look !' Owen and Evolyn laughed at her astonish ment. " Ho wouldn't thank you for that speech, Miss Vernoll. Ho looks vory woll—at least ho will in n month or two." "To think ho is succeeding at last! Evelyn, you know how torribly his strong resomlbanco to mo usod to hritnto him bo cause of tbe attontion it drew upon us. But his moustache wouldn't como forth into an unfeeling world. Through sheer mis chief I kept my hair cut short, and so thoro seemed to remain no way in which to de stroy our striking likeness unless by stain ing tho skin, or something of that sort, and tolthat, of course, ho would not havo resort. What else wonderful, Mr Costollo?" " Well, only that I am commissioned by him ond your aunt to take you buck with me to Chicago." Sho almost stopped in hor brisk walk while a littlo exclamation of protest broke from Evelyn. " To take me .'" 1 1 Yes—even that. Don't quito annihilate me, Miss Gage I" Evolvn laughed and shook her hoad. "I proclaim mysolf a robol. 1 refuso to give up my prisoner. 1 can't go without Vella !" " But why do thoy want mo now '! the girl hersol' burst in broathlessly. " I can not go back to Prairio Avenuo— a stranger is mistress thore," Ho dissented quickly. " No. I heard tho vory day 1 was loav that Mrs Vornell had left tho provious night. Sho is on her way to Paris." " What ! So soon aftor uncle's death '!" " I understand the shock quite shattered her hoalth,-' ho answered. " A sojourn abroad was insisted upon by her doctor. Chicagoans sympathise deeply In her atllic tion. It was sad !to bo made a widow, having been but a wool, a wife !" " Indoed it was !" Evelyn said, softly. Sho was thinking of her own happiness, her own sweet unshared socret. If any thing should take Marc from her ! Oh, the bare thought was unendurable ! " And Aunt Dolly—where is sho !" " Still on Prairie" Avenuo. is wait ing to decide on her futuro residonee tili you return. Then she has rosy dreams, 1 believe, of a home-nest in which shall be just three blissful individuals." Tho girls laughed. "Dear Aunt Dolly !" said Vella, and her smile of recollection was very fond and tender.

" And then Owen told thorn of tho object of his visit to Philadelphia. Tho timo of his stay, ho said, was indefinite. It cer tainly would not be longer than a week. And then they found themsolves boforo the yawning Chestnut-street entrance to Wan namakcr's, and paused. "We shall see you at dinner this even ing, Mr Costollo ?" Evolyn asked, as they were about to separate. "Thunk you," ho answered. I shall bo happy to go." "At sevon then."

" Whero aro you staying ?" asked Vella. "At tho Continental. But how about that ball-dress ?"

Vella moditated gravely. "On second thoughts wo will havo none of you. Should you chanco to sco Kvolyn later bouitchingly arrayed in it, your former acquaintance with tho material would ruin the effect for you. Good after noon !" ...

" You aro heartless!" ho criod, laughing. " Good afternoon !"

And bowing, ho turned away, his last glance on Evolyn Cage's fair, proud face. Both girls dressed early that evening and came down to tho softly lighted drawing room, whero in the wido brass grate a royal firo glowed and sparkled. If Marc Tracy had grown loss loyal to the ownor of tho littlo tan riding-glove folded next his heart, and could have piorcod with his vision soace and .walls—as saith tho children's story-book did of old those favoured by tho mighty Genii—it would have beon rather hard to say which was tho fairer of the two fair womon.

Volla wore a dross of soft, sweeping, lustroloss black stuff fashioned with charm ing simplicity, and unadorned by a single ornament or bit of ribbon. According to a picturesque old-new fushlon, the sleeves were puffed from the shoulder almost to tho elbow, and from thore tapered tightly into tho delicate wrists. Through the pointed corsage, softened at the edges by rutlies of black crepe lisse, gleamed hor bosom, a triangle of snowy velvet. Above tho soft sable dress rose her round white throat, her exquisite brown-eyed, May-bloom face, from which the curls, longer than they used to be, were drawn back and knotted on the neck in a coil of crinky gold. Few women could dress as daringly and with such unfailingly harmonious effect as did Evelyn Gage. Much license in this line were hers because of her peculiar combina tion of milk-white skin, blue eyes, and raven hair. Just now she was all in silvery grey thick, unrustling Surah. At her bosom was a huge cluster of roses, yellow as gold. " Well, Vella, of what are you think-

For the girl was leaning against tho bnck of a chair, and staring dreamily into the lire, her thoughts evidently miles away. She started and laughed. " I can't toll you, dear. I will some other timo. I was scheming, and in my plots you wore the central figure." "I?"

And just then John Gage came in, pompous, gonial, and gentlemanly as usual, kissed Evelyn, shook hands with Vella, sat down before the fire, and stretched out his hands to the blaze with appreciation of the warmth. " Been a delightful day, hasn't it ? Any news, Evvie ?" " Not a word, papa —unless that a gentle man is coming to dinner this evening." He clroppedhia hands, swung: round. "You don't mean—" he began. Vella noticed with astonishment how a xed Hush dyed Evelyn's colourless cheek, and how hastily she replied : " No, no ; I don't mean him. A friend of Vella and Voyle's who called this after nmon, commissioned to take Vella back to Chicago. Just think of it, papa !" "Sh-" hehadcried. And then promptly in response to her suggestion, turning fire wards again as he spoke: "I wont, my e*6h, but 1 must go-indeed, I must!" decVired Vella. "They are alone now,_ and they want me— Voyle and Aunt Dolly. •__ "Do they, really?" John Gage queried, dryly, but with a great deal of sly mirth in his twinkling eyes. "And no one else : How sad! Out with it, my dear. What s bis name? I know it isn't either . oyle or Just then tho door oponed to admit Owen Costello, , , - , , -v. Remarkably well ho was looking, too, hi_ fcall, broad shouldered figure clad iv con^ ventional dinner-dress, his blondo head well carried, hia grey eyea earnest and shining.

