VELLA VERNELL; OR, AN AMAZING MARRIAGE.

Bt Jlbs Sumner Hayden, ■"•"Little Goldle," "The Midnight &s_<&' 'Oeraldine* etc" 0,:o•

CHAPTER LXVIIL ,'i ; i_ WIIL, DENNIS I" , _Htnde! Thou marble-hearted fiend! d ''_Kotis when thou Bhoweat in a oh u KtKiwnonßtor 1"-S1iakespeare. Mff year was two woeks old, and a ijfC. ldat that, when Mrs Vernell ■o and her maid reached Chicago. A jM ioowiey to both had boon their 'Pfajk, Ihe maid kept asking herself, flat "the held such an awful secret'

fa was to do with jit. It quito

iaai her; Never for a moment could .jjj it off. It was not Grimes who i mttidered tho colonel. That would

, (eeh a different matter. It was this t tormented lady for whom her patient ijlaiconoeived a kind of dog-like affec-

. ghe needed hef so much, leant on her aplefely. And what would it avail her, yfrtaesjhere or hereafter, to denounce ? And as for that mistress, who would ■iiwognieed her ? From the very day of Mineral, when, after Hilaria had adjusted l(t ji and she, looking in the mirror to Infect,'had imagined that thore sho m peering over her shoulder the face of .murdered husband, she had been JjJ by phantoms. These visions of an qjjjfe conscience had culminated in 0 >the night' at tho gaming-tablo (Grimes, with diabolic cruelty, had «1 her an1 appalling trick. It sent her

ffl/Bfeggering to tho very confines of __& Sipce then remorse, absinthe, dliillnsioned love had been steadily ijtieir fatal work.

KtrOnld have no more personal adorn- Deprived of its customary daily to of White Rbso Pallor-and Jacquo uJQldwy Ber face was yellow, wrinkled, jjjsrd hs that of a woman of seventy. j. that the Raven's Wing was no longer Mtil her tresses, ono saw how thickly aired the whitening hairs, Her figure Jpown shrunken and bowed. The eyes t seemed like those of Mrs Cbaru. i»mri bright, keen, afire, 'ft what hotel shall we go, madam ?" aia asked, as the train steamed into

Rfotel'! We shall not go to any, We kdrive home."

'tSerp,'madam?" "ToPrairio Avenue, of course !" 'But madam forgets tho houso is rented id rtnted ready-furnished to an old fthanj. .

'ITidata^ forgets nothing!" came the (tefly. '■".But madam will be obeyed." igainat her, in this mood, Hilaria know nstistiless to argue; so when they were ltd in a hack she gave tho driver the old

Sat ss -jfchey neared their destination, (ring straight south on Michigan Avenue, idreeded what now vagary would possess [when there arrived.

ptieglected look the Vernell mansion b fht_ they stopped■ before it. Most of iMjnda.wero down-. The steps and path is cbverpd with untrodden snow. Hilaria I ihe driver and dismissed him.

I^two Women approached the houso. ifornell took from her bosom a bunch .eye md unlocked tbe outer door. lidarbv" Her maid protested, "the Kant will think this strange !" 'IB^t is so. I—l had forgotten," sho i Vacantly.l ed she dropped her hand. Do not go in at all, madam !"her atten- Itfent on, soothingly, "It will rovivo tal memories." b^tarted, and looked at her maid with tt of questioning terror. How much ihe know ? There are no memories I fear!" spoak haughtily, shrilly. "Ring!" <: c did as bidden. j answer. Ring again!" jam.the bell olamorei through the great Ir'-V 7'••■',-, -~■■■ > I)^3 sound.. , -. . tun and yet again, but with the same t stall go in !" said Mrs Vernell, de (fly. ,- ■ : ■<■ •■•' faywerestandinginthevestibule. Sne Ipanotheß key to the inner door. It iedln.tfle lock.: The door swung back, meywentin. '~ . fcily furnished as of old, the hall looked •k, Bmelt damp. ■ uSiflg cautiously, dreading they knew .ijjjtj they Went through the long draw fgsJDj It was in tho most eXtraor-' ny, confusion, disorder. If a band of _hg soldiery had raided it, it could iwrnore, topsy-tnrvy. Irery cabinet in the room was ransacked fj&: contents strewn over the floor. sral of the i beautiful. painted panels 'A adorned the walls were hewn out of <m though with hatchet or axe. 'What, can it mean ?" they;whispered. Ijough eveuy room in the house went t. , Everywhere the same spectacle of Miiim met their eyes. 'ft ;must be; the work of burglars!" iaia whispered, and her mistress nodded

oi ■._ ■■.-:'•' .'--/ r W nowhere was there sign of life, of any Mttbeing,. .- Uj once did Mrs Vernell show evidence ffiojaßPy. of wavering. That was when <J entered the'colonel's smoking den on iwcond floor. ;■ '■ «SS she staggered, and grew so ghastly tmaid involuntarily sprang to her aid. ft? ifith.a violent effort she recovered

■Jf .n I require you, I shall tell you I" 9»9te. •_ •;.- ' ff .though: relentless conscience had W;h«- back to the scene of her crimo; tatiofterror. of detection thrilled and jTOi)erj'bi.ain and body. - .'" m.;I" cried Hilaria, suddenly, m botbfstoodfstill to listen. Ai6 it is again !" she cried. Wioit Janu try day was Waning. Tho "-yellowish light stealing between the !JMi! showed each the face of tho other, |j_h a nameless terror.-1 !«.ahuman voice I" .aipWffl |'J breathedHilaria. aasmore they heard it faintly. Bap!" "ft came from tho closet thore!" mur ".Hilaria. , . M »iid see!" said hor mistress. «™eshrank back..

fait was repeated, and this timomore ff.fl. ho could resist such a piteous praid?

TO went boldly forward arid flung Mm door. Such a Bight as was that if get her eyes. "JM^flppr, his limbs drawn up in an J™«:oi pain, lay an old' man attired in a SlPwnj and wearing a grey wig. S'l. frightfully pale, and his clothes ftw&ed with blood. slPy Mrs Vernoll recognised him. Jf* .the tenant to whom the house had J1? Mr Helm!" she cried. SjW6ll* off hke a flash and back in a S'W. hh cup of wine—the dregs of a Hgj "She lifted the old man's head s'™ swallow it. • mm lifted, bodily, his attenuated Mi i Btron 8 arms an<* bore *"m into m """groom, and laid himon the bed. J™ swift skilful: fingefs as those of. a 2j°Wl nurse,, she cut his clothes, dis «P wound,(bound it up. Then JTgoii'a fresh search for food and

i?j? «ji6 obtained. When she returned Mni him in a dead faint, and Mrs !*"* wringing" her hands in helpkss

S^hourafter, when care and nourish (S^mewhat revived him, he spoke. SBSsW. ci course, and brokenly, but iffis*! elm to his "P8 Hilaria repeated jMonnectediy as she imagined he wished |^*PreliMid, and he eagerly nodded IK servant tried; to kill you for the K'«*kMy. You have gold. He Kb? Hv™6rfiloset to die," sho said, &!'.isthatit?" »atKWhead/' .' ~kn°w—lCan't remember I" he K^is for. a doctor—go for ono

He clutched her arm with a look of dis sent and dismay. " Then I am not to go ?" Ho shook his head and smiled. " Thoro is some ono coming toward the houso, 'said Mrs Vernell from tho window whore sho stood.

