Tulips. These bulbs are now in full bloom, and require to be carefully shaded during the heat of the day in order to preserve the colours. The grower should carefully observe and mark such of them as deserve notice, in order to regulate their future arrangement in the beds, and the separation of the several sorts. The seed-vessels should be broken off as soon as the petals fall, and the beds kept free from weeds. Hyacinths, where done blowing, may be taken up; this should be done carefully, and when space is not particularly wanted-not before the leaves decay: this direction applies to all bulbous roots; and in every case the flower-stalk should be cut off as soon as the bloom is past, in order to save the energies of the roots from wasting. Pinks. As these plants approach the time of blooming, a great deal of attention is required. Manure water should be given twice a week. Keep the beds neat and clean, and the soil well moistened. Wall-flowers. During this month cuttings should be made of the different varieties of this plant, and placed under glasses in sandy loam. Geraniums. Such as are in flower should be shaded from the sun; and, to lengthen the period of their blooming, cut the stamens out of every flower as it opens. They should be watered regularly and copiously, and guarded from bees, who, in order to reach the nectar in the flower tube, will cut a hole through the unexpanded petals. Heaths.-Like the azaleas, these plants require to ANSWERS be thoroughly and abundantly watered. Any symtoms of the roots getting dry, from the water not penetrating the ball of earth, must be watched and attended to, or the plant is lost. Heaths require a free circulation of air, and shading in hot sunshine. As soon as the young shoots are long, and firm enough for cuttings, propagate from the points. Annuals.-Continue to sow, thin, and plant out Mimulus, Lobelias, Mignonette, and other annuals. Shift them where required; water freely, and stake and tie those that are sufficiently advanced to need it. The German seed lists, this season, boast yellow stocks, a scarlet salpaglosis, and blue balsam. Herbaceous Plants.-Many of these will now afford slips or cuttings for propagation, such as Rocket, Phloxes, Heartsease, Alyssum sextile, &c., Pansies root best in the shade, but are better not and make excellent plants by the end of summer. covered with glass; a thin mat to screen them from the wind answers much better. Insects. These destroyers in garden and greenhouse must be carefully looked after and dislodged. by smoking. To do this effectually, a stake, taller The green-fly on window plants may be got rid of than the plant, should be placed in the pot, and a cloth covered over all, under which the smoke should be driven in, or tobacco lighted under it round the There are also two or three very minute snails, pot. Wood-lice and cockroaches are sad devastators. which, together with the common snails and slugs, require to be constantly sought for. CORRESPONDENTS. TO NOTICE TO CONTRIBUTORS. The Editor begs it to be understood, that she can in no case undertake to return rejected MSS., or forward parts of the Magazine, unless sufficient stamps are sent to cover the expense of postage, &c. Correspondents are requested to keep copies of all short articles. All communications requiring private answers must contain a stamped envelope and address. All Publications, &c., intended for review, be sent in before the 20th of the month. must M. T., Slough.-We never purchase poetry, and are at present too overstocked with translations to require M. T.'s assistance. The MS. is returned to the publishers, and will be forwarded on the receipt of postage-stamps to cover the amount of postage. We Received and Accepted:-"The Crafty Man; "The Huguenot Lover;" "Go on, go on." shall be glad to hear again from M. S. R. "Colinton Manse."-Miss B. is informed that the fault rests with her bookseller, as "The Ladies' Companion" is always published on the 1st of the month. E. F. This correspondent, if anxious to join the chorus of the singing muse, must be more careful : the rhythm of her verse is imperfect. "The Story of a Neglected Child."