THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1887.

tgtfPPIJSMEST,-

SABINA ZEMBRA.

A NOVEL.

! 0 WILLIAM BLA CK t 1 nf" Maoleodof Dare," " A Princess of Thule," &c, &c.

gIOBT OF TRANSLATION 13 RESERVED.]

•, oPS IS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS apteßS I. and ll.—Sils Anthony Zembrn, C 'cb, handsome, bland of manner, his wife nof fashion, and his dinners famous for '- xoellence, was yet the most dptcstod man i^j^nsho was one of the meanest. He •fr^ily engaged inspecting tho items o f h nable intelligence, in which the name of tra prominent' y figures, and which have K ntlr beon self-inspired, -when ho is inter tdbya bustling noise, and a young man, fled and helpless, is borne into the room- Twedby Sabina, the daughter of tho mag* i He protests againut his house boing made .<siaii?hterhoU3o. She, however, hasher " t«tf and. with a knowledge gained by six oTfD fhs' experienoo a.3 & hospital nurse, she P^jjim'until thp Htrival of a surgeon. The " -Ipnt was Occasioned through the young B „ who v'dS' on a bicycle, endeavouring to "ft cle" <• of Sabina's dog. At his request, *£ the accident is wired to the Duko of ■fflSJWho name of Fred Foster. *T.,*i>!rtt3 UI and IV.—Jnnie Wygram. a I® frtttdofSabinas, perceives that Walter Wft* awcalthy young artist, is iv love with W 1 hrr.friends call her, but that she her- heart-whole, not, having yet ** Slove's"pleasingpain." AtWaltor'a .WTfaniopromises to induce Sabina to ac ** L her to a musical evening at Lindsay's *"fftV> meet the great Horella, a new bari- J* •Mrs Wygram, James mother, also pro- tn attend and superintend the arrange •"..far the supper. In ihe meantime Sabie, *.tant attendance upon the woim.led man. gSSiterestedinhis sporting talk and talcs Kracecoursc. Liters V. AND VI.-At the supper party J?K«gses off satisfactorily-. Sabina is pressed present from Lindsay, but all that S'Sentsi to do is to drink a little wine from "■Tablet, which ho asks her to receive at |ffi Tho act niake3 the uup thirty times *£rataable to him, he says. Next day Fred ! Srthe'invalid, leaves for Brighton, aabina Sjinie Wygram bidding him adiea at the TIL AND TIIL-To get rid of his kSation and love-sickness, Walter Lindsay, Tirtist loaves London for tho shores of the A«mnn'and there with the glorious Irish Sr around him. and the wholesome air ffiheriver blowing upon him. he tries to Eof Sabina merely as a friend. He I Sb 3 the scenery, and wonders if one par- i X picture will please Sabina sufficiently { Star tt accept it from him. Ho works hard | \ slays hard, writes to Miss Wygram and •*£ of Sabina as a friend for tho X and having thoroughly satisHed Hi that he is now thoroughly heart-! 5T and can meet Sabina down by j Barton Square or elsewhere and take her GHfithout a tremor, ho ends his holiday nil returns to London. CffAPTEBSIX. and X.—Mrs Wygram, falling | ill i 3 taken by Sabina to Brighton. They there j «tMrFoster, still an invalid in a bath chair, j nJSgbina's easy style of talk to the young man rttincesMrs Wygram that either she is carry tehergood nature to the verge of folly, or she iimost abominable flirt, ltoturning toLon fa Sabina visits the Academy, and there en (iiiten Lindsay, who conducts her round the Bbibition.

CHAPTER XI

A K)REBODIM(;

iSfflttreturned to Brighton, and to Mrs iffgram, and to long, idling, sunny morn igsal; the end of the West pier in the mSjrof Mr Fred Foster. Mrs Wygram vk on this continual and evcr-increas kjotimscy with alarm which it was im piefor her to put into words. In her irftay, too, she did what she could to rat the danger that she too clearly fore- X ?Bat it was in vain that she hinted bjiperence for inland drives ; and she WJspt well insist, for it was Sabina who &fed the eoßt of these amusements. Mitira? in vain that she tried to oulti «js.&bina's interest in Mr Lindsay; jnfig Ottfc his name in the list of the ?»te;ab the Academy banquet; telling btorhe had been included in the toast <>48"Outsiders" at the Academy Club Greenwich, and that his speech in i^f lid produced the most favourable ■VtSflon; coming back again and again fe iootuseqaenb praise of the Shannon ■pwi&they had hung up in their small "taftoom; and wondering if there was iNbility of his being descended from ;. "Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, wt& lion King at Arms." tebasomehow seemed indifferent about «]ifflky. She expressed no dissent W« Wygram insisted that he was so *jjfi and handsome, and popular, and I.**** .and all the rest of it; nay, she I|PI admit that that was true, and «Mtaß deserving of all good things; Jw.raend. And Mrs Wygram was SjjJ-w express any more clearly her ■""fc-and her fears. asreover, as time went on, she observed ygpsble: alteration in Mr Foster's Sj|wardß Sabina; and it came about Mjj*s!- On the morning after Sabina's g^om-Lpndon.-theyas usual strolled ■j^oeend-pf the Pier; and there, sure Jpjwag the occupant of the Bath-chair, 2jP"&'Coloured sporting paper, and ■■Wwwtery well content with himself. it^T do- yo? do > Miss Zembra?" said j. ;1 was thinking about you yesterday T^ein London." S,fe * chanced to fall in with ono of I !S Snate8 ~~an ex-Mayor—who said B Wf'r ?°mewhere or other, I forget ifc; xrn a Prefcty long chafe to' H'Wih ' • amongst other things he MMue S e.aboufc a Kte and bazaar they ■WKr ,m the pavilion Gardens to ■*»eft*|i for- w«at was it?—l think ■mS* 811* Home attached to the ISI*; and that his wife had ■W^grtnpßstall for the sale of wssk - i nß> and so on- Bufc the m\^ 3 lfc appears, is a sensible ■i|l% 7 e8&y6Bhe wants to obtain the iJ P retfcy yOUng f I^ftrJ cable t0 &*> P lenty of H% !s u f e flowers from the young ■iS 11 Well, 1 told him I knew li^liß it ?nswered that description, lIT g P°SBibly be induced to " i'StllS 7"? Mr Foster's ordinary H^nTu iabinas and bitterly and !$l: M*F h? r so coolly and indiffer l^»«3H ared he t0 her face thafc ■TO^yyoung lady? What kind : f ,,,gn wag tbafc rf , why I^yfflT 1? rt air of Patronage, said IS'ifcW hwßeU ln her jealous l^L^P'PPer-snapper, who was not I^^ a single look of her beau-