" Who ?". he gasped. Sho turned in careless surprise. "I do not know. A coloured man. " A great tremor shook from head to feet tho figure on the bed. Drops of sweat stood out on his forehead. With extreme agita tion he motioned to Hilaria.

Again sho bent abovo him,

"He— lt was he—but did not—get money. Had changod-not thoro. Will look more," "You mean he did not discover your money bocauso you had changed tho place of its concealment, and that he has come to look for it.

He nodded, his evident excitement grow ing more intense,

Whatever freak took sudden possession of Mrs Vernell at the words, Heaven only knows, for assuredly the two others with her did not.

Tho door of the wardrobe near which she stood was ajar, disclosing the clothing within.

" Now," she cried, " for a good scare I" She dashed in, and in a moment ro-op peared, a Japanese dressing-gown of old Holm's enveloping her from head to feet. She hurried across to tho bed, snatched off his wig, fastened it on her own head. Was sho already indeed past tho boundary of tho dark'country ?

"Madam!" remonstrated Hilaria in affright.

But tho old man understood. Into his eyes came somothing which was like a gleam oi amusement.

She drow from hor bosom a small revolver sho always carried of lato. They could hear tho cracking of the door below as it swung open. .Mrs Vornell went into the corridor, down r. few step 3of tho stairs. Nervous lest tho outcomo should bo another tragedy, Hilaria quickly followed hor mistress.

Tho new-comer, a gigantic negro, camo in with furtive tread, The figure on the stairs attracted his eyo.

With a yell of dismay ho leaped back,

"Master! Mastor!" In this waning light deception was easy Tho gay dressing-gown, tho silvery wig. "For what have you returned?" In n low, deep voice, and levelling the revolver, " The truth, you black fiend !"

"For money." And there breath and pluck desertod him, and he crouched back against tho door in a paroxysm of terror. Fearful of betraying herself, Mrs Vernell bade him be gone. And when ho had pkulked out and away like a lashed cur, she called to Hilaria to go down and secure the door. Sho flung aside the revolver, sat down on'the topmost step, just where Miss Dorothy had sat tho night Jonas Claflin had returned to seek his brido, and burst into a peal of shrill, unearthly laughter. In that houso, occupying the same room, sho and Hilaria that night remained, The next day Mr Helm was on a fair road to recovery, but at his urgent request they still stayed. Hilaria restored the houso to something like order, and pre pared the meals. Three days longer they remained, Then Mrs Vernell said they would go to the hotel. Whatever had impelled her to como here in tho first place it would be hard to determine. But, then, she never of late had very good reasons for her caprices.

As yet her planß as to restitution were very vague. Since returning she had imagined no relentless spectres, and per haps for that cause her resolutions slightly paled. Besides, how would the former be possible without in some way arousing sus picion and implicating herself ?

The day of their departure dawned bright, blue-skyed, and sunshiny. At Mr Helm's request Hilaria had telegraphed to a cousin of nis, and had received a reply that she would come on and take charge.

Just now the old man sat propped up in a big arm-chair_, in the upper sitting-room of tragic memories. Near him stood Hilaria, who had just taken away his luuoh-tray and made him comfortable.

Obeying an irresistiblo impulse, she spoke Out, abruptly. . . " What induced you to rent such a large house when there were only two to occupy it ?" she asked.

He laughed drearily, and with a shade of embarrassment.

"We all have fancies, and this is one of mine."

| Unconceived but silent, she sat down opposite him. In a quiot way they had come to.be.good friends of late, these two. She pitied him, and he was grateful for her attention. He,supposed her much older than she really was because of her disguise. Suddenly he lifted his white-headed, white bearded old face. . ,

"If you would really caro to hear it, I will tell you my story," he said. "I would indeed," she answered, i And then he told her, relating his life prosily, garrulously, as an old ago narrates incidents the most trivial.

One episodo in particular struck her, so pathetic was it, so illustrative of cold blooded, youthful cruelty., ; " About twelve years ago! found myself setting out for the second time to make my fortune. To save my little, hoard my son and I determined to journey as far west as we might on foot. One night, while sleep ing in the open air, rain began to fall. I was drenched. In tho mowing I awoke in a raging fever. And what do you suppose, while I lay there parched, feeble, helpless by the roadside, that son ,of mine, did? Stole my little stock of provisions, stolopy little bag of money, and without leaving me as much as a cup of water to moisten my baked lips, left mo. May a just Heaven curst his life I" , . , "That was inhuman, his listener said, at last, with a shudder. " Ihave lived to berevenged,"he Went on. "It was two days before I was discovered by emigrants, and life was, nearly extinct. I vowedl would get rich. Fortune favoured me, passing by many a better man. Never mind," with a cunning twinkle in his old eyes, "how much money I've amassed in those twelve years. My servant knew it Was a good deal; that's why he tried to kill me. He it was who rented this house for nie. I've always had dreams while living in this grand placo of meeting my son some day on the street ragged, penniless-of bringing him here, saying : ' This is my I home. lam wealthy. Go and starve! Ob, it took years of grinding to gather the money, but I would gladly give every cent of it for one hour of vengeance—of triumph over him!" ... ~, 1 And while they talked, they did not know' that below Mrs Vernell had a visitor. He had seen her at tho window as he came up the path, and had motioned her to admit. Protesting at heart, but unable to refuse, she obeyed. . ■ When they stood in tho great mined drawing-room, he faced her in intense ajnazement, disgust. " Is it really you ?" he said. He might well ask the question. In this yellow, bowed, shrivelled, grey haired old woman there was little trace of the glowing beauty of Letitia Charu. As she remembered her altered appear ance, she put up both hands and covered her .face with a shuddering cry of dis- m As for him, he looked fresh, young, jaunty ai-l ever, . ".,...■ ~, , _ "A nice trick that you played me ! be said. " Well, we can't talk about it now. There is something, far more important to discuss.' Read that!" . , 'At And he handed her a paper of that morn-

fn flaring headlines was a statement In which one read the words, "*»<£ I "Vernell Estate ,!" "The Swindled And below, a long, gossipy, graphic account of the claim instituted by Vernell against the Vernell property. _ ■ When she had fullycomprehended all that it signified, she looked up with j. calm fa»That makes the work of restitution so much the easier for me. I will not contest th SeoX"was how she took it I Ho must change all that. There was only one, chord he said, "it will bo an act of sheer madness. Do you no!: know^that any suoh course would arouse "^""V; Akeady there are not a few who harbour fuspicion. If you did not contest the S! there are yhundreds who would say, ? Ah! she is stricken with remorse fo* having mnrdertd her buSWmd I ,

It was a bold, risky movo, this "carelessly constructed, unpolished lio. But he knew the bare thought would terrify her into submission. Slie possessed not now her old vigorous, reeriuto brain. Sho was weaker, more easily'influenced. His power over her had always been extraordinary. "She flung her hands above her head with a cry of fear. "Would, they —think, say " sho gasped.