Swiftly and blithely tho evening passed. Young for its years was tho heart of John Gnge, and over many a subject of mutual interest thoy warmed and brightened. Much in common had tho connoisseur and tho artist; many incidents of modern work and personal anecdotes of painters had Owen to toll: many reminisonces of Rome and tales of tho manner in which he secured his treasures had the host to relate.

And moro than once during his pleasant talk young Costelio told himself that not one woman in fifty could wear such a gown as that misty groy with the pale-gold roses and grace it as did Evolyn Gage. Thoro wore just tho shades ono sees so often abovo the ruddier glow at sunset. He would like to paint hor. As he bade good-night to Vella, he said, suddenly :

" The likeness between you and your brother is not now as striking ns it must have been. He is. very much stronger and stouter than you aro." Velhi's soueitivo faco crimsoned. She had grown miserably thin and wan of lato Well, sho knew it. But how could she look woll and happy when all lifo was changed for her, and God's very sunshino dimmed ? " I am glad ho is so well," sho answered And beyond tho simplo barrier of tho words friendly anxioty dare not press.

"By the way," ho laughed, "you ladies did not toll mo about tho success of your shopping. Dooply, I know, did you later regret your treatment of mo. TSow confess you missed my critical aid." " Indoed wo did not," assorted Vella, emphatically, " Fifty Mr (,'ostellos couldn't have choson a prettier dress," Owon lookod crest-fallen. " "I'was over thus—insult to injury," ho murmured. " Wo wore so fortunately disappointed, too," sho wont on, trying to talk lightly, and on any subject, to hido her real sadness of hourt. "We found Evelyn's dress maker so submerged in orders she could not promise to have the work done in timo for tho ball noxt weok. !So wo went on a 'ready made' expedition and socured a beauty straight— straight," in impressive repetition, "from Worth," Owon expressed astonishmont and elation in faco and gesture. -'No! Toll mo about it," ho urged, with solemnity so profound as lo arouso suspicion. "Don't!" cautioned Evelyn, (raL'ically. "Don't do it, Vella I Ho's laughing at us." "1 won't !" And tightly shut sho her rosebud of a mouth, only to open it in A moment to any: " Oh, you traitor !" Several days passed. At tho Gage mansion Owon Coslello was a frequent visitor. Every day, he told him self, ho was getting beyond his depth, and resolved to stay away : but ho invariably proved tho frailty of his purposo by going directly to (Inge's. And to-day was Vella _ last in Philadel phia. To-morrow Owon was to return to Chicago, and sho with him. A cheerless day it was—cold, brooding, steel-skycd—a day pressaging snow. As tho afternoon waned tho girls went up to Evelyn's own quaint, pretty room, and sat down for thoir last chat alone. " It is too bad,-' Evelyn said, "that tho Hazcltino's ball happens to be to-night." " Or too bad that I must go to-morrow— which ?" " Eithoi—both, ' declared her friend. " I liato to go, Vella—our last ovoning to gether for goodness knows how long! 1 would not, but that 1 know my absonco would oil'ond thorn. On an occasion, lately, I unintentionally slighted thorn, und I must go. if only to make amends for tho dis courtesy. Besides, they are very intimate old friends of papa's. But I would a thou sand times rather sit here and talk with you." "1 know it, dear,'' Vellti answered, softly. And thon silenco fell Npon them. A pretty picture they mado as thoy sat there batheil in the rosy tiroshino- Evolyn in hor favourite curiously-carved old chair ; Volla on a low stool at her feet, her bright head on her friend's knee. Dimmer and dimmer grew tho daylight, higher leaped tho flame, brighter grow tho room. " Evolyn," Vella said at last, and without turning her head, " shall I toll you now my thoughts of tho other evening. I would not then when you questioned mo. Shall I now ?" "Do, sweetheart!" cried Evolyn, guyly, " Well," with hor brown eyes still on tho rollicking blaze, "I was thinking thon I hut Owon would fall in love with you—and ho has!" Evelyn started. "Hush!" sho cried, softly, her clear voico trembling a littlo. " You must not say that—indeed you must not, doar .'" Volla laughed. " Of course 1 knew you would deny it— had probably not oven boon aware of the fact, you door, foolish old bat, you ! But he has ; and I don't >ec," with charming earnostnoss, " how he could have helped it." And again all was still in tho tiro-lit room. "Volla!" "Woll? " " Aron't you too warm so closo to tho liro?" That was tho last thing in the world sho had intondod to say, but at tho moment ol conlidoneo eourago and words had fiiilod her. " Oh, no ; 1 liko the bout. ' And for tivo minutes moro neither spoko. Sho wanted to tell Volla; she longod tor hor congratulations and loving wishes, but tho shyness of hor heart sealed hor lips. This was hor lust chance. Sho would soo her friond no moro in private. Tell it now, if at all, sho must. But how ? A thought caino to hor. Goully sho lifted tho guidon head ou her knee, rose, wont ovor to tho old, spindle-legged piano, opened it, sat down, and playod a lilting proludo Sho hogan to sing. Through tho dusky room hor voice floated, full, and true, and sweet, in that littlo old ballad of lovo and loyalty, " Maggie's Secret." Vella sat with her head bent a trillo for ward, hor hand clnspod around her knees, the warm light full on hor lovoly, listoning face.