Sabi!?,, fM- ht? e dlfficulty in pereuading Child™ >° c her Bervices in aid <* the him™ 8 Hospital; only she said to beenYH«fi knT' Ml" Foster ' fchafc charity lias been denned as A asking B to help C. SSTtime*" V Whab A is going t0 do 11 Who is A ?" " You,"

JJ How atn 1 A ?" Because you asked me to do certain things for certain other people. But what ar« 3'OU going to do yourself?" Well," said he solemnly, " if my little speculation on the Two Thousand comes off all nght you won't find mo behindhand. •No, no ; you'll have one good oustomer at all events. But what am Ito do with the flowers when I've got them ? I don't know anybody in this town hardly." What are you to do with them ? Give them back to me, and I will soil them over again," said Sabina, promptly. It did not Srfem to occur to him that he might present the flowers to Sabina herself; perhaps he thought she was too matter-of fact a young woman to care for such things. However, the date fixed for the bazaar was some way off yet; and in the meantime they had got into a long spell of fine weather ; and these two saw a good deal of each other, in the open air and the sun light. Their meeting of a morning jit the end of the Pier was almost an understood arrangement; and then in the golden after noons they would pass into the greensward closure of Regency .Square, or go round to the Pavilion Gardens, now becoming beauti ful with flowers and the clear-tinted young summer foliage. And not only had Sabina got her sailor's hat, but she appeared to be much more particular about her costume than' had been her wont in London ; she made herself very neat and trim ; and wore pretty things round her neck and at her wrists; and was most fastidious about the dressing of her hair. Mrs Wygram ven tured to make somo little comment; and the girl only looked surprised, and said she supposed that it was idleness that made her attentive to such trifles.

And very bright and cheerful and ani mated looked those Pavilion Gardens on the day set apart for the fe to ; the um brageous elm? shimmeringl in their freshest green; young maidens and children in summer costume strolling along the paths, or crossing the wide smooth lawn ; two regimental bands playing alternately ; long strings of coloured illuminations already hung up for the evening illumination ; the white tents around the enclosure busy with visitors. Sabina's stall was almost entirely given up to flowers ; and not only had she an abundant store of sprays and button holes and bouquets, but also she had large masses of wall-flowers, daffodils, marsh marigolds, and the like, on the chance of the Aldermen's wives and daughters under standing the art of decorating their dining rooms. The worthy ex-Mayor and his wife, on whose behalf Sabina had undertaken the function of saleswoman, were most assiduous in bringing her customers : and she was not over-exacting with her prices ; some people came back. Mrs Wygram lent a helping hand. Mr Foster was there, but made no undue profession of his ac quaintance ; whenever the tall, fair tlower girl was busy, he had his Bath-chair re moved away under the elm-trees, and re mained there, listoning to.the band.

And now occurred the incident which seemed to Mrs Wygram (but perhaps she was unjustly jealous, owing to Janie's re peated warnings) to be the turning-point in JJr Foster's attitude toward Sabina. Tnere came into the enclosure two young fellows who seemed to beknown to him; they went up and spoke to him and remained chatting. These were the lirsb of Mr Foster's friends that Sabina had seen ; and she was rather pleased to find that they were not of a horsey type. No : they were merely a couple of tall. lighi-haired,'healthy compfcxioned, -well-dressed Kngli^h lad.s, whom one might associate with plenty of boating and cricket, but hardly with the turf. And presently she had a butter oppor tunity of seeing what they were like, for Mr Foster brought them along to the stall. " MisaZeinbra," said ho, "f have brought you a couple of customers ; but don't bu too hard on them." Good-looking lads they were, she thought ; though the younger one was evi dently very shy. He scarcely lifted his eyes to the beautiful, gracious flower-girl; he selected the first little spray that came handy ; and paid for it ; and seemed rather triad to retire. The elder and taller of the two was not so timid ; he appeared to be a little fastidious in his choice ; and onco or twice he ventured to glance at her. " How much did you say this rose was ? he asked.