"Would they 5" he repeated, scornfully. Hove I not told you that tho colonel's sudden death is being referred to in curious tones. Only today the man next me in the street-car said to his neighbour : ' I wonder if that brilliant widow the lucky colonel married had anything to do with his exit V " She groaned aloud.

"It is from this," he went on, following up the impression he had made, " that I have come to save you." She fell on her knees before him, con vulsed with terror.

"I could not boar to see you, Letitia, you," his voice taking on a new tender ness, "standing in the felon's dock, con demned "

But her wailing cry interrupted him. " No, no ! Oh, I have dimly dreaded that. The fear is with me always—always. I will do whatever you say, anything, Dennis, if you will only save me I"

Her eyes were fairly starting from her hoad. There was a faint foam on her livid lips.

" It is so late now, there is only one way," he replied, slowly, a gleam of exultation in his pale, lazy eyes. " And that " she whispered. You remember telling mo that young Vernell was with tho colonel tho night of tho—tho death." " Yes." "And I myself, near McVecker's one night, hoard him make threats against him. Now thoso facts, in conjunction with his claim to tho proporty now presented, will save you if " Her glittering eyes questioned him. Ho went on steadily. " if you swear out a warrant lor his arrest on the charge of murdoring his uncle, Colonel James Vernell," Sho crouched back on tho floor, panting. . Her hesitation angered him. He turned away. "Don't then! I wash my hands of you. You aro ungrateful. Go to Joilet for life, if you prefer !" She leaped after him, caught him, clung to him, shivering, shrieking, weeping wildly. " I will, Dennis — l will I" CHAPTER LXIX. "GO TO HER!" "Holds hor fingers and draws her down, Suddenly growing bolder, Till hor 10080 hair drops its masses brown In a mantlo over Mb shoulder." Ella Wheeler, The door barely closed after Vella. Evolyn flung it open again at Marc's ring, "Marc!" " Evelyn !" And ho bent and kissed hor, bis caress, as at his parting, " too warm for a friend and too cold for a lover." But this sho did not notice. Every other feeling was absorbed in the supreme ono of delight in his presence. He had come—hor king had come! was not all well 1 '•■ They went into tho rich, deserted, gas-lit library. " Well," sinking into a moss-green Sleepy Hollow, " it is good to be back in tho midst of civilisation once again." '• "I havo missed you so, Marc I" He put one brown hand on her braided head with a gesture which to a woman less generous in self-surrender would have been intolerable, because of its simple friendli ness, i ; " But I wrote."

'• Yes," pouting deliciously; " but letters are only letters," How well she did look in that rich, soft, ruby gown, with a quaint old golden brooch at her throat, and a creamy rose In her blue black hair! What a charming, gracious woman sho was, and how happy and proud should be the man whom Bhe honoured with her devotion I

All thiß he thought-and next his heart still a little glove, all soiled and crumpled, lay. Ah, mo! They talked on for ten or fifteen minutes, pleasantly, and on familiar subjects, when suddenly there came down the grand stair way without the swish of feminine draperies, tho sound of a low voice " lifting some old-fashioned tuno."

jAn instant later tho library door was thrown wide, and flushed, smiling, bright eyed Kitty Costollo stood before them. She recoiled in confusion at the sight of the occupants. " Oh, I bog your pardon ! I had no idea there was any one here. I—l was just look ing for Vella." That name! Marc Tracy started violently. j "Como in—we aro no ogres," laughed Evelyn. " I foar Vella would hardly be complimented at such an incoherent asser tion. You had 'no idea you would find any one hero, as you were looking for Vella.'" In the excitement of thof moment Evelyn quite forgot her promise to her friend. Kitty laughed too, and came a little for ward. ,-.'.. " Let mo mako you two pilgrims and strangers acquainted," wont on Evelyn, gayly. " Captain Tracy, Miss Oostello." Captain Tracy rose and bowed. Miss Costello bent her gold-brown head, but as sho raised it swiftly, into her face came an expression of surprised recognition. Surely she had heard that name before. "Is it Captain Marc Tracy?"—a trifle diffidently. Again he-bowed. With a sudden radiant smilo, and out stretched hand, she went forward. Ho was Volla's lover—he had come hero to see Velio. " I ought to know you ; I have so often, hoard Aunt Dolly speak of you." IHo clasped tho proffered hand. " Whom did you say ?" ho began. , ; "Oh, I said Aunt Dolly, didn't I? We have drifted into calling her that. I meant Miss Dorothy Vernell. She is a loyal friend of yours." "Indeed!" gently. But, at sound of the name which had been borne by the woman of his love, tho shadow on his dark face deepened. And then Kitty excused herself, and went away. .., , - •■• . Evelyn had quite.forgotten to tell her ot Vella'sdeparture. But justthen, atanother door Mr Gogo entered. Amazed arid delighted at sight of Maro, he hurried forward, shook hands_ warmly, and greeted him with utmost cordiality. The first flush of meeting over, ho turned to Evelyn. "Where is Vella? ho asked. He had come to regard her in tho light of a younger and dear daughter. Again ! Oh, it could not bo she ! But the heart which had not pulsed one throb more rapidly in many a desperate charge in furious frontier bottles now leaped like a prisoned bird at Bound of a woman's name. She is gone back to Chicago !" " What!" thundered Gage. " She got homesick.and she would go ! Evelyn answered. .1 She " and there the girl brokooff. Then, and not one moment sooner, she remembered ! She had promised not to mention her name to Marc Tracy; and "0" OhTthat is too bad!" her father cried in genuine regret and perplexity., "I would have liked so much, Marc, that you should meet Vella Vernell, as beautiful Mdsweot souled a child as ever breathod !' / ... \ So then !it was she I but they clung to her old name. He would muster up courage and pronounce the new one. "MrsClaflin you mean," he said. 1 have mother!' ... John Gage and his daughter stated at him in astonishment.' '''... ... „ "No, sir 1" exclaimed the former,, with a, vigorous shake of his white head. "I don t mean Mrs Claflin. Is it really possible you don't know the truth about that affair l Marc's bronzed cheek paled. What was coming ? "No," he said. , •. " Well, it was a confoundedly good joke, vouknow,"ho began with a great deal of gusto, " oh, there'! the bell!. That's Lloyd Ibout those grain elevators. Evvie will tell you the rest of tho story, Tracy," and he hurried from the room. With a face over which had como a certain breathless interest and suspense, Marc tUSho d muattell him. All the harm which the mero mention of her name could have effected had been inadvertently done. It

would now bo no violation of her promise to speak further.

"Vella did not marry Jonas Claflin. There was some infamous plot concocted at the time to induce her to do so. Voyle was falsely imprisoned on some statement of Colonel Vernell's. Vella's marriage to Claflin was the stipulated price of his free dom. Ho escaped and went through a farce of a ceremony with .Claflin, deceiving every soul except Miss Dorothy, Vella came here to me. Sho has been here till to night. She left just as you came. Why, what is the matter ?"

