that in which the log burnt itself out (the previous repetitions of the song going for 66 In the young and juicy bough, Lightly laugh the flames, and dance ; Soon 'tis past, as years advance, Comes but seldom hour of play. "Deep and searching is the glow, Hot and wasting, fierce and stern, Even on earth begin to burn. "Now no more of youth and joy, Hope is dead, and promise o'er ; "See, the fire grows dim and grey, One by one the ashes fall; Glow an instant, then decay, Life! hast given thy best, thine all? "On and on the blackness creeps, Fades by turn each glimmering spark, Lady Grizel sang the song through once without interruption. She began to sing it again, but had hardly finished the second verse when the firebrand fell with a crash upon the hearth in front of her, snapped suddenly in half, scattering in its fall a brilliant spray of red-hot sparks, which in another moment were turned to pale powdery ashes. The broken log itself glowed for a second or two and then expired, leaving the chamber in all but total darkness. Lady Grizel shuddered, and her voice seemed as if it too had suddenly died away. In that silence and darkness we must leave her. CHAPTER V. "Brief as the memory of a guest Who tarries but one bustling day, Who drains his cup, and tells his jest, MEANTIME the ball was being kept up, as the local papers said, with much spirit. The only disappointed person was Mr. Sowerby, inasmuch as Sir Britannicus Camden never came. He took refuge with the whist-players, while his wife was the acknowledged belle of the evening. Half her amusement was in laughing to herself over the astonishment which some of the ladies would have shown if they could have peeped into one or two of the back pages her history. As it was, her reminiscences of of foreign parts were the delight of her partners, and her nonchalant, fine-lady way of discussing the theatre at Brussels was an absurd contrast, as she herself felt, to the painful earnestness with which she had once regarded it as a matter of daily bread. As the Russian prince had not taken any particular notice of Maria, she consoled herself by dancing a good many times with Captain Goosestep; and as she looked very well, and danced nicely and with enjoyment, she made a considerable impression. Indeed, as Maria will appear no more in our story after the present chapter, we may as well inform the reader that she is now Mrs. Goosestep, and has, we believe, a brood of little goslings. Sir John was immensely happy "chaffing" her and the other young ladies of his acquaintance. Cousin Jacob was in great request, and delighted at being told by one of the prettiest girls in the room that she considered five-and-forty as quite the prime of life. And as Mr. Sowerby won two out of three rubbers, it may be said on the whole that the Blowcaster ball was a great success. The discussion of it the next morning at a late breakfast was almost equally delightful, Maria giving the business part of the narrative-names, places, and times -and Mrs. Sowerby the little poetical touches; and now and then, when the names were missing, convulsing Sir John by such good mimicry of the people she described that there was no mistaking them. The only drawbacks were Mr. Sowerby's fussiness about being late for the 11.5 train, which was to carry them off to the duke's (Maria accompanying them as far as Mugby Junction, on her way to the house of another uncle and aunt, while Mrs. Sowerby's nurse and |