" Two shilling." " Oh, yes, I will take that, if you please. He put his finders in his waistcoat pocket, and took out a couple of coins. "I am afraid," he said, rather bashfully, " that you will find them rather discoloured; but I hope you won't mind." And with that he put down two sove rinfs on the board ; and said " Good morn ine•!" and raised his hat and went away. "I bef your pardon-stay a minute! Sabina instantly called to him. He turned and came back, looking some what confused. Sabina was not. She smiled towards him, and said :— "You know I cannot give you any money back -for they never allow that at bazaars—but I will give you another rose, if >oShe plfeked out a white rose and handed it to him ; her eyes were very gracious. "I'm sure it's awfully kind ot you, said he, blushing furiously ; and then he managed to stammer: "AmJ-an d, of course, it's this one I shall keep-I-I don t want the other one now. ''Here is a pin if you wish to wear it," said Sabina. "Mrs Wygram, will you 'IfoVmtb Wygram was outside the stall) '•Thank you, very, very much," said he : but it was to Sabina he said it, not to Mrs W#Lo3k here, Lionel," said Mr Foster, somewhat Sharply, ''we'd better clear out, Wffl ES&& -to,, r d Xmce C Wygram went round and in -8 a" What do you mean T the girl said, not « Oh, don t sayja. w ( , fa d , t , Stil} "f5 he°^ve me two fora understand he gave me hJg spend *^ <fj* boots, and ■" ? 6 jfiKTcU after the way y:/Sedt him!" Mrs Wygram pro tested. --tlmfei I thought it was "% WhiSgWemesomuch towards very kind of hl™ c° wanfced to be civil my stall; andl of: oour ; e l to«ns; vesP YOU were," Mrs Wygram " oh- yf« V/,,, were very civil, indeed retorted. ,Yfvr c aU civility. I think if that w what you^« > N ghe that is whab Ja"e she sa dit was only calls it klf neß! 0 7± p ed Borne wine out so that he might not be-i aCdld not think there was any harm," she said. . .

"I suppose you don't know that you have sent Mr Foster away very angry?" "Mr Foster !" said Sabina, with her eyes wide—as if she wanted to know what Mr Foster had to do with her.

" But it's true ; and if lam not mistaken, you won't iind him back here again to day I"

Mrs Wygram was not mistaken. Mr Foster put in no further appearance. And it was not until the evening, when they were in the quietude of their own rooms, that Mrs Wygram said :— " Well, now, Sabie, I will tell you the truth. I really don't think you know how precty your eyes are, and you do mischief \vithout_intending it. You need not look at men in so irank a way ; you should be a little more self-conscious and watchful. w^y. you fairly blinded that young fellow this morning !" "A schoolboy !" said Sabina, but with her cheeks reddening a little. "I wonder you could think of such a thing !" " Sabie, why will you go on persuading yourself that you are an old woman ?" the other exclaimed. " It's all those hospitals ! You've been so accustomed to take charge of people—to be good to them, and humour them, and be a kind of mother to them— that you forget you are a young woman, with remarkably beautiful eyes. And some day or another you will break a man's heart —that will bo the end."

," Oh, you need not talk such nonsense," said Sabina, proudly. Now, if Mr Foster went away from the Pavilion Gardens in anger, ho showed no trace of anything of the kind when they met as usual on the Pier next morning. And it was from that morning that Mrs Wygram (in her subsequent conversations with Janie) professed to date the change in his manner towards Sabina. lie no longer treated her with friendly indifference, varied now and again with a little jocose raillery ; he seemed more anxious to pleaso her, and to win her favour. Those two Lionel lads happened to come down the Pier that morn ing ; and of course they stopped to speak to him, and they raised their hats to Sabina, who was standing by, and who graciously acknowledged the salutation. In the ordi nary course of affairs, Mr Foster might fairly have introduced them by name to Miss Zcmbra—afrer their kindness of the day before ; but he did nothing of the sort; and they had perforce to go on, rather linger ingly, as Mrs Wygram imagined. That afternoon Mr Foster sent Sabina some flowers. The next morning he told her he had taken a box at the theatre for that same evening; and that it would be very, very kind of her if she and Mrs Wygram would come and keep him company. "But a Bath-chair—in a theatre?" she said. " Oh, George and I will manage," he said, confidently. "If you come along in the evening, you will find me already in the box—box G it is : 1 should bo very grateful to you if you woidd."

And it seemed to her that it would be unfriendly to refuse ; here he was in a strange town, with hardly any society ; and he was bearing his banishment so heroically. And so she and Mrs Wygram went; and found him carefully ensconced in a large box commanding an easy view of the stage ; and thero was a little bouquet lying in readiness for each of the ladies. The piece was a merry one, played by an excollent London company ; and Sabina had nob been in a theatre for many a cloy ; and she had the natural and ! healthy laughter of a school-girl. He had I tea and coffee brought to them between the Jacts; in short, ho paid them every atten ! tion that was possible; and when they j finally got home, even Mrs Wygram had to I confess, nob only that they had spent a j most charming evening, but that Mr Foster, when he chose, could make himself very pleasant and agreeable.