For he had risen, fallen back a stop or two, and was staring at her with a face over which swept like light, doubt, joy, bewild erment.

" Is it —can it be true ?'' ho cried. His excitement amazed hor. She, too, rose, and faced him.

" It is quite true," she said. And now the great glory and thanks giving which blazed in his dark eyes blotted out every other emotion.

Sho had been true to him ! She had loved him ! Fool, madman that he had been to doubt her. And yet that morning in the Palmer ! There was much to be ex plained of course, but it must have been Voyle who had passed him with Claflin. Yes, yes ! It takes slight argument to con vince us of that which our neart longs to believe.

" Can you ever forgive me ?" he murmured, " my loyal little love !" And then he recollected Evelyn.

Their eyes met. A curious startled look had come to hor,

" You know her ?" she questioned, slowly, "Tho story is a—a shock to you !" What threatened ? A darkness fell upon her spirit, like the hush which presages a storm.

And ho? What could ho say to hor?— how tell her ?

." Aught save the truth would bo insult to her," whispered conscience, Tho truth, therefore, he spoko. " She was tho woman I loved and deemed disloyal." A rod colour had burned out on either bronzed cheok.

Sho put her hand to her heart with a sudden gesture of pain. Ab quickly sho dropped it. "Yes, you told meof hor," sho said, in a low voice; "but I never dreamed it was Telia."

" Does sho know " "Yes ; I told hor." "And sho said?" "Nothing." Thoro was a brief silenco. In the hall without thoy could hoar Kitty Costello's cheery voice calling out some gay rejoinder to a quizzical query of Mr Gage.

" You love her still ?" Marc; started. Which way lay faith ? • Ho looked up. Again their eyes mot, There was no need for words.

Evelyn's lips had lost thoir usual gerani um-bright bloom, Bit with oil her old calm graco, sho wont forward and hold out her hand.

" Bo my brother, Marc !"

"Evelyn!"

Ah, less sublime the horoism of many a martyr at the stake than that of this girl, who, smiling, said: "Go to her I"

Up at Coatello's tho curtains woro drawn, tho lamps wore lighted. Lazy and lovely by tho fire sat Bossie, her soft black gown sweeping out on tho Smyrna rug, a letter held in hor pink fingers, hor purplo blue eyes on tho face of little Miss Dorothy, who, plump, rosy, energetic as over, sat opposite, briskly knit ting " muffatees " for Voyle. " Oh, I'm so glad about Owen, Miss Dorothy!" sho said, for the twentieth timo. '- And Miss Dorothy looked up to nod, dropped a stitch, and put on her glasses to pick it up. " But for tho document ho secured for Voyle, his chances of success would bo feeble. Hark ! there he is !"

And, sure enough, in ho strode, bringing with him arnbuat brecziness, a really hund some niustacho, and a laugh which ono grow young to hear. He kissed Aunt Dolly, shook hands with Bessie, and drew up a chair. . " What's the news ?" "Oh, stick good,news !" cried Bessie. " Owen is out of danger." " By Jove, that is good !" averred Voylo. " Have you heard from Velio lately ?" Miss Vernell asked her nephew. " No. Her letters of lato have beon like tho visits of very conservative angels—ex ceedingly few and very far between." They talked on for an hour, when Voyle suddenly said : " Oh, whoever do you supposo I saw on tho street today ?"

"WhO?" _ ; "That lawyer of my uncle's—Grimes. \Vhen ho loft, about a couplo of months ago, ; he gave out that ho was going to Germany for a year. He must have got wind of this claim of mine, and como back," " Listen !" said Besßio. A carriage hnd stoppod before tho gate. A fow moments later the boll rang. They heard tho servant open tho hall-door, j Then that of tho room In which they sat was thrown wido. Tho trio glanced toward tho threshold. Quick as lightning they wore on their feet, with an astonished welcoming cry. "Volla!" And, truly, thoreshestood—a lily-cheeked golden-haired, sombre-olad figure in tho gaslight. The next moment Voyle had her in his arms, and then she was folded to Miss Dorothy's fluttering little heart. , Oh, the Babel there was in that room for . the next ten minutes! tho inquiries, and assurances, and caresses, and wolcoming words, and loving gladnees ! Bessie slipped out to order Bupper for the traveller, and the three who loved each other bo were alone to gether. Voylo and Aunt Dolly were horrified at Vella's appearance. j "Where on earth have your pretty pink I roses gone ?" they cried; But she turned it off with a laughing comment on Voylo's mustache, and declared, he would make now a very odd bride I " But What of Marc, Vella ?" her brother asked, suddenly. . Miss Dorothy, fondly stroking one little white hand, felt the fingers close fiercely for a moment around hers. "It is all over between us. Please don't speak of him any more, dear 1" she said, quietly. " Was it all on account of that wretched meeting?" he cried. " I can tell you nothing, Voylo," she answered, softly, hurriedly, ". except that, if you love me, you will never speak to mo of him. He is to marry Evelyn Gage." Voyle sprang from hia chair, with a smothered oath. "It is all right, dear." Vella put up hor hand on his arm and laughed out in her old, sweet way. " Believe me, dear, it is best as it is. Now, Voylo, for my sake, let us talk of it no moro." And then tho servant brought in refresh ments ; Bessiefpllowed.andthe conversation became genCral. Half an hour later Miss Dorothy and Vella went upstairs, and Voyle and Bessie were left alone. Eor three full minutes neither said a word. It was Btrange that an em barrassing silence sometimes fell between these two. ThegirlpickedupMissDorothy's knitting and went on with it. Voyle sat arid watched her. " Bessie !" "Well?" • ■ Don't you think yon could show me how to do that?" " Oh, gracious, no !" knitting rapidly on, prim as a little Puritan., "Its very difficult for beginners." , " Had you over your fortune told ?" He was making a great many bravo " breaks." '"No." " I can read the palm like a book." (Oh, Voyle, Voyle!)., "Will, you let me tell yours?" She laughed, and shook her bonny brown head. "Ignorance is bliss;" Jupiter, how time was flying! VeL&and Miss Dorothy had been upstairs" tvronty minutes. Thoy would soon be down. Remember when you were in tho same plight yourselves, you happy old Benedicts, and pity him ! He rose, walked over to the window, dr>?w aside the curtain. "Oh, Bessie!" he cried, in a sttrtl ed

voice. She dropped her work in alarm, an! raw over to where he stood, "Is it fire?"

He laughed out at the success of h ruse.

"No," he answered, meekly, "It's a new moon."

" The idea of exclaiming at sight of the moon." Let me go, you ridiculous boy." But evidently that ridiculous boy knew too well when he had a good thing to let it go lightly. " But it is a new moon, Bessie, "he persis ted. " And you have seen it over your right shoulder. Why don't you wish ?" " Wish yourself I" "I have." " Havo you 1 What was your wish ?" " That I had a certain dear little girl for my own precious wife !" And his bold, bright eyes were fastened eagerly on the shy, uplifted face. "Oh !" And then in innocent inquiry : " What is she like? Tell me about her."