" And 1 toll thcin they nocdn'l tome wooiuß to mc. l-'or my heart, my lioart is ovor the sea

Tho last bar sung, she came back to the hoorth, resumed hor seat, drow down again her friend's faco on her lap. "Now," shis askod, in a low voico, "do you understand?" Volla sat erect -turned swiftly. " Oh, Evolyn !" Evelyn bowed her happy face on her fiiond's fair hoad. . ,_ "Oh, my beautiful cußtle in Spam I cried Volla. "And poor Owon Costollo, too ! -all gone to kingdom come ! So no one need come wooing to you, Evelyn ? Not ovon a handsome artist?" I am so glad, Evelyn—so glad-so very glad, doar 1 I congratulate you with all my heart. I don't see how any man could know you and uot love you. And I hope you'll bo happy, darling. You will bo, it my loving prayers can mako you 30, as happy as the blessed day is long." And she put up hor arms about Evelyn a neck, drew tho proud, radiant face down to her own, kissod it over und over. "Thank you, Volla," and thero was an odd little break in the usually calm voice. "But who is tho conqueror, Evvie?" turning again her luminous eyes on the tire. "Is ho handsome ? Of course he is young. Equally of course you are all tho world to him, and you love him dearly."

"Dearly!" with a soft, joyous laugh: " you can have no idea how dearly, little one, till your own prince comes to you. So dearly, my love is beyond all utterance—l simply cannot speak of it at all." Yella nodded slowly. "I understand," sho whispered. "I don't know how I lived before he came," she went on, dreamily, in that strange moved tone so new to her. "If anything were to take him from me now, I should die!" Die ! Ah, easy indeed waa it to see that she with Grief had never held communion. They who so lightly speak of death, believe me, are far from that dreamless sleep. First they must learn how much " the heart can suffer and not break." But well, indeed, and truly, had the heart of the child at her feet learnt the sad lesson. «' Ah, you must not say that !'' she cried, "It is not right to say to Heaven 'I must!' and ' 1 will!' We do not know our own strength. By fire arc we proven," Evelyn laughed as she bent and kissed the smooth white forehead. My dear little moralist! But I uiould ,'" Suddenly grave again, and speaking with a passion that was almost reckless ness : "I could not live without bun. Some day, whon you love, yourself, you will re member and understand. Of course, you cannot now, sweetheart- you are such a baby yet." Vella smiled aud sighed. All that both meant, her friend could not ever ao faintly } dream,

" But you have not told me yet, Evelyn, whether he is handsome '!"

Sho laughed, and began tugging at a slender gold chain round her throat. " You shall judge for yourself. I havo been continually writing for his photograph. At last he had it taken for me. I only re ceived it yesterday. I cut it to fit my locket, and wore it within the hour." She drew from her bosom the trinket mentioned and opened it. " Isow," sho cried, gayly, " tell me if ever lived a handsomer lover or a nobler one than mine?"

Smilingly Volla took the locket, leaned with it toward the blaze. And redly flashed tho tireshino over the storn, dark beauty of Marc Tracy's face.

{To be Continued.)

Henry George's "Social Problems."

It has been hazarded that tho philosophy of Mr Henry George is less that of a creator than a destroyer, and that his socialistic ideas aro not formulated into proposals to regenerate tho state of socioty that ho stig matises as degenerate and moribund. Granted that such bo the caso, and that ho is but the voico of one crying in the wilder ness, the mere precursor of a social prophet who will solve somo of tho groat probloms, ho is doing good work in preparing men's minds for tho inevitable change that is coming, and rousing tho multitudes of ordinary politicians from tho fool's paradise in which they are slumbering. European statesmen seom to know no method of remedying the groat revolutionary move ment that ia vaguely known as Socialism, but which is simply tho effort of the intelli gent masses of the poor to participate in somo of tlio benefits of modern wealth and tho developments of nineteenth century civilisation. Stern repression and swift punishment aro tho solo inothods of meeting this desire, and its full development is mot in Franco by exilo, in Gormnny by a prison, and in Kussia by the drastic mode of a march to Siboria. Yet the movement continually gathers strength, and yearly becomes moro dangerous. Not all tho armed Praitoriana of Russia could prevent tho Into Czar from boing slain by the fury ol its dosporate agents, and not a dospot in Europe but slumbers uneasily at tho thought that ho duily risks the samo fate. In a remarkable papor on "Political Dan gers, " uppoaring in " Social Probloms," Mr. (Icorgo claims that it is in tho United States that this groat problem will have to be fought out, as tho American "boss" is but tho modorn counterpart of tho Imperators and Cii-sars of other times, with equal powor for corrupting and tamporing with tho lib erties of tho peoplo, and loss risk. "It seems as if this continent had beon reserved —shroudod for ages from the rest of tho world—as the field upon which European civilisation might freely bloom." But oui essayist bases his opinion that tho now re form will como from tho American Kopublic not co much from assumption that tho leg islatures are working moro vigorously to wards purity thoie than anything olsowhero, but from tho astounding fact that nowhere in tho world is the machinory of Govern ment so inordinately corrupt, and he points out that it is to the riso_ of tho enormous fortunes of tho railway kings and corpora tions that much of this corruption is due By their wealth and its consoquont power thoy havo takon from tho poople tho Govern mental control, "Democratic forms may be maintained, but thoro can bo as much lyiantiy and uiisgovernmcut undor demo cratic forms as any other ; in fact, thoy lend thomsolvos most readily to tyranny and mis government." Ho points out that tho American system of allowing oven tramps to vote is carrying tho principle of universal suffrage to a ridiculous ana dangerous ex treme. Ho furthur quotes instances whore paupers were carried from tho almshouses to tho polls. Wo havo had somewhat similar eases in Iho colony, whero orysipolas patients havo beon utilised for land absorption. Coming to Iho end ot his deductions, Mr Goorgo affirms that " popular government in the United States is clearly a failure." Tho peoplo continue to vote, but are losing their power, Bribery is chronic, and votes are sold openly. The " inaehino," that is, what wo wo know here as tho "party," is in many states paramount, and tho ordinary eiti'/oti has as littlo inlluoneo in the Govern ment under which ho livos as that of China. Then follows what wo know something of in Sydney, but which has happily passed for a time. "Tho typo of tho rising party loador is not the orator or statesman of an earlier day, but tho shrewd manager, who knows how to handlo tho ' workers,' how to obtain monoy and how to spond it, how to gather to himsolf followers and to secure their nllogianco." Sovereign states aro in the possession of certain rings, so powerful that nothing short of a revolution of tho peo plo can dispossess thorn. By tho work of somo of these a President, who was really elected, was finessed out of his oilico, und hisdefoated rival sat in his place. And, as a corollary to all thoso ovidonces of corruption and treachery tv the State, Mr George con cludes :—" We do not oven got cheap go vernment. We might keep a Royal family, houso thorn in palaces liko Versailles or Hans Souci, provide them with courts and "iiards, masters of robes and rangers of parks, lot thorn givo balls more costly than Mrs Vandcrbilt-, and build yachts liner than -lay Gould's, for much loss than is wasted and stolon undor our nominal govorn mont of tho people' This should bo un answer to tho claims of thoso theorists who advocate an Australian republic on tho grounds of public economy. Mr Ceorge's only comment on this record of political foulness savours somewhat of an anti-climax. In his opinion it can only bo remedied by tho American poople giving politics their earnest attention—which they always havo done, unless history holies them —to review thoir opinions, and to givo up old ideas and accept new ones. Uathor an impotent conclusion to the review of a century's popular government by tho most intelligent raco upon tho globe. -Exchango.