Whether Mrs Wygram entirely relished the change from Mr Foster's hnlf super cilious indifference to his mood of eager and respectful amiability, may perhaps bo ques tioned ;v but at all events it afforded her plenty of material for study and conjecture. One of its chief features was an almost con tinual wish on his part to bo justifying himself and his ways of life in Sabina's eyes. Hitherto he seemed to care nothing for her opinion ; he had even jocularly told her one or two foolish love affairs. But now ho wished to stand well with her, and would mako excuses for himself and his pursuits, and would even recall thingashe had said on former occasions that he might urge some plea of defence. " No, I am no great reader," he said, one morning, apropos of nothing at all. "It's men and women who interest me most " " Next to horses ?" Sabina suggested with

a smile. " Now, that isn't fair, Miss Zcmbra ; but you're always hard on mo of late, I don't know why. And I was going to tell you about my reading : if I were compelled to have only two books, I would choose Chaucer and Shakspere, and that is again just be cause they show me men and women. I don't like conundrums in literature, or wire drawing, or fog ; life isn't long enough to be spent in finding things out—just because the fellow won't speak plain. And, then, after all, real men and women arc just as interesting to mo as those I find in books. When I am going about the streets _ hero I find continual amusement and surprise and occupation." , "I am very glad of that, Sabina said, in an undertone, so as not to interrupt

him. , . " Out at the end or the Chain Tier is a splendid place," he continued. "Some times Igo there when I have missed you here ; and you see a good deal of human nature about. Sometimes very pretty, too. Why. is there anything prettier than to see a young girl—l mean one of those spindle-shanked creatures of twelve or thirteen, with a straw hat and long hair, and big, clear eyes—is there anything prettier than to see her pet an old lady—an old lady as ugly as the mischief, most likely, fluffy black clothes, and glass bugles in her bonnet ; yes, and tease her too, and then put her arm round her and coax her into good humour again ? Or you 11 see a purple-faced old sportsman—a real Fun iaub jungle-cock-devilled kidneys for breakfast sort of fellow-kind of chap would send blue thunder through his club if his chop were underdone, or overdone, or late by thirty seconds-you 11 see him come walking out with a sickly-white girl ma long couch, and he'll hold the sunshade over her, or read the newspapers to her and be just like a nurse to her Then the lads and boys-and sometimes old men-** the fishing. Well, I like to see them at it they've the true instinct, and they're very earnest about it, though I never see them get anything but a wretched little flounder or an eel. Spooners are not very interesb m"T beg youv pardon ?" said she, inno-

° " Lovers, I should say. Well, they're not very interesting; they look so foolish "hen you chance on them. Besides, it Xfalr; they should be let alone But I'll tell you what is very funny; to.go round the churches of a Sunday morning afte service has begun; and you generally find outside one or two officials-sometimes a man, sometimes a woman-and they have thTmost curiously indifferent an- on their fac e r They look at.the sky, they look down the street; they seem to say, Well, we've done our part of the business ; we've chut him up with his audience ; he has got togeSroSgh theresb of the performance D 0» But a church is not a theatre," Sabina them," he said; and, then, frarinz to have got on dangerous ground, ne pofnted out to her that these Sunday morning perambulations were almost a necessity in his case, as he did not like going inside in bis Bath-chair. . And so this continual association and in timacy went on ; and Sabina was very kind

to him (as she was to everyone, Janie would have said); and there was distinctly no in difference on his part. One afternoon he was in having tea with them. " I have a little surprise for you," he said to Sabina. "Indeed?" "My father and mother are coming to London next week, and purpose running down here for a day or two. I hope you will let me introduce them to you ; they would be so very much pleased." Of course, she said it was she who would be pleased ; but Mrs Wygram was struck with a sudden dismay. " Do you know what he is doing now?" she instantly wrote off to Janie. "He is bringing his father and mother from Buckinghamshire that Sabie may be intro duced to them as his future wife. I am sure of it; lam sure that is what he means. Well, I have held my tongue all this while, but I cannot do so any longer ; I must tell the girl what she is bringing on herself. Yes, this very night I will. But I wish you were here, Janie. lam not very strong just now ; and I am all of a tremble when I think of it. Still, what would one not do for Sabie ? And I know she is too kind hearted to take it amiss." CHAPTER XIL FLIGHT. But it was a long time before the little woman could screw up her courage ; and even at the last moment she fairly jibbed and bolted. Late that night Sabina was in her own room, and leisurely getting ready for bed ; she woro a dressing gown of pale blue and white; and the heavy masses of her golden-brown hair fell loose-flowing and free over her shoulders and down to and below her waist.