" Well," musingly, " she is neither tall nor small. To use Orlando's loyal words," laughing, " she is just as high as my heart!" " Yes," said Bessie.

And now sho did not try to run away. " And—oh, I can't describe her. But if you will let me, I shall tell you her name." "Do!" " Bessie!"

How the soft, young cheeks did crimson I " Bessie what ?" Oh v you coquettish little lady! " Bessie— darling ?" And now his daring arms were around her, and tho look of royal, resolute love which makes successful wooers—for girls will be masterfully won—in his handsome eyes. "Oh ! and you wished " " That sho would come to me for ever and ever !"

An inaccurate and youthful speech, but

Well, jxtst how it happened—no, I won't tell you! Como away, you inquisite mortal! Would you have thanked anybody who came in truding then ? Come away this instant! Well, yes, you may listen at the keyhole, (I know it isn't strictly honourable, but then you are so curious.) Only for a moment, though ! " Voyle," in a happy, laughing whispor, "isn't it funny—l—l wished— ivhat you did!"

Surely, you will como away now! Tho very keyhole is blushing !

(To be Continued.)

BEYOND THE RANGE.

[By Geo. R. Pahrish.] t TnE grey-haired editor of tho "Rocky 1 Mountain Weekly Bugle " was very busy | that hot summor morning. So likowiso { were the two compositors, sitting at their f high cases over by the dingy window, where t tho sunlight had such hard work to look in. t Only tho small office boy was idly sleeping ■upon a pile of blank papor, in the darkest _ corner of tho room where even tho redness < of his hair was neutralised, The town was j sleoping in tho sun without, and tho office ; was very still within; nothing breaking < tho monotonous quiet save tho regular j clicking of tho typo falling rapidly into ] placo, and tho heavy breathing of the < sleeping boy. ( Now and then tho editor would halt In ( his swift writing long enough to aim a ] vicious blow at some fly carrying on mining , operations moro vigorously than usual, , but these interruptions woro slight, and could scarcely bo said to interfore with the rapid manner in which he was preparing a ' column of personals, worded in tho rough | wit of tho West. . ' , The office and publication room of the ' " Weekly Bugle" was not large. Neither ■ was it distinguished for arrangement or cleanliness. , . „ , . ! The two type casos wero huddled up to- ; gethor on eithor side of tho only window A ; large table, next to tho great hand-press, was groaning beneath tho woight of ex changes, and over tho littered dosk of tho editor-as tho only ornament to tho low, dark room—was hung a gorgoousrepresenta tion of " Sunset in the Arctic Seas." When I first remember seeing it, this was con sidered a vory fine work of art, but at the timo of which I write, some disturbance of tho elements had knockod tho glorious luminary of day clear across tho ice-clad waters, until it had found soreno reposo in tho well-stocked wasto-baskot. i The job work to bo done in mountain 1 newspaper offieos in those oarly days was not extensive, the circulation of tho papor was limited to the fow minors and pros pectors in tho direct neighbourhood, and consequently tho " Bugle's " editor and proprietor was hardly waxing wealthy fast enough to cause onv foelings of jealousy to spring up in tho breasts of tho other inhabitants of tho Golden City. _ In the various newspaper directories 1 think you will find—or would havo found after the " Weekly Bugle's " name, a singlo mysterious " X," yet still the prospectus of that year had referred to it as the greatest s,nd grandest newspaper enterprise over undoi takon west of the Great Range. . '■ Tho column of personals was at length completed, and tho writer stopped and con tewplated his work with a smilo of satis faction, and then, after a few dots here and there along the manuscript in correction of minor orrors, was about laying aside his pen when tho sleeping devil uttered a heart /rending groan, rolled off his porch with a loud thump upon the floor, and then sat up, rubbing his half-opened eyes In astonish ment. Before the editor could fully recover from his surpriso at this phenomenon, tho front door swung creaking open, and a boy entered, with evident hesitation. > " I wish to see the editor if he is in, he half aßked of tho compositor who chanced to be nearosb him. • " I am tho editor," camo from tho littered desk. "What can Ido for you, my boy ?" When thus kindly addressed the visitor, who might have seen Boventeen years, camo quickly forward into the stronger light. Ho was a remarkably good-looking young I fellow, now he had removed his wide-bnm ,-ied hat, a bright, intelligent face, a slender fi xe, with such clear blue eyes smiling out from . uder his short-cut, curling hair, such 5 ?™L • -deed, as you and I have sometimes mnt ii'nnn t,vOstroet, and havelonged to speak with as we p -*»<*• The b°y of our S toit> cleaning the editor's cuspu.,°™.' f ~ "Pleaso, sir, I called to se^« y°u «ould not employ mo as a reporter ?" The question was breathed for 1'" so v°ry low thtit the oditor barely caught tiN} words, and tho small hands toyed With tOO »»' band nervously. ~ ; ~t o " Wo wish some one to act as local ca «or and look over our exchanges," Marlr Hop kins answered, looking into the briglu young face in some surprise. " What ex perience have you had in newspaper work, my boy?" ~"'.,', - " But very little, sir, I am afraid—a few months of reporting in a very small country village to a neighbouring paper, aod some ' scattered articles in Eastern publications Is all." . , . ~ The old editor smiled, not unkindly. __ "I fear that is hardly the right school for what we would bo obliged to require, he said. " I hardly think you would fill the placo." i. " Oh, please, sir, won t you lot me try . i I believe I can do the work if you will only let me try, and—and I need it bo much. _ i , Tho soft voice had a quiVer of tears jn it, and the blue eyes, bent down to the editor ... pleasant face so pleadingly, were wet. The devil lookod up from his work in cur . prise, and muttered something to tho cuspi dore about milk-sop, but his chief looked a 1 i the slender form and wet eyes very differ ently. . , , • i If Mark Hopkins had one weakness in al I his strong nature, it was that of generosity ' He could never refuse aid to those asking it who were willing and anxious to helj > themselves. As an editor, surrounded by _ , wild and new civilisation, he was absolutel; fearless, never consulting his own happiness 7 but striking blows for whatever he consid ered as the right. A single man, who hai i himself passed through much of the hard ships of life, unaided and alone, he neve r. lost his love for the young, never hesitate; when it was in his power to make their lif ' moTo pleasant than his own had ever been