A Mislit Collin.

" Yks," ho answered, as ho seemed to huddlo himself up in a heap, " I'vo beon there. That is, I'vo jumpod from a rail road train running at a speed of forfy-oight miles an hour, and 1 can't say as i want to repeat tho rxporimont " " Where and when ?"

" About thirty nr'los cast of Chicago on the Michigan Central, three years ago." " What was tho occasion '.'"

" I was half drunk, and did it on a bet of Si. The bet was that 1 daren't walk out on the platform and take tho jump without picking out my ground. As it happened, the ground was pretty clear, but a million dollars wouldn't hire mo to try it again."

" How did you come out ?"

"Well, it's hard to describe tho sensation, A- I sprang from the stop I seemed to My. I sailed along in tho air until my wings grew tired, and then I dropped down to sco tho country. I'vo got a good pair of eyes, but I didn't soo much, f was too busy turning cartwheels, and handsprings, and somersaults. Sometimes I beat tbo pro fessionals all hollow, and again I made a mess of it. It was my intention to skip all the mud puddles and avoid all the stumps, but you can't always havo your way in this world. By-and-by J rested my case. That is, I brought up in a fence corner, and waited for a first-class hospital to come along. "

" Much hurt?"

"Might have been worse, Broko an arm. two ribs, and hud over a hundred cuts aud bruises, and it was seven weeks before 1 could walk a rod."

" But you won the £s ':" " Y-o-s ; but there is where 1 always grow sad. The stakeholder sent it back to me from tho first town in the shape of a pine coffin, and it didn't fit my length into seven inches. I had to sell the confounded thing for a misfit at half price '."— "The Detroit Free Press,"

Making One's Self Deal' at Will.

Some years ago, owing to illness and long residence in the tropics, I became morbid, sensitive to noises of every kind, and pro cured complete relief in the _ following way :—I placed some spermaceti ointment in the centre of a little square of thin, limp cotton, brought the corners together, tied them with thread, and inserted one of the little plugs well into each ear, and after a little kneading and gentle pressure found that I was absolutely deaf to all ordinary noises, such as the loud barking of dogs and the rumbling of heavy carriages in the streets. A couple of points must be care fully attended to. The ointment must not be too soft, the quantity about the size of a small pea, and the little bag must be some what larger than its contents, to allow the plug to °take the shape of the auditory canal. If the bag bo too small, or its con tents larger in size than a pea, it cannot be inserted into tho ear, and if applied only to the orifice it entirely fails iv its object. Tha littlo experiment is easily tried, and a daily experience of over twelvo months warrants me in saying that it will be found invaluable in the sick room,—From the - 'London Lancet,"

THE GOLDEN LOCK.