" Dear Sabie," said Mrs Wygram (though this was not in the least what she wanted to say): " I would give a hundred pounds if I had it that Walter Lindsay could see you as you are now." " Mrs Wygram !" Sabina exclaimed— but there was not much of ferocity in her virgin pride. " It would be something for an arfcisfc to dream of all his life long," Mrs Wygram continued, recklessly. "Do you know, Sabie, you aro the only woman I have ever seen who reminds me of Rossettrs ' Blessed Damozel.' You remember? — 'Her hair that lay along her back, Was yellow like ripe corn.'" " I thought my hair was brown," Sabina said, quietly. " However, it is nob much consequence. I have no wish to become an artist's model. Besides, you forget that Mr Lindsay is a landscape painter." " But surely you know how wonderful ho is in catching likenesses !" the other said. " Why, tho portraits he did of Mrs Seeloy's boys were quite marvellous. Oh, yes ; there's no reason in the world why he should not do a figuro subject. And I know ho was thinking of it. Yes, I know ; for I have the scrap of paper ho gave Janio,

with the quotation for the picture. I be lieve I have ib now." Sho pulled out her purse, and eventually found tho little bit of writing. Sabina read the lines aloud :— " Sco whero sho sits upon the grassy green (0 seemly sight!) V clad in scarlet, like a maiden queen, And ermines white; Upon her head a crimson coronet, With damask roses and daffodillies set." "Yes, it sounds picturesque," Sabina said, in her placid way. "And whom is he going to paint like that ?" " You. ' " Dear Mrs Wygram, are you out of your mind ?" "But it's true. He wanted to know whether you would sit to him. Oh, he was so anxious about it; but quite afraid to ask you. Yes ; and he said if only Janie could induce you to sib to him, he would do a pencil drawing of you, and give it to Janie and me, as a kind of bribe,' 1 suppose." _ " I wonder, now," said Sabina, laughing, " how many portraits of me would you like to have in Kensington Square." " Don't you think we shall be glad to have them, Sabie, when you are no longer there yourself '!" And behold ! here was her chance, come quite unexpectedly ; and she was bound to face it. Hardly aware of what she was doing, she put her trembling fingers on the girl a arm ; and piteous indeed was her | tone. . "Dearest Sabie, don'b be angry! .No, you won't be angry—but I must speak to you—l can't stand by and not say a word - you know I love you, and I am sure we shall always be friends " > "Now, what is this all about?" Sabina said, gently, for she could see how agitated the little woman was. " Don't you know, then, why Mr Foster has sent for his father and mother to come to Brighton ? Can't you guess ? Sabie, it is to introduce you to them as their future daughter-in-law ?" For the briefest moment the girl seemed to draw herself up to her full height; and there was a proud look about her lips. But that instantly disappeared. She put her hand on the trembling hand of her com panion, and patted it affectionately. " My dear friend," she said, with a smile, "I see I must pub you back on your quinine, and insist on the port wine at lunch. Your nerves are all wrong—why you are fluttering at this moment like a caught rabbit—and you let all kinds of ridiculous fancies get into your brain."

" *They are nofc ridiculous fancies, Sabie ! Why will you be so blind ? But it all comes from the same thing : you will, go on imagining yourself to bo an elderly woman wnose business is to pet people and take care of them —whereas the truth is that you are a very dangerously attractive young woman; and I tell you thab men don't understand a young woman looking at them in that frank way. In the case of a young married woman it might be different " There again !" said Sabina, with an air of resignation, "you have told me all that before, dear Mrs Wygram; and I don't forget that you accused me of flirtation merely'because I gave that pretty, yellow haired boy a rose—in exchange for two sovereigns." . , , "Yes; and if that young man is heart whole at this moment I am very much mistaken/ Mrs Wygram retorted. " Why,

don't you see how he is always hanging about, just for the chance of saying a word to Mr Foster, and so being allowed to raise his hat to you ?" " Poor, innocent, young thing !" "Sabie, if you choose to act like a flirt, don't talk like one !" said Mrs Wygram, sharply. Sabina looked at her. "No," she said, "you can't make me quarrel with you—l won't do it. For I know you are out of sorts ; and I know you mean to be kind : so I can only say that you are quite mistaken. Why, the idea ! Air Foster and I have been excellent friends simply because I know that no nonsense of that kind would ever enter his head."

"But hasn't ifc? I am very much mis taken if it has not," Mrs Wygi-am persisted. " Sabie, you don't know what an amount of encouragement you have given him. And encouragement from you ! I tell you you don't know your own value. Why should you defer to his opinions—you who have a hundred times as much brains as he has ? And why should a beautiful young woman like you wear things that you think will please him I —oh, but you do, whether you are conscious of it or not. And why should you be interested in stories of race courses and regattas and cricket; and be entertained with accounts of what happened to him when he was a schoolboy—as if his life, and every moment of it, had been of the utmost value V

"Poor Jlr Foster !" Sabina interposed. " There's no one to say a good word for him. If it's in London, it's Janio who keeps say ing bitter things about him; and if it's in Brighton, it's you. What has he done to de serve it all—except to bo unfortunate '! And they used always to say that women had some sympathy for people who were un fortunate ; but that was in the old days I suppose.'' "You can't deceive me, Sabie, though you may be able to deceive yourself."

" Can't I ? Well, at all events, I can put you to bed ; and that's what I am going to do now ; for I won't have any of my patients sitting up and talking past midnight." However, this warning and appeal were not without a certain effect; for naturally a young woman feels somewhat alarmed when she is told that her manner of regard ing men is a trifle too audacious. Sabina brazened it out before Mrs Wygram ; but inwardly she was resolved to be a good deal more circumspect. And sho wanted to know what it was in Mr Foster's relation with her that had promoted these wild surmises.