He was interested now in both the face and manner of the lsd before him; a burst of sympathy came into the great heart and prompted the answer which his head refused. "Well, well, we'll see. Don't cry, my boy, I'll put you at work, but only on trial, remember." "Oh sir, I thank you." What happiness had crept into the boy's voice. There was a moment's pause, tho white fingers toying still with the hatband, nervously; then he asked, " Please, sir, may I not begin without delay?" Pleased at tho evident desire for im mediate employment, yet without a word, tho old editor turned to examine the papers' upon one of the files beside his desk, while the lad's eyes followed his deliberate motions with great anxiety. " Do you know where the Sea-Bird mine is ?" was finally asked. "Yes, sir; the second claim beyond the tunnel." "Very well, my lad, you may go there and write it up—the whole property of tho company, remember. We aro short of matter this week, so give them at least a column." " Yes, sir, I will go at once." The boy turned quickly as if in a hurry to commence his new labours, perhaps equally anxious to escape the searching eyes of the devil, who, forgetting his ostensible work, now sat, rag in hand, upon the floor. " By the way," the editor called after him, as the door swung open, "what did you give as your name ?" "Jul—ius Piatt." If there was any hesitancy in the reply, it passed unnoticed. " Piatt—Piatt; not any relation to Poker Piatt, I should hope ?" with some curiosity. ." Slightly connected, sir. lam stopping with him." And, as if to escape further questioning, the boy passed quickly out, and the low hallway was too dark for tho flush which sprang over his face to bo noticed. " Tho connection, judging from appear ances, must be slight indeed," mused the old man, as he turned back to his interrupted work once more. Probably he hoped so, as well, for old Poker Piatt hod developed into one of the celebrities of Golden City, but not a cele brity which the inhabitants wore at all proud of exhibiting to strangers as a pro duct of tho place. Ono of the first comers into the narrow valley, among the foot-hills, he rapidly sank what money he had in the mines, and soon drifted in prospecting for others on a grub-stake. Saloon-keeping was the next step in the downward scale, and gambling rapidly followed, untill finally he sank to the social status of loafer and vagabond. How he managed to live now that his fingers- hod lost their cunning, the good people of Golden City never knew, and though thoy may at times have enter tained grave suspicions, yet they never made it their business to inquire into it at all closely. For tho past few months, at least, he had given them no cause for complaint, as he had been lying in his little cabin high up in the gulch, "Cut with an axe," he said, but Sam Blood, who attonded him, as tho nearest approach to a physician in camp—he being onco a janitor in a medical school—said that he considered it a gunshot wound. But so long as he must keep quiet tho people cared not to inquire closely into the cause. And so the old gambler was left to end his miserable life as best he could— alono. If he had in tho far East relatives or friends, thoy wore unknown, and his lips had never opened to their names,[and now, as his lifo had been passed in the darkness, so was it left to flicker out without a dawn. At his desk Mark Hopkins toiled on, and the morning passed slowly away into the sultry air of noon. It was hot, stilling hot, in that long, low room, in spite of the light mountain atmosphere and tho picture of Arctic seas. The editor was overworked, tho compositors clamored for copy, and EevoralintellieroiitoitizensdropDedin without previous invitation and proceeded to make thomselves at home, and relieve thoir over burdened minds, and amid all theso diver sions tho long morning passed quickly. In themultitudo of otheraffairsthonowreporter had been ontirely forgotten—as tho oditor no doubt would have expressed it, tho boy had been crowded outto make room for more interesting matter—and the chief was just drawing on his well-worn coat pre paratory to going for his noonday lunch when tho door opened and, flushed by his long tramp in tho hot sun, the lad enterod. As ho only expressed a desire to complete his work, he was assigned a table where he might write, and then left alone, deeply busied with his report. I havo not the spaco, though I confess I havo the inclination, to dwell at length upon tho days that followed. There was something about tho clean, neat manuscript presented to tho oditor on his return that pleased tho professional eye, and thoro was something pleading in the boy's anxious face as he stood silently by during tho reading that touched the old man's heart, and as a result he was retained —retained to run here and thoro over the hills during the dry, hot summer days, to write through the long nights in the little cabin high,up in the gulch, with an old man, feeblo and childish, sleeping heavily beside him, to do odd jobs and Bkin the oxohanges in tbe little office, exposed to all the ; tricks and worry of the mischievous urchin who mode his first visitso unpleasant; retained for this, and doing it all quietly without a murmur or a word of complaint. The rosy face grew paler and moro care worn as tho months slipped by, and the chief noticed it, and tried in vain to lighten the work tho young shoulders bore so uncomplainingly. But the lad's ambition and the face of pain ever waiting for him in the little cabin where Poker Piatt drew out tho lingering breath of his weary life, urged him on to work under which many a man would have fallen. The paper exhibited tho marks of his care and interest, and every now and then contained an article of singular force and beauty from his pen. Once, for a week, he was kept close at home by sickness, and then did the chief learn all his value to him, and when, at ' length, Btill jaded and weak from his severe illness, tho boy came back, the welcome " caused tho tears to well up in the blue eyes, i and the old man's voice to falter, i So the months, with their changes and i their labours, passed on, and each week the : "Bugle" greeted its little world with , well-filled.columns and marks of loving toil. i I have already written that if Mark ■ Hopkins had ono failing, it was generosity )to tho young. If he had another—con i siderlng his situation—it was the fearless , maintenance of his own private opinion, f dospito the popular fooling of thecommunity wherein ho lived. I During tho autumn following tho in troduction of tho new reporter to, the r columns of the " Bugle," the inhabitants , of Golden City experienced a change of • hoart. This change did not originate in the frenzy of a religious camp-meeting, nor did r it evaporato its usefulness in prayers and - sacred songs, but that the conversion was !• deep was evidenced by the sudden uprising • of the vigilantes. . Every morning brought its tale of rude justice moted out, and its body swinging in r tho wind, until Judge Lynch had grown j into a fiend himself, and the neighbouring _>■ camps held up their hands in pretended 3 horror at the extremes to which the ven geance had been carried. Mark Hopkins hesitated not to denounce 1 it, and his ready pen lashed the leaders as " tho whip of the huntsman would his dogs. I He dared to call it murder, and the murmurs and threats wafted to his ears only brought ? from him a more stinging reply. In such a y state of society as surrounded Golden City the end could not be long doubtful, and at :, length it came. s One pleasant afternocn, a committee with Sandy McNeil at their head, filed up the •- dark "stairs and invaded the office. They i- found the man they sought bending over his ,t desk, his young reporter beside him correot :- ing proofs. , The lad's lips grew very white, as, start- II ] led by the footsteps, he looked up and saw r, who entered. There was no difficulty in t, guessing their mission, but he never stirred p from the side of his chief. a With a slight hardening in his cool, grey y eyes the old editor looked up calmly, s, " Well, gentlemen, what is it you wish of 1-1 me to-day ?" ,d [ "Ye been lyin' about us," ejaculated Mp -- Neil, who seemed to be pushed ahead as the m spokesman, "an' the boys sent us hereto id make ye chaw yer words :so cum now, bo fe lively, or we'll throw your old office into the il, street. Ain't that it, boys?"

A howl of approval testified to the feelings of his supporters, ' " Gentlemen"—the old man arose slowly fro n his chair and stood calmly facing them —" I have been in your midst working^ for the interests of your young town ever since it started. During all that time 1 have enr deavoured to conduct myself as a good citizen and an honest man. _ In my paper I have only said what I believe to be right and true. I shall not retract it because of your force. This small office is all I have in the world. It represents the hard labour of forty years. Do you expect me to stand quietly by and see it destroyed ?" "Shut up all that gammon, old man; don't threaten us. Wi' ye take back the lies ?" It was a voice in the crowd.