It was midnight by tho clock of Egyptian design that stood on the mantelpiece of my libra I had been to a dinner party at which there were several intellectual men and two or three lovely women, and had on my return thrown myself into the most lux urious chair in the room. Then I had lighted a cigar and had composed myself to think for half au-hour before going to bed. I had a good deal with which to oc cupy my thoughts. I was writing a book on an abstruse subject connected with the mind ; a patient in whom I was greatly in terested had not responded as decidedly as was desirable to the remedies I was giving him. and then—and truth compels me to say that this was pre-eminent—the young lady I had escorted to the dinner_ table would not get out of my mental vision, al though I honestly tried my best to banish her. Finally I gave up tho attempt, and allowed my imagination to run loose with all sorts of erratic ideas, of which she formed a promioent feature I began then to think that I was in love, and if so it was the first time that the faintest gleam of tho tender passion had ever shone in my heart. 1 was an old bachelor—so called—though under 50. Many assaults, so I havo beon told, had been mado on my celibacy by designing mammas working in the interests of their daughters, but I had gallantly held the citadel of my affections against them all, and had about reached tho conclusion that I should re main single all my life, Socioty seemed to havo arrived at the opinion that I was not a " marrying man," nnd hence when I went to receptions and dinners and balls, as I did very often, it fell to my lot usually to look after tho dowagers and othor wall-flowers. 1 was always willing to make mysell useful in this way, and thoroforo I was a welcome guest wherever I went. I was well to-do, as tho world looks at matters ; my practice was excellent; I held a professorship in a noted medical collogo, and I had written several works that had beon well received by tho profession. Besides, I hud a snug little fortuno that my father had loft me. But I was in lovo with my profession, and when a physician gets into that state in which ho linds something more in his studies than his "broad and butter," ho is not vory apt to be lod astray by tho blandishments of women, no matter how attractive they may bo for mankind in gonoral, or how as siduously they may make uso of their charms. Now, so far as I know, I was in lovo, and that, too, with a woman that I had never seen before that night, of whom I had no other knowledge than that derived from throo hours' conversation and observa tion, and of whose antecedents I was alto gether ignorant, except that, meeting her ia good society, I was bound to take it for granted that she was a lady. I had always prided myself on my knowledge of women, and if I know anything at all I knew that no one of tho sex reveals her true nature to a man during tho first throo hours of hor acquaintance with him. I was conscious, therefore, that I was making a fool of my self and acting in opposition to some of my most cherished principles in boing caught in this most ignominious manner. True, sho had mado no effort, so far as I could perceive, to capture mo. I had fallen into tho pit solely through my own weakness, and that mado it all tho worse, I was old onough te have known hotter. Well, many a wiser man than I had boon caught in fully as easy and idiotic v way by a pretty faco and engaging manners. If thero was any consolation in that knowledge, I had it in abundance.

I had not thought her particularly at tractive, as we talked together in tho draw ing-room boforo going into dinner. She had, it is truo, a beautiful faco and figure, but though I was an old fool, probably, I was not such a big ono as to bo caught by allurements of that kind. She had not talked much, and what she had Baid was of very littlo consequence. I was not quito sure that she was not weak-mindod, for thoro was a certain dogroo of abstraction in her manner that had prevented her reply ing at once to my remarks. She had ap peared to mo to bo in a kind of reverie, or rathor of montal inaction, from which she had to rouso herself boforo sho could gather her thoughts together so as to comprehend my speochos and framo suitable responses. Hor brain had struck mo as being one of thoso slow-working ones so often mot with in persons who, without boing absolute idiots, aro nevertheless not far removed from imbecility : in whom the cerebral colls aro novor ready for action, and in whom somo extraordinary excitation is necossary to start thorn going. Besides this, there was a look of surprise in her faco which was altogether incon gruous, for thero was nothing in her sur roundings at all calculated to de.olop wondor or astonishment. The remarks that, during tho ton minutes subsequent to my presentation and the signal from tho hostess that dinnor was ready, I had ad dressed to her, were of the most common place description, and yet eai'h time that I had spoken to her sho had raised her eyo brows in amazement, nnd thon, after a half minute or so of apparent mental vacuity, had staii-iinored out some simplo response, gonorallya "yos"ora "no,"oru few words not so decided in their meaning.

Still, to a certain extent, sho had fasei tiated mo from tho vory beginning, without at any timo exciting my admiration. Into this feeling there entorod a strong degree of professional intorest, There was some thing morbid about her ;of that 1 was sure, and I mado up my mind to study hor so far as I could consistently with the require ments of politoness. Cortainly sho was boautiful, but then, as I ha\o said, mora facial beauty did not go far with me. 1 was constantly on tho lookout for expres sion in tho faces of the mon and woinon that camo in my way, and hors was not of a kind that suited me. Ono feature sho had, however, that was magnificont, and that was a head of golden red hair, nowhore obsoivod in such porfoction nowadays as in Lombardy and Vonice. I could soo at a glanco that had sho lot it down it would havo roachod to her fcot; and as to tho colour, it was superb. I was apprehensive that 1 would pass a stupid two or three hours at the swell din ner that was about to como off, but my an ticipation w-ns agreeably disupointed, for a moro charming companion it had never boon my good fortune to moot than tho one that sat next to me at that tablo. No sooner had she oaten tlio half dozen oysters be fore her and drank tho glass of Chablis that was poured out for nor than an entire chango ensued in her mannor and mental characteristics. She became vivacious, quick to discern the drift of my remarks, roady at repartee, witty to a degree that 1 had never seen equalled in a woman, while her faco lighted up with an intelligence that astonished while it delighted me. I was enraptrued, overwhelmed, enthralled, sub jugated, everything in fact that expresses the complete supremacy that she hhd ac quired ovor mo, and that is indicative of tho dominance of love, As the dinner went on there was no diminution in her flow of : spirits or in the appositeness of every word she uttered; now she was beautiful; now there was expression in all the infinite var iety of which the human face is capable, and when I handed her into her carriage I felt sure that my happiness for tho com paratively few years of lite remaining to me depended on the fact of my being able to get her for my wife. Mary Plowman was her name. I sent my brougham away and walked home in the cold winter air, hoping to cool my head and calm the boating of my old heart. I did not succeed very well, and therefore when I threw mysolf into the big chair, aud stretch ing out my legs, puffed away at the strong est cigar 1 could find, my thoughts all wont to her. Thirty years I gave her. A mature woman, just about a suitable age to bo the wife of a middle-aged man like myself. From Tunkhannock she came, so she had told mo, and was stopping at the Windsor Hotel, where I was, by her permission, going to call on the following day. Whore ivaa Tunkhannock . I had never heard of the place before. I had an idea, howover, that it was somewhere in the oil region of Pennsylvania, but in this I was mistaken, I got my gazetter and hunted up the name— "A village in Wyoming county, Pa ; population, 953." I knew enough of geo graphy to know that Wyoming county was in the coal district. Doubtless she owned mines of coal and iron ; else why should she live in an insignificant village such as Tunkhannoi.-k certainly was ? There was something strange about her; something that interested me intensoly and at the same time frightened me. Why had the mental inertia disappeared as soon as she began to eat und drink ? Why had there been any mental inertia —- stupidity it really was—at all ? Why bad she been so preternaturally brilliant at the table? Which was her normal condition? Per haps, after all, sho had only been montally preoccupied, and a glass of wine had ex cited her brain to new thoughts. Clearly, hers was a case to study, and 1 resolved to study it, but 1 was none the less in love. So I went on thinking and smoking till I finished my cigar, and then getting up