Accordingly, next clay, she kept her eyes observant. And what could she see ex cept that he was rather moro respectful towards her than he used to be ? He did not laugh at her now ; nor teaso her : nor hint that she was being imposed upon by the poor people she befriended. No ; he was rather sympathetic in that direction ; only he said he did not like the idea of her going about alone —or with such an insuffi cent protector as Janie. Indeed, he chose to insist upon this point; though of course, it was not for a cripple in a bath-chair to

offer to become her guard and champion and ally. She observed, also, that the stories he told her—and he had always an abundant stock of them, chiefly in connection with the history of the turf —were for the most part not humorous or sarcastic, as formerly, but rather tragic and romantic ; and that he seemed to have a warm admiration for Miss Dorothy Vernon and her gay enter prise. On the other hand, how could she suspect him of talking with a purpose when such an incident as the following occurred ? They were on the Chain Pier together. He was relating to her the sad history of the fourth Marquis of Hastings, and the reck less struggles of that luckless lad to retrieve his fortunes. Suddenly there was a con siderable commotion among the few idlers on the pier; one of the anglers had hooked a large bass ; you could see the fish in the clear green water below — tugging, and plunging, and shooting this way and that; and there was a frantic calling for the land ing net. From that instant the Marquis of Hastings, and Miss Dorothy Vernon, and Miss Sabina Zembra were alike forgotten. He took no more notice of his companion. And when, at last, amid the general rejoicing the big fish had been hoisted up in the landing net, and carried off to the weigh ing machine, and found to scale just over eight pounds, and when the prevailing ex: citement had quieted down, Sabina had gently to remind him that he had broken off in the midst of a 3tory, and then he could nob in the least •recollect at what point. Sabina said to herself that it was impossible she could wholly engross his at tention when she was so easily dispossessed by an eight-pound fish. " Sabie," said Mrs Wygram that evening, " do you know that you behaved yourself a little better to-day ?" " I am glad you approve," Sabina an swered. " But it is none the pleasanter to have to be continually on the watch with one's friends."

" Friendship between a young man and a pretty girl," observed Mrs Wygram senten tiously, " is all very well in ibs way, but it wants to have its limits pretty clearly de fined. And I think he understands now. He noticed the change in your manner—l could see that he did. And perhaps he is beginning to think that he was a little premature in sending for his father and mother." " What nonsense you talk !" said Sabina bluntly. " I tell you the coming of his father and mother to Brighton has no more to do with me than with the man in the moon." "We will see." " If I thought such folly were possible, I would co up to London this very evening, and send Janie down in my stead. I'm afraid I shali have to do that very soon in any case." " But, Sabie, I shall have to go back home too."

"You ? Nofc you ? You won't be allowed to come home until you are ever so much stronger. Janie will take my place here." " And what will Mr Foster do when you are gone, Sabie ?"

Sabina was too proud to reply. But this placid and equable and eventless lifo was far too pleasant to last. Mr Fred Foster's father and mother arrived in due course, and were installed in the rooms he had provided for them : and the same after noon he brought, them along to call on Mrs