■'You talk where I cannot see you," he said, " like cowards, not brave men. I have no lies to retract. I said when you hung Andy Burch up in that ravine you were murderers, and I repeat it now." As these last brave words rang out clear and distinct in the little room, the crowd of men surged forward. The fierce look of animal hato was on every evil countenance, and an oath upon every tongue. McNeil, in advance, leaned over and grasped the heavy bottle of ink on the table.

<■ d ye, that settles it!" burst from his lips. "Drop it I" The words fell in a shrill, almost feminine voice, as the slender form of the boy sprang before tho table, and the advancing ruffian started back as ho looked into the cold, polished tubes of the chief's revolver held in that nervous shaking hand. " You cowards, ten of you on one old man, you dare not" A bare arm flung up, back by the door, something cutting the dark air; the revol ver exploded, burying its leaden messenger in a beam overhead, and when the blue smoke rolled away the room was almost deserted, and the old editor bent low over the white f ace of the boy where he lay on the dirty floor. " 0 God ! They have killed him, and for me," his broken voice kept saying. " It is better so, sir," the white lips mur mured, as if gasping for their breath. "Send-send for Po—ker Piatt, send quick—for lam dy—ing." It was no time for tears or words. The little devil was called forth from behind the press, where ho had hidden himself, and despatched for the ex-gambler. " Get a waggon and bring him if he can not walk," were his hasty orders, and then the old oditor came back to the side of the boy. The heavy bar of iron that had felled him lay olose to the table, and without knowing Why, the old man took It up, looked at it through his tears, and then threw it down into the street.

The boy was now talking to himself. ' "What will he do now—oh, my poor ' father, poor father—it will kill him—oh, it ' will—dear, dear old father I" '•' And the editor's tears fell upon the white ' drawn face, over which the damp of death ' was stealing. ' " Oh, if I could have lived—just to help ' you—poor, sick father—how you will suffer ■' now—it is hard, hard, hard." j And tho silent watcher looked anxiously • down the street for his messenger, the great ' tears-running down his furrowed cheeks ". into his white beard. " My brave boy, O God, it is not right! To die so young for me," he kept repeating. At last, after what seemed hours of delay, the messenger returned, Just as the long shadows of evening wero stealing in through the ohe dingy window, and falling over the ; dying boy, the gambler, in the arms of two strong men, was borne up tho dark stairs to his side. "Julia," his lips, with scarcely more colour in them than the ones he addressed, managed to say, "don't you know me, darling ?" ■ ... The heavy lids opened slowly, and the Iblue eyes lightened up with recognition. "Father, I am—so sor—ry for you." "Not mo, not mo, O God, not me 1" Tho old, -n-onk voico trombled. and the tears choked him. "But, little girl, you are so young—l cannot, omy God, I cannot let I you go !" " father, kiss me—l believe lam dying. Thoy scarcely could hear the faint words bending ovor her. " Quick, please," and the old man pressed his withered lips to hers. " Oh, no, no, no ! You must not, you cannot die so—Julia—Julia !" The girl Bmiled up at him once, her lip formed into good-bye, and the fair young life passed away from oarth for ever. Tho old gambler started up, his pain gone, his wound forgotten; " She is dead, dead I" he cried, " and you have killed her ! My little girl who worked 1 so hard to keep my miserable life. I loved her, loved her I say ! Sho was all I had— and now you've killed her. May the curse of God-" And gasping painfully for the breath that failed him, the old man fell forward into tho editor's arms. They sleep together now, over beyond she Range—father and child—sleep where the early sunlight falls in golden tears over their graves and the bending mountain cedars sing their requiem. Pass not hasty judgment on her hidden sex ; remember only tho brave, true heart, and the weeks of patient toil for the sick and dying father. Surely the rest may woll be blotted out.—" Ballou's Magazine."

Exploits of Gen. Komaroff.

Gen. Komakoit distinguished himself by military tact, audacity,and resourcefulness, as well as perponal bravery, in the Russo- Turkish campaign in Asia Minor in 1877, when he won his present rank of General. After the capture of Ardahan, near the Russo-Turkish frontier, Col. Komaroff was left in command of a detachment which had the difficult duty of defending a considerable tract of the neighbouring mountainous country, and of protecting the Russian frontier as well as covering the flank and rear of the army then operating against Kars. When the movement urged by Loris Melikoff was made against Erzeroum, Col. Komaroff executed a very bold and success ful manoeuvre. With a flying squadron he advanced from Ardahan, passing rapidly round the enemy's flank, and came down upon a part of the Turkish force which was holding the Panak Pass on the Sahanlough Range, which commanded access to the town of Olti on the northern side, whence the Turks intended to attack Ardahan. Col. KomarofTs unexpected appearance had such an effect that tho enemy retreated at once without fighting, and the Russians were enabled to occupy Panak and Olti, and to capture 2,000 rifles and 500,000 cartridges. When at a subsequent period of the cam paign the Russian troops were ordered to re tire from Hadj-Vali, Col. Komaroff, with his detachment, found himself placed in ; ,a very perilous position by reason of the with drawal of tho main column of the Russian force, from which he became separated by.a distance of from f°ur to five miles, while he was exposed to Turkish fire from the twin heights of Great and Little Yalta. By a, dash he drove off the 200, Turkish cavalry who held the Great Yalta, stationed a body of his own men in their place, and under cover of their fire brought the main part of his own force round to tho eastern slope of the hill, where after a time they were joined by re-inforeements from the Russian army under the very nose of the enemy, and the whole force was enabled to retire in order.

During the attack of the Turks on the night of July 31st (August Ist) upon tho camp at Kiouriouk-Dara, Col.—or rather at this date Gen.—Komaroff, for he had already been promoted to that rank, was charged with a detachment to take up a position at Mount Karaal, four versts from the Russian camp, and there to act at his discretion. It was on this occasion that he received a wound in the breast, which, how ever, did not prove serious, the bullet having struck a religious medal which he wore. Gen. Komaroff subsequently took part in tbe storming of Kars, and .contri buted no unimportant share in that cele brated action. At the conclusion of the war ho was made Commandment an Batoum, on the Euxino, and after the Akhal Tekke Expedition he was placed in command of the trans-Caspian army. The Russians at tribute the peaceful annexation of MerV in a large measure to Gen. KomarofFs tact and skill in other than military matters.—"Pall Mail Gazette."

A LADY'S LETTER FROM LONDON.

Feminine Facts, Fancies, and Frivolities,

(BY ElilSE.)

Goring Thomas's New Opera—"Nadeshda"— Mrs Lanotht—The Author of "Society in London:" Who is it?—An Extraor dinary Success in 3 Weeks—Amusincl Gossip—Florence Warden's New Story "A Prince of Darkness "—Her otiiek Works.