1 laboriously from the comfortable chair, made ready to go upstairs to bed. I was just about turning out the argand burner over the table, when a loud ring at the door bell, sounding in the stillness of the night with tenfold its ordinary loudness, startled me for the moment almost out of my wits. All the servants had hours ago gone to bed, so I walked through the long passageway with no pleasant feelings towards the un seasonable intrudsr, and roady on slight provocation to treathim with short courtesy. I threw open the door, and there on the steps stood a woman. "I wish to see Dr. Waldron imme diately," she said in quick, sharp tones.

" I am Dr. Waldron." "If I am to talk with you I would like to come in."

" Very well, madam," getting out of the way as I spoke and thus allowing her to enter. " Come in, by all means. It is nearly one o'clock, but doctors mußt expect to have unseasonable visitors,"

"Of course If peoplo had their choice in the matter, they would probably prefer to get sick during the daytime. This visit, I assure you, is as disagreeable to mo as it is to you." I offered her a chair as Bhe entered the room, and whon sho had taken it, embraced the opportunity of looking at her.

Sho was 50 at least, and had tho appear auco of being a housekeepor or some other kind of uppor servant. Thero was nothing in her looks to excite interest. Her ex pression was ono of calmness and dignity. My prime object was to get rid of her as soon as possible. "Now, madam," I said with a slight accent of impatience in my voice, "I shall be obliged to you if you will toll me tho object of your visit." She made no answer in words, but plung ing her hand into the pocket of hor frock, produced a small package, which she laid on tho tablo.

" I have heard that you givo special at tention to diseasos of tho brain, and that you arc very successful in discovering their true character. I wish your sorvices for a patient who is under my immediate charge, and who is very doar to me. I am her governess, guardian, and nurso. lam so thoroughly acquainted with her symptoms that I can give them to you with absolute fidelity, so that it will not bo neceesary for you to soo her. Your—" " Stop, if you please," I exclaimed. "I novor under any circumstances givo an opinion of a patient that I have not thoroughly personally cxatninod. If you wish mo to break through this ruloyou may save yoursolf further trouble, for I shall not violate it now."

"lam prepared for that objection," sho answered with entire composure. "I am a Russian, and in my country there aro physi cians—and wonderful men they aro, too— thataro ablo to discern the natureof a malady from inspecting, not necessarily tho whole body, but a portion of it. I do not sup pose that tho American doctors are their inferiors, and I have been led to Buppose that you aro still more skilful. I cannot allow you at present to see my charge, but you can now, if you choose, inspect a por tion of her body; I have it bore in this package." "Great heaven!" I thought. "What a horrible woman !" I looked at tho small parcel that lay on tho table, It was large enough to contain an eye, a finger, the tongue, an ear. I was shocked beyond moasure, not only at the cold-blooded revela tions of the woman, but at tho awful ignor ance and superstition that they implied. That sho had in some way mutilated tho poor woman under her control I had no doubt. I turned my eyes toward her, and now I noticed the Tartar castof her features, Sho noticed my inspection.

"I am a Cossack," she said, proudly. "My father was a prince. You aro horri fied at what I have told you, but your emotion is entirely misplaced. See !" As she spoke tho last words she tore open the package she had brought with her and disclosed a long lock of golden-red hair. Sho drew it slowly between her fingers, as though admiring it, but seemed lost in some intense thought that the contempla tion suggested. 1 broke the silence.

" And you expect me to prescribe for a pationt by simply looking at a lock of her hair ? 1 am sorry to find that you are so ignorant and credulous as to believe that such a thing can be done." "Ignorant and credulous I may be," she answered with a sharp tono of contempt in her voico, "but 1 know that there are physicians in my country who could, by morely looking at these few strands, dis cover all the phasos of my darling's disease, its causes, its seat, and its cure. You are supposed to bo oulightoned; you havo microscopes and chemical tests, and God only knows what else, and yot when 1 give you a look of hair that grew not half an inch from the spot whoro my poor child suffers the most agonising pain, you can tell me nothing." " Givo me the hair," I said, as an idea flashed with the rapidity of a stroke of lightning through my mind. " Yes," she exclaimed, with eagerness. " Take it. 1 am sure you can find out some thing. You will save her from death, or," she added, " from what is worso—a lunatic asylum." I took the long silken tress in my hands. It was of exactly the samo colour as the hair I had so much admired two hours be fore on the hoad of Miss Mary Plowman. It was fully four feet in length. 1 was sure of its identity. " How did you get this?" 1 inquired. "I cut it off, of course."