Wygram and Sabina. He seemed a little anxious and nervous. • But if he was at all concerned about the impressions likely to be produced on the old lady by the young girl, or vice versa, he must have been speedily re-assured. At the very nrst glance—while as yet, this tall, thin elegant looking woman, with the short white curls, and apple-tinted cheeks, and soft grey eyes, had hardly entered the room— Sabina had formed a liking for her : and that was only confirmed by the singular air of refinement and graciousness of manner that seemed to surround her as she came forward. And on her side 1 She took the girl's hand in hers, and held it; ap parently she was unable to utter a word : bub as she read all that the clear, beautiful face had to say to her, her eyes quickly filled with tears. Sabina wasfrightened, she scarcely knew why; she managed to say a few commonplace words of welcome ; and then she turned to give a similar greeting to the old gentleman. As for him, he con sidered the whole proceeding a bore. As soon as he decently could he withdrew from the lofc of them ; and went to the window, and stared out there, with his hands be hind him, over the tails of his highly re speeta'ble black frock coat. Bub the old lady was sitting next Sabina ; and had drawn her chair very close ; and she seemed unable to keep her eyes—which were kind and effectionate eyes—away from tho girl. And she said that she know her quite well already, so much had Fred written home about her ; and how was she to thank Miss Zembra for all her goodness to him when he was shut up a prisoner in Lancaster Gate ?—and how fortunate it was for him to have so much of her companion ship during: his stay at the seaside. There was a great deal to talk about; but all through ifc the old lady's glances were gently scrutinising the various points of the eirl's appearance, and her costume too —the beautiful lines of the neck and shoulders, her hair, the trimness of her cuffs, the neatness of her brooch and collar, the slender, tapering, but large hand, the gracious arch of the eyebrow-and the fnoro that old Mrs Foster looked, the more and more did pleasure sit beaming upon her own face. Once or twice she, touched Sabina's arm; and her finger's seemed to linger there. She followed W every word cagerlv; she laughed wh en there was the least occasion ; delight and tenderness shone in the soft grey eyes. The old gentleman came back from the window, and rather brusquely remarked that it was a pity to waste so fine an aifcer nooii within doors, as he had never seen Brighton, and there seemed to be plenty to see His wife rose reluctantly. And now she held Sabina by both hands : and seemed loth to leave her. " Good-bye, dear/ she said; and still she held her hands a little ; and, then, with an impulse of affection, she kissed the girl —kissed her on both cheeks —and said good-bye again, and went away. When they had gone, Sabina walked once or twice up and down the room, in a curiously agitated manner ; and then came back. „ i . T "MrsWygram, tell me—tell me what I have said or done—oh, you may say any harm of me you like!—but have I done or said anything wrong ?—what do they MrsWygram was nofr.oneto seek a chescp triumph. "I think it is quiteeclear they came to Brighton to make your acquaintance, Sabie," she said, gentljr. " Yes, but why ? Why did she kiss me like that ?—a stranger ! Why did she talk about their home in Buckinghamshire, as: if she expected me to be there at any time ?" And then Sabina's cheeks reddened angrily. " What has Mr Foster beeo saying about me to them? What right has he to speak; about me ? If I have done anything —if I have done anything I should not have dona _l__:r will apologise—but they have no right they have no righifc — -to speak aboutf; me." . ... And here she burst out? crying, which was an unusual thing for her todo ; and of course the next moment Mrs Wygram's arms were round the girl's neck, and she was being soothed and pacified with all kinds of endearing phrases. " Sabie, darling, be sure he said nothing about you but what was perfectly kind— pei haps too kind. And if there has been any mistake it can easily be put right. Per haps the mistake is ours—l hope it is. . You see, you do make people affectionate to wards you. Perhaps she did not mean anything." " Any way," Sabina said, quickly, " I am going up to London to-night." "You cannot do that !" her friend said instantly. " Why, it would be a confession ! It would lock as if you were ashamed, and had run away !" And then the little woman's courage rose. " And what has my beautiful Sabia to be ashamed of ? I say— nothing ! Haven't I been with you all the time ? Let them come to me if they like— but you are not going to run away for any body." All doubts, however, as to the meaning of the old people's visit to Brighton, were set at rest next morning. Mrs Foster called about eleven, and asked to be allowed to see Sabina alone. Mis Wygram went upstairs. And very gently, and skilfully, and affectionately did this ambassador disclose her mission. Her " poor boy," as she called, him, had something of great im portance to say to Sabina, but in his pre sent crippled state he had never a chance of seeing her by herself, and would she take it amiss if he had asked his mother to come and plead for him. "And for myself, dear," said this soft voiced diplomatist. "If you knew how proud I should be to call you my daughter!" Sabina had grown very white. " Dear child, are you ill ?" the«other ex claimed, "shall I get you some water ?" " No, no, no," the girl said ; and she was striving to be quite calm. "I am very, very sorry, but there has been some mis take. I feared it. After you came yester day I asked Mrs Wygrram. if I. had done anything " " It's nofc what you have done, it's what you are," the old lady said, and she took the girl's hand. " You are pretty and are good ; can you wonder at the rest ?" Sabina withdrew her hand. " I see you are afraid of me," Mrs Foster said, smiling. "Perhaps it was foolish of the boy to send me here to do his wooing for him. You think I should make a harsh mother-in-law to you." " I am sure you will be very kind to whoever your son marries," Sabina managed to say, and with truth she said ib.

" Then may I tell him that when he can come and speak for himself there will be some hope for him ? I think he would be satisfied even with that."

" Oh, no, no, no; say any thing but that!" Sabina said, but she seemed scarcely to understand the meaning of her words. "No, no, that is impossible. It was not that I was thinking of. Tell him lam so sorry for this dreadful mistake. I hope I was not—too—thoughtless; but, yes, I suppose that was it % and now what can I do ? lam very, very sorry—-tell him I hope he will forgive me "

" I see, I distress you," the old lady said, and she rose from her chair. •• But re member you have only refused me, you have not refused him. Perhaps it was my rude way of asking, and he may be more suc cessful, and no one, no one would be happier than I, should that time ever come, my dear."

She kissed her again before she left.

" Remember that, my dear, I shall be a proud woman if ever I have to call you my daughter."

Sabina went hurriedly to Mrs Wygram. She was very pale, but apparently quite business-like and collected. i( What you said baa com? true, I $nj

going up to London, and I will send Jani| down to-night. Ictould not bear to meet. th^Buf Sabie," H* Wygram protested^ for she could guess what underlay this! orced quietude of matmer, « you are gain* away with a quite exaggerated notion of. what has happened !" _ . ,J «I am not. Well, perhaps I don b understand yet all that has happened. Bui, I wish I had taken your warning earlier. Sabina arrived in Kensington Square between three and four, and bade Janie pack up and get away to Brighton as, quickly as possible. But samethingm her ■ look, and perhaps also in ber coming to; town so unexpectedly, awoka James sus- ; PI» What is the matter ? Sabie—Sabie, you! have not promised to marVy Mr Foster ? : There was a cry of appeal m her voice. . , "I have refused him," was' Sabinas; answer. ' < And I have covered myself with ■ shame. But I hardly understand all thabj has happened, and - and—don't ask me any more, Janie." Janie's preparations for her departure ,• were necessarily hurried, but still she I could fthink of her friend. Now Walter, Lindsay, not content with sending Sabina a sketch from the Shannon, had also painted] a small replica of the landscape she had iad;»( mired in his studie, and in her absence bf>r% forwarded it to Kensington Square. ss, was now lying in the parlour. Amuv a w her hurry Janie found time to go a* a( j g e fcj hold of thai little picture, and ca rry it): swiftly and stealthily up to Sabi^a's rO om, ■ where she placed it in a promir en t position, on the mantel shelf. It wou\d h e the first thing that Sabina must see Vhen she opened; the door.