-In consehave patience with us a little longer. quence of a want of space, our contributor must Printed by Rogerson and Tuxford, 246, Strand, London. CHAP. XX. BY MISS PARDO E. (Concluded from page 252.) THE LIGHT EXTINGUISHED. Having formed this doughty resolution, Octavius turned into Hertford-street, entered his uncle's house, deposited his coat in the hall, and was conducted by the solemn butler to the sleeping apartment of Mr. Lyle. As on a former occasion, he was the last to obey the summons of his aged relative; but today he was no laggard at a festival; and a painful feeling oppressed his heart, as, stepping across the threshold of the apartment, he glanced rapidly around him. Stretched upon a sumptuous bed, heavy with silken fringes and gilding, and supported by pillows, lay the sick man, strangely and painfully changed. It was not so much that disease had withered him, as that a settled gloom, totally at variance with his former keen and somewhat haughty expression, had darkened over his countenance. A table stood in the centre of the room, about which were grouped all the remainder of the party, with the exception of Miss Penelope, who occupied a chair beside the bed, holding one of the invalid's hands in her's. Mr. Brunton and Trevor, who was placed near him, had writing materials within reach, and were occupied in examining some papers, upon which they occasionally made notes; Mr. Percival and his cousin Lancaster were seated side by side; and near Mr. Ravensdale stood an empty chair, to which, after Octavius had in visible emotion grasped the hand which his uncle extended to him on his entrance, the lawyer silently motioned him. The party was complete. "We may now, I believe, proceed to business, Mr. Lyle;" said Brunton, in an accent which, despite all his habitual self-command, still betrayed a most unprofessional deficiency of firmness; "that is, if you really feel equal to the exertion." The sick man glanced towards the watchful Miss Penelope, and the glance sufficed to explain his meaning. A cordial draught stood, ready prepared, near the bed, which she instantly handed to him, and then resumed her seat. Poor Miss Pen! No pagoda of muslin now gave dignity to her grey hairs; no rustling damask, or coffee-coloured point lent amptitude to her stiff and angular figure. She had obeyed the summons to the death-room without one thought of self. All that she felt, all that she remembered, was the fact that the sufferer was her brother and her benefactor; lost too soon, and regained too late, perhaps, for any strong affection to exist between them; but still her brother and her benefactor, to whom she was bound alike by the ties of kindred and of gratitude. Careless of the conventionalities of society, heedless of the impression which her appearance might produce upon those about her, she had, on her entrance into the sick chamber, with all a woman's instinctive forethought, flung off her cloak and bonnet, in order the more readily to afford help to the invalid, should such help be needed; and it was evident that the object of her solicitude had appreciated her self-forgetfulness; as she had no sooner done so than he embraced her with undisguised affection, and bade her take her place beside him. When Octavius entered, the large tears were slowly coursing down her cheeks, but her grief was subdued and still; that placid and governed grief which is so affecting in the aged; paining the heart, but not quickening the pulses; striking deeply, though invisibly, like "the arrow that flieth by night;" severing another link between the world that is and the world that is to be; and rebuking by its silent dignity the less controlled demonstrations of earlier years. Happy are those who have never recklessly called tears to the eyes of the aged. They know not how heavily they fall back upon the heart of the offender. A silent bow was the only salutation which had passed between Octavius and the other individuals of the party; but he was conscious, although he carefully avoided meeting his gaze, that the eyes of Mr. Ravensdale were rivetted upon him. Nothing could be more simple; Mr. Ravensdale was aware that Octavius was the favoured suitor of his daughter: they had never met before; and despite all his selfishness, the merchant could not find himself for the first Y most earnestly desire-any one of you can, and time beside the man who had won her affections, | fellow-creatures; but if-as I confess that I and who might one day become his son-in-law, without experiencing some curiosity; but nevertheless, that fixed and scrutinizing gaze was painful to the young man, and moved him strangely, He could not know, he did not even suspect, that his presence had brought a gleam of sunshine with it into that gloomy room; that, as he sat in the midst of that group of world-worn men, his noble brow, yet unmarred by a single line, his glorious eyes flashing from beneath their long dark lashes, and his luxuriant hair waving in dense masses about his forehead and cheeks, presented a picture which could not be looked upon without inspiring confidence, and inviting regard in all whose minds were free from more sordid and engrossing thoughts. The draught which Miss Penelope had administered visibly invigorated the sick man, who with the assistance