" Why can I not sco the patient?" " Becauso her father and mother have called in two other physicians who aro now with her, and they would object to your seeing her. I made an excuse for being absent, and, taking a carriage, came here to consult you "

"Then, as she has medical attendance, I cannot interfere. May I ask the patient's name ?"

"You may ask what you please, but as you refuse to help me, I shall have nothing further to do with you. Givo me back the hair and let me go." She stretched out hor hand, and seizing tho lock, began to draw It through my fingers. As the last part of it escaped my grasp, I folt that the ends were rough. " Stop !" I exclaimed. " Let me look at this one moment."

I held it under the full glare of the argand burner, and picking up a hand lens that lay on the table, looked through it at the bunch of ends.

" You did not cut this hair," I said, se verely, "for it has been torn out by the roots, evory single strand of it." " Thon you can tell something, after all, from looking at a lock of hair from a woman's head. Ha, ha ! I thought you were wiser than you gave yourself credit for being. You see, I knew you better than you knew yourself. Shall I tell you something else ? Yes, I will. You recog nised the hair. It came from' the head of the woman you love. I saw it in your eyes. Well, she has just 279 strands less than when you last saw her. I pulled them out.as she stepped lightly from her carriage, and I counted every one of them as I came here—279. Neither one more nor one less. It was a horrid thing to do, wasn't it? What a piteous cry she gave." She bent forward as she uttered these last words and peered into my faco with a look of malicious cunning on h6r countenance that was as diabolical a one as I had ever seen.

I was almost overcome with horror. How my darling mußt have suffered as the wretched woman tore from her tendor skin the silken strands that lay before me. I looked at them again, almost expecting to see a portion of the scalp hanging to them. But 1 did not waste much time in reflection.

" You vile monster!" I exclaimed as I rose from my chair and pulled down the littlo lever of the district telegraph apparatus, and gave the signal for a police man. " You are probably insane, but lunatic or not, I'm going to have you taken care of for the night at least. Such tigresses as you ore not to be allowed to run at large to torture women as you by your own con fession have tortured Mi-- Plowman. *'

"A lunatic I" she shriekod, "and you've just found it out! A pretty doctor you are! Yes, I'm a lunatic, and that hair came from Sarah Shine's head. She's tbe chief nurse in ward C in the Woman's Lunatic Asylum on the island. I'm the crazy Cossack princess. Ha, ha! Miss Plowman ! She's the girl you're in love with. I've found out all your secrets, and now I'm ready to go back. I heard them talking about you as a great mad doctor, so I thought I'd get out and see for myself. And I've seen enough. I've taken your measure, and now I'll go back. You don't care so much about the hair now, do you ''. Well, neither do I, Keep it for good luck. Sarah won't be grudge it to you There's your policeman," as the door-bell rang. " Come along,-'

She led tbe way to the front door, and I, after making a short statement of tho fact; in my possession and my inferences from tbom, gave her in charge,

I did not sleep soundly that night, but I was still in lovo with Mary Plowman, and the long lock of golden-red hair still lay cv my library table.—W. A. Hammond, M.D., in " Now York Tribune,"

THE SOUDAN WAR.

Raids of Midnight Assassins Boing

" Scuppered,''

(FROM OUR -OSIION" CORRESI.. DENT.)

Lo_*do.*, April 11. The brief cablo message which averred that some audacious Arabs had penetrated within the camp at Suakim one night and stabbed a number of sleeping soldiers, gave—if the following ghastly story be correct—but a very shadowy and misleading representation of the true state of the case. Unless Mr Burleigh exaggerates, we have mainly the cowardice or clemency of our foes to thank that the Coldstream Guards were not butchered wholesale whilst snoring anil defenceless. , . "Scuppered,"writes the correspondent. " is a word which 1 never mot with till I came to Suakim, and its horrible significance is a new experience to British troops, io bo ' scuppered ' means here being hacked to pieces in your tent while asleep. How the Hadondowas do it nobody but they themselves can tell, but night after night they como into the middle of our camp, stab and hack a fow soldiers, and go out again scatheless. Sometimes they creep in five abreast past our sentries ; sometimes they come right up to our tents half-a-mue within the line of redoubts and pickets, ana bring camels and horses with them. But whatever tho audacity of their entrance, the impunity of their departure is the same. Our guards turn out, bugles sound the alarm, signals ilash, riiles are let oil, a gunboat fires overhead into black space but next morning there are only our own mutilated and dead in evidence of the assassins' presonce. The Hadondowas havo left none behind them, or had none to lea*, c. It is horriblo in the highest degree, this monotony of midnight murder, and depress ing beyond language to find our head quarters staff apparently so unteachable by exporience. . Tho front of our camp is considerably oyet three miles in stretch, while the relative positions of the tents have been arranged, apparently solely for the convenience of Os mon Digma's hyienas. The standing order for the immediate entrenchment of all lines was not enforced, and the time and manner for defending their regiments were left to the discretion of their respective colonels, tho result having proved so inadequate that if it were not for the hideous consequences it would be absurd. Our sleeping soldiers lie virtually at the mercy of the enemy, and in tho Hadondowas' inexplicablo forbearance the country has much to be very gratefulfor. They have refrained from slaughter with a self-denial that in such foes is positively heroic. The Coldstreams slept two nights with nothing between them and the stealthy, murderous spears of the Soudanese ; till the day before yesterday the headquarters staff went to bed without even an earthwork to protect them from the snake-like attack of the enemy. Yet the Hadendowas wero con tent with an odd soldier or two here or there. With the lives of the generals and their staff in their hands they sneaked instead into tho tent of the privates. To tbe Providence that protects tbe helpless, General Greaves, McNeill, and the rest owe their lives—to nothing else. Our sentries cannot see these savages. Once past our pickets, the re doubts cannot fire on them. On the sand their feet fall without a sound. The nights are of extraordinary darkness; moreover, they are experts in all the treacheries of warfare. Silent as shadows, they are terribly swift in massacre, and the ground they travel over is murderous beyond de scription. Ravines so deep that horsemen can pass unseen along them ambuscade our whole front, while streaks and patches of thick brush superfluously offer con tinuous lines of covert in every direction to a foe that needs no such helps to concealment. Crawling along on all fours, they traverse the spaco between them and their victims with all the patient caution of wild beasts stalking prey. They reach the doomed tent. For the sake of the sea-breeze the doorway is open, nnd the next instant the murderer is standing by the sleeping soldier's side. He feels a hand passing over his body and starts. A cry is rising to his lips. It is strangled in his throat by a groan of pain, and before the gallant fellow can oven warn his comrades the fierce spear is driven home through his body, the heavy two-handled sword has fallen across him. But the tent is alarmed. There is no timo to lose! Slashing this way and that, the murderers stab and hack with the fury of fiends, and then es tho camp starts to its feet in clamour they are off. Not a souud betrays their passing. Thero is no trace of blood to tell of retribution. They are gone —back into the villanous gullies, back into scattered brush; and next wo can imagino them sitting to refresh themselves outside our line of redoubts - to listen gleefully to the storm they had raised —the bugles telling the old tale of murder completed and the murderers gone, the aimless volleys of rifles, tho din of voices, the impotent utterances of our indignant guns rearing far an impossible vengeance. They hear the tempest of the camp's alarm swell up and dwindle away, and then quietly get up and pass on to where thoir friends are waitingto congratulate and to re joice— to rub thoir spear heads against the red tips of the assassins' weapons, to smear their swords with tho blood still wot on their blades. And in our camp ? Tho hospitial stretchers there are carrying away the mangled, mutilated bodies of our men, their comrades standing to their arms sa vage with useless rage, as they look at tho lantern-lit group of surgeons and wounded. It is a horrible episode, yet of nightly oc currence.

" Murder!" " Murder!"

I beard the word ring out last night from the Ordnance camp, and then came a cry— the bitter cry of a man suddenly overtaken by the agony of death. A shot, and then another and another. Then silence. I was only 400 yards away. The night had been so still that the water lapping on the quay was plainly audible where I lay. Presently came this brief uproar of alarm, subsiding as suddenly as it had arisen. Signals were flashing overhead. A party of Hadendowaa had either crept straight across the camp, or, passing along the rear, had traversed its complete length, crossing twice, on their way, the electric light thrown by the Dolp hin.: had reached, without being observed, the farthest batch of tents from their start ing-point, the nearest to the town. Behind them, only a hundred yards oil', was Quarantine Island, with its camp ; nearer still lay our shipping, with the gunboatß close in shore, commanding ono lino of thoir retreat, tho whole of tho British troops inter cepting tho other. Behind them was the sea ; on their left the town -. yet, such is the confidence inspired by nightly success and impunity, that the assassins did not hesitate to creep even into such a desperate position as this. And their work was desperate and complete. Of the wholo of tbe occupants of the tents—twenty-four in all—only two escaped their spears and swords, while the murderers retreated apparently unharmed. Aa they went back rifles were wildly emptied after them, and the Carysfort fired volleys into the dark. But there was no trace of blood. Inßido the tents the sight was dreadful —blood everywhere, and men lying about in all directions wounded and groan ing. Now, should such a tragedy as this have been possible ? The authorities, when I venture to say it should be possible, have but one reply—that absolute security from such accomplished assassins cannot be expected. Wo have had daily warning of the desperate courage and craft of these spearmen, and yet we have nightly shown that we will not learn by experience. If no other means can be devised ,the simplo process of making half a regiment stand to its arms, rifles un loaded, Insido the tent, to guard the other half for tho six dangerous hours of night (taking three hours alternately) would make massacre impossible and retribution certain. Or is not the example of the In dian contingent worth imitation ? They refused to lie in their tents and be stabbed and hacked about, so they have traced a ditch along their front, and when the Hadcudowas came up last night to assassinate them they found the whole line manned, and got well peppered for their pains, leaving, at any rate, one corpse iv acknowledgment of the reception they got. " Being scuppered " is suroly a very dis graceful experience for a British army. In Afghanistan the Ghazis soon found that " running a muck " did not pay. In Zulu land the laager was a complete and effective defence. But here, with an eiu my compared to whom Afghans and Zulus are civilised soldiers, and in a country that is as mur derous as the Khyber and infinitely moro dangerous than the donga river plains of Zululand, we have cur soldiers "scuppered" night after night. The feeling here is very bitter on the point, and naturally so. It is no question of being "rushed," but of being "sneaked." This is quite an exceptional form of danger, and should havo been met a week ago by exceptional precautions.

FLIES AND BUGS, -«-tlw..tn»ct. . whei, t_t_, hell, bugs. r_ts,|t_tco, Kophen, chipiojinlw, cleart- out by " Kough as ._... _«__u, KhbiUwim, .rciMJ * 0»., Aiwli, Antturi ',

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAY 30, 1885.

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