London, April 23. We went to Drury Lane Theatre last Thurs day to hear the new opera by Mr Goring Thomas, about which the musical world is talking so much. I can't say I greatly en joyed myself, or that I thought the work particularly pleasing. Luckily the popular ity of theee " musicians of the future" doesn't hold out long. This time last year Dr. Villies Stanford was the hero of tho hour, and everybody was praising his "Canterbury Pilgrims." Boosey, who bought the copyright of that opera for £1,500, put it up to auction the other day. There was only one bid— five pounds, "Nadeshda" is not, I am bound to say, such stuff as the " Canterbury Pilgrims." It contains lyrics which, taken per se, aro charming, and will doubtless be heard in many drawing-rooms. A sardonic drink ing song for the baritone, " Our Sires were Stout and Brave," a soprano air, "As When the Snowdrift in the Dell," and another, [•' Oh ! River, Dear River," may be instanced as examples. Tho scene of "Nadeshda" is laid in Russia. Prince Voldemar and his brother Ivan are both in love with a serf girl on their estate, who has also an adorer in Ostap, a day labourer. Voldemar promises to give Ivan any possession of his he likes to ask for on hia birthday. Ivan demands Nadeshda, Voldemar, however, has set the serf girl free in order that she might not be one of his possessions. Ivan, very angry, tries to abduct Nadeshda, but is stabbed by Ostap, who afterwards kills himself. Voldemar's mother makes a futile attempt to stop the Prince marrying the humblo heroine, but is, of course, foiled, and all ends happily! Mrs Langtry has, I am very glad to hear, achieved a genuine success as Laiy Ormonde in "Peril" (Nos Fatimes). We have not been to the Princes' yet, but they say her acting is clever, and her dresses something to envy and dream about. "Who wrote' Society inLondon'?" is tho question one hears asked everywhere just now. The little volume has barely been out a fortnight, yet it has already reaohed a third edition, and is increasing In popularity daily. I certainly enjoyed reading _it thoroughly. Women dearly love gossip,, and this is such capital gossip, good natured, and literally full of epigram. The author never seems mischievous. At times one comes across an allusion that smacks of malice, but the ill-nature, if any, is so daintily wrapt up that even the objects themselves must be in doubt what to think. Take tho description of Mrs Gladstone, for example. Nothing could be better. Many will consider it a portrait; oven the lady's friends may doubt whether the pervading touch of Satire was not involuntary. On ono point all are protty well agreed. The author of "Society in London" is a man. The knowledge displayed of the. cliques and sets into which society is broken up would have been far more exact if it had been a woman. Much of the book, too, is composed of the sort of stuff that mcii talk jat'their clubs. At least so Tom says. ;Th6 criticisms are 'Bmoking - room criticisms, smart; but not always reliable. I have not read a good novel for an. age now. Edna Lyall's "Donovan" (six shil-. lings) was the ,last I liked. "A Prince of Darkness," tho story Florence Worden is, contributing to tho "World," promises to prove far the best thing she has done so far. I sco from an interview In tho London "Ago" that both her "Dog With a Bad Name " (recently issued in 3 vols.) and "A Vagrant Wife" now running through tho "Family Herald"), Were both written be fore "Tho House on the Marsh." ..,

In Search of Mount Cook.

AwßiTEßinthe Melbourne "Argus," who is describing his holiday in Hfew Zealand, gives the following amusing account of his ineffectual attempts to discover Mount Cook, and of his subsequent disenchantment With regard to Oamaru:—.,,_.-,

From Dunedinitis easy to reach either; the north or the south of the island by sea or by rail. Consequently it is very con veniently situated for a tourist's ! head quarters, I made it mine, and it was hence' that I started on my various trips. The first of these was my expedition in i search of Mount Cook. This seems to imply that the mountain was lost, but that is not 1 my meaning. I only wanted to; see it. I asked a Dunedin friend how this'was to be-; managed;: '! Nothing simpler;" he replied. "Take the train for Christchurch, arid when, you are just beyond Timaru look to the left; and there you are." * '•' So I took the train, and sped northward by the express, at a rate of rather more than J fifteen miles an hour. Past Blueskin, where I altnoßt wished the train would go slower, as wo ruphed round the point on a narrow - ledge, with the sea boiling beneath; past farm and station, plain and hill; past Oamaru; past well-tilled fertile volcanic rises that recall Barrabool; past Timaru. And now, I thought, the time has come. I looked to the left, and there, far away in the distant heaven, half hidden •by the gathering clouds, I saw a enow-capped' range. "At last," with reverent eyes, I gazed at the far-famed mountain. Emotion found its vent in song : — • -''■'-

Mount Cook is the monarch of mountains. They crowned it long ago; But whom they got to put the Crown on,

I really do not know,

I was so delighted with the pootic effort, it had such a Byronic-albeit Smithic—ring about it, that I repeated it aloud, pointing to the mountain as I did so. "That ain't Mount Cook," said a rough voice behind me. ' It was the guard, who had come on to the platform unperceived. " You can't Eec hiua from here." " Butl waetold you Could. . I", have come here on purpose." " Well on a very clear day, if you know exactly where to look out, you might see him for about five ; minutes; but you couldn't to-day." My poetry had been wasted on a nameless But I wasn't to be Ipeaton. So at the'first stoppine-placo I determined to get somo information. "Guard, could you take a littlo refreshment?" "I could, sir, only my inspector is on board ; but I could drink your health another timo. Thank you." "Where should I go to sco this blessed mountain ?" " Fairlie Creek is the railway ; station nearest to it. You had better go there.", , . I went. As we were approaching tho: statioh I confided to a bucolic follow-pas senger- that I was going to sco Mount Cook from Fairlie Creek. He smiled, and said, "You can't for tho same reason that the Spanish fleet could nof bo seen—it's not in Bight;" Noticing my look; of disappoint ment, he added : "But you go to Silver Creek ; that's your placo." I went to Silver Creek, I walked there against a head hurri cane. I inquired for Mount Cook. No Mount Cook. But I was told to get a horse and rido through Burkes Pass to Lake Tek'apo, and then I would be all right. I got'a horse. A sudden thought struck mo as I was about to start. "Can I see Mount Cook from Lake Tekapo ?" " Oh, dear, no. But if you get another horse and a guidO there, and go to Blenheim, and if the weather should happen to bo fine—" This was too much. I turned back without a Word. I never saw Mount Cook^ . Mount Harris is its proper name,. "I don't believe there'ain't such a mountain." , '.

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JUNE 20, 1885.

3



" BUCHU PAIBA."-Qnlck, complete cure, nil mnoylni' Sidney, Btadder »nd l&in.y_ l__eajo«- At Drnssi.lv ___ KeuT. ,;.-. •-'•""- • -(euU, IMlolilUt. .



Good Resolutions.—At the commencement ot every new year hundreds and thousands oI:> our young men—and old as well—form resolu tions for their guldanoo for the coming year. , Many kcoptliom, while others break them. To Buoh wo wish to give a word of advice. In order: to sustain your determination of leading a., better life in tho future, you should use Hop Bitters. The judicious use of Hop Bitters strengthens, cleanses, and purifies the stomach; bowels, blood, liver, nerveß, and kidneys, and Is just what you want to build up and invigorate yourself.— Oreenbush Dem. Head. ...., DECLINE OP MAN.-Nert<ra« Weaknwn, Dnpeprtfc Impotence, 8o*u»l Debility, cured by " : WelV» Health Benewer." _ ' P^^. KWV . ere», Fnnm * 0»« Aiiata AsrtAs* )