of his sister, raised himself still higher upon his pillows, and then glanced slowly and sadly over the assembled group. me. Once more there was a brief silence; but now, although every voice was mute, the deep breathing of many anxious hearts was audible amid the stillness of the sick-room. To one at least of the assistants the pause was as that between life and death. Percival Lyle, the ruined trader; the almost bankrupt-merchant: the man of schemes and subtleties, schemes which had failed, and subtleties which had worked out their own ruin; what was that pause to him? Opulence on the one hand; disgrace and dishonour on the other. For him there was a long life of hope and fear, of doubt and confidence, crushed into those few fateful seconds. The next half-hour might see him high in the world's esteem, and yet higher in his own; or wrecked beyond redemption, alike in credit and in character, with no refuge but flight, no home but a distant and disreputable exile. "I trust," he began in a faltering voice, which gradually gained more strength as he proceeded; "that I have humbly and earnestly striven to make my own peace where it can never again be troubled; but this is not enough. So long as man is permitted to remain on earth, so long he has duties to perform; and I dare Yet none, he mentally argued, as yet knew not fail in that which has been allotted to myself. or even guessed that such was indeed the case: I have still, and I am deeply grateful for it, both he had played for a high stake, and like a wellthe time and the means to do justice; and now trained gamester, he had played cautiously. let me implore of you who listen to me-of each Why should he fear? Reginald Lyle had even and all of you-to be frank and truthful with now declared-now, when he was aware that it You all know my besetting weakness-let must soon pass from him for ever-that he me rather call it, as I ought to do, my besetting loved the gold that he had gained; and if his SIN. I have toiled for wealth throughout a own-so rapidly reasoned the subtle casuistlong life; first, indeed, only as a means, and then he must also love that of other men; and would my labour was legitimate and praiseworthy; but necessarily bestow his cherished hoards where subsequently, I grieve to say, as an end. So they might mingle with the hoards of the equally long as I sought for gold as the medium of re- prosperous. The idea was one which inspired spectability and comfort, it was my slave; but him with confidence: and he looked round him when I began to love it for its own sake, it be- with a steady eye. Neither Mrs. Stainton nor her came my master; it holds me in its fetters even sons had been convened to that solemn meetyet; not for myself; I shall soon cease to being; and thus, although he could not divine linked to earth by so base a bond; but by the necessity which it imposes on me of bestowing it worthily and well." He paused, and swept his hand over his brow, thrusting away the grey hairs which clung about it. He was evidently agitated and oppressed by the responsibility that weighed upon him; but after a short pause, during which those about him remained silent, he rallied. wherefore, it was plain that they, at least, were not considered eligible to compete for the contested prize. Who were his opponents? An aged woman, already enriched by the whimsical old man who lay dying before him, beyond her hopes, and to the very summit of her desires; an obscure clerk in a public office, who could add nothing to the dignity of the family, nor to the honour of the name; and an orphan boy, without home, profession, or station in society. What, indeed, need he fear? He had, at least in the world's opinion, these, and more than these. He trembled with impatience. He was sick with hope. "I have asked each and all of you to be truthful with me;" pursued the old merchant; "for so only can I accomplish my task. There is a condition attached to the bequest of my property, from which, even here, upon what I feel to be my bed of death, I will not waver, "Penelope," said the old merchant at length; for I have registered a vow to observe it, and I"do not think me harsh or unkind, if I at once will not go to my grave forsworn. Should no individual among you be able to fulfil that con. dition, the bulk of my hard-earned gains will devolve to the public charities of the metropolis, where I may at least trust that they will tend to alleviate the misery of some of my afflicted terminate your suspense by declaring that you are not in a position to fulfil the condition to which I have alluded; and it was for that reason that I was anxious to secure to you a comfortable competency before we parted for ever. Are you satisfied with me?" |