scope), would serve the same purpose much more | with red braid, and peg-top sleeves, with large simply. The inquiry is an exceedingly interesting capes; in these they look like the old-fashioned one, and Sir John Herschel has expressed the opin- “ Charlies,” or night-watchmen. 2d. Their “seeion that there is no field of labor open to the ama- ond best ” dresses are of green baize without capes, teur telescopist which affords a better promise of made to fit quite tight, like a friar's frock, tied on original discoveries than the search for such varia- round the waist by means of a girdle of ornamental tions as we have described.

ribbon or patent leather strap.

They never – like the casuals at the workhouse

- attempt to tear their dresses off; but it is a great MY MONKEYS.

treat for them to be undressed and put before the BY FRANK BUCKLAND.

fire, and have a good scratch, after which their fur I do not think that we take sufficient notice of is brushed with a soft brush. They very soon come what may he properly called the mind of animals. of their own accord to have their clothes put on There is a mething which regulates their actions and again, for they are most sensitive to cold. Their thoughts, which is certainly a degree higher than best dress for summer evenings, at tea or dessert, instinct; and it is this peculiar faculty which I am when " company is coming," is a green velvet dress, so fond of studying. The monkeys at the Zoologi- trimmed with gold lace, like the huntsman of the cal Gardens are very interesting animals ; but Queen's staghounds. “When at meals " as chilthey are not, so to speak, civilized; they bave only dren say, they wear, if they are “ dressed for a par- ! their own relatives as associates, and they have ty," white cambric pinafores, with lace round the not learned the elegances and refinements of polite sleeves. society.

Under their dresses their chests are carefully I have two little monkeys that are really half wrapped round with warm flannel, sewed on. In educated, and are almost fit to go up for a competi- very cold weather they have an extra thickness of tive examination. Their original home was the flannel. I feel convinced that all valuable monkeys west coast of Africa ; their scientific name is Cer- should be dressed in this way, and that this plan copithecus Petaurista, or the Vaulting Monkey ; but should always be adopted at the Zoological, espectheir familiar names are Susey and Jenny. They ially with the ourangs, chimpanzees, spider moudiffer much in disposition. Jenny is the older of keys, and other rare and costly specimens. the two, and is much more sedate and grave in man- There is not the slightest suspicion of any paraner. She will sit in front of the fire warmning her- sites, or of any unpleasant smell, about Susey or self like an old woman on a cold day, while Susey“ the Hag.” They have two cages, - a day cage scampers about the room like a mad thing. From and a night cage. The day cage is a large wire Jenny's peculiar quiet and sometimes very disagree-cage, with a rope on which they can swing; the able and cross manner, when in any way . put out," night cage is like a dormouse cage, only, of course, she is generally known as “the Hag." She was of a larger size. They go into the box at the end presented to me by a friend in the War Office. and tumble themselves up in the bay, with which Susey was sent by Mr. Jamrack, the well-known the box is nearly filled. A cover is also put over animal dealer in Radcliffe Highway, to be sold at the cage, to keep them warm all night. the Zoological Gardens. I saw ber here in the cage The moment the fire is lighted in the morning in lying on her side breathing very hard, and very, my museum the servant puts the monkeys in their very ill ; in fact, in another hour or two she would night cage before it, and directly I come down to have been dead. Knowing Jamrack, with Mr. breakfast I let them out. They are only allowed to Bartlett's permission, I volunteered to take Susey be loose in my museum, as they do so much misbome, and see if she could be cured. Two or three chief, and in my museum I alone am responsible for days afterwards Jamrack came to my house for his the mischief they do. The moment the door of the monkey, and seeing she was so ill, said it was no cage is opened they both rush out like rockets, and use taking her, she would die." Accordingly he“ the Hag” goes immediately to the fender and said I could keep her " at the price of a dead mon-warms herself, like a good monkey, as she, being key, for she was as good as dead."

older, seems to know that if she misbebaves herself Mrs. Buckland took invalid Susey in hand, and she will have to be put back into her cage. Susey, by means of port wine, beef tea, and hot flannels, on the contrary, rushes round the room with the ve Susey after a while recovered ; but she is not over locity of a swallow, and takes observations as to what strong even now. Her features were much pinched mischief she can do. The first part of her day's by her illness, and slight traces of this still remain, work is to steal the sugar, and, if possible, upset the though she is very lively and fearfully mischievous. sugar-basin on to the floor, in order that in the genSusey and “the Hag" are always dressed like two eral scramble she may get more lumps than by the sisters going to a ball, and it is almost impossible for regulation progress of stealing a lump at a time. I a person who does not know them well to tell them have had so many sugar-basins broken, that I now apart. They are very small, about the size of a big use the commonest one I can buy, of thick glass, guinea-pig; they have green heads, very handsome and at the present moment the foot is broken away white beards, with a snow-white spot on the nose, even from this. If Susey cannot upset the basin and brilliant lustrous brown eyes; the cheeks are with her paws, she will kick at it with her hind beautifully marked with silk-like black hairs; the legs as she tries to escape me when I offer to catch ears are well turned, and very small. On the hair her. on the top of the head there are markings remind. Having poured out the tea, I open the Times ing us of the " plate bonnets” worn by ladies ; be- newspaper quite wide, to take a general survey of low, the monkeys “ wear their own hair," and not its contents. If I do not watch her carefully, Suchignons. They are always, summer and winter, sey goes behind the chair on to the book-shelf, and dressed in seasonable garments; their wardrobe comes crash, with Léotard-like jump into the middle consists of three sets of dresses. 1st. Their com- of the Times, like a fox-hunter charging at a fivemon winter dress of thick white flannel, trimmed barred gate. Of course, she cannot go through the

Saturday

Times, but she takes her chance of a fall somewhere, a pit, “ looking to see how we were looking,” and and her great aim seems to perform the double feat as quiet and noiseless as a marble