(To be. Continued.)

The Queen's Jubilee Presents.

Avx exhibition of unusual interest was re cently opened to the public in the State apcrtmejits of St. James's Palace, London. The exhibition consists of the whole of the numerous and -valuable presents made to the Queen by the members of her family*! foreign potentates, and loyal subjects on the occasion of her Jubilee. The collection^ which includes some 300 objects, fills five' large rooms in St. James's Palace, the en-' trance being from the Color Court, facing St. James's-street. Admission is only! granted on personal application, between! the hours of 10 and 4, until 29th October,' and from ten until eight, after that date,i and no party of visitors must exceed! six in number. Ascending the stair-; case for the departure of those attend-; ing levees, the first exhibits are found; in the two ■ corridor ante-rooms, where! several of the largest presentations are' placed, notably a magnificent pair of! elephant's tusks, mounted as flower vases' on a rosewood stand, together with a hand-! seme wreathed cupola supported on pillars,' t'ne gift of His Highness the Maharajah of Travancore. Passing on to the Queen Anne's room, the entire apartment is found' to be filled with objets dart. Among other: notable objects are a number of exquisitely; finished pieces of plate, the gifts of various potentates. There is a silver vase and case, the gift of the King and Queen of the Belgians; a vase from the King of Denmark, ■ an exquisite plateau from the Prince of! Waldeck-Pyront, a pair of flagons from: the members of the Cumberland family,! and 13 silver dishes, the gift of Her Majesty's household. The Presence Cham- i ber contains several articles of excessive' value, notably a silver jardiniere in bowl j shape and of great size from Lord Roths- i child, and a gold casket made from 30oz. ofj gold nuggets, the tribute of the Governor1 of the Gold, Coast Colony. The Throne! Room is full of illuminated addresses,: albums, portraits, testimonials of loyalty, and literature published in memory of the j Queen's Jubilee, and these will alone repay' a more than casual inspection, representa-' tive, as there are, of every species of; illuminating, engraving, and caligraphy.; But still more remarkable than even these [ are the contents of the upper corridor, de voted chiefly to the women's Jubilee offer-1 ings of England and Ireland. The English-; women's^ Jubilee offering is being dis played in 36 wooden chests, contain ing cards bearing the signatures of contributors. These chests contain no fewer than 3,000,000 names, and supply a memorable memento of the Jubilee of a good queen. The women of Ireland are represented by a carved bog oak chest,; together with an illuminated address, con taining the signatures of upwards ofi 150,000 loyal women and girlß of the sister! isle. Among other remarkable objects arej a very gorgeous silver-gilt plateau, the gift; of the children and grandchildren of the' Queen, the whole having been designed by the Crown Princess of Germany; an oilj painting, representing the Laguna of Chioegia, near Venice, the gift of the Princa and Princess of Wales ; a large marble bas-! relief of their Imperial Highnes the! Emperor and Empress of Germany, and; a magnificent necklace composed of a goldj chain, from which are suspended 15; ornaments composed of lotus flowers; and scarabees, from the Khedive of Egypt.! But perhaps the most curious object in thei entire collection is the gift of the Queen of, the Sandwich Islands, consisting of the; Royal monogram formed of red feathers and; encircled by a wreath of Royal Hawaiian: yellow and green feathers from the 000, a' royal bird, the same as are used for tl>e sovereign's cloak in Hawaii. The bird? aye: black, and have only one feather each, so that several thousand birds are required to contribute to this high work of art. The: entire exhibition is full of the highest in terest, and will well repay a visit. It may be added that during the first 10 days ; nearly 70,000 persons visited the exhibi-, tion.

Death of Sir George Macfarren.

Sir George Macfarren, the eminent com poser and Principal of the Royal Academy of Music, died suddenly last month, at the age of 74. He was born and educated in London. From an early age he laboured with an impaired eyesight, which soon ter minated in total blindness. But nature in his case, as in those of Handel and of Bach, made up for the loss of one sense by the increased efficiency of another.': His acuteness of hearing was remark-: able. In 1834 he was appointed Pro fessor of the Academy, and in the same year produced his symphony in P. minor at the Society of British Musicians. It was followed in 1836 by the Overture "Chevy Chase," one of his most spirited compositions, and two years later by & dramatic work entitled "The Devil's Opera" (libretto by his father), produced an the Lyceum Theatre with much success. In subsequent years he produced several other operas, but none of them has per manently kept the stage. It was in oratorio that he did his best and most permanent work. His best work, "St John the Baptist," was produced at the Bristol Fes tival, October, 1873; the "Resurrec tion," at the Birmington Festival in; 1876 ; " Joseph," at the Leeds Festival in 1877; and "King David," at the Leeds Festival in 1883. He also produced church; services, anthems, and a vast number o£ part songs, ballads, and other vocal com positions. In 1875 he succeeded Sterndala Bennett as Professor of Music at Cam bridge. In April, 1876, his University con ferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Music, and in the same year he was appointed Principal of the Royal Academy of Music. He received the honour of knighthood along with Sir George Grove and Sic Arthur Sullivan in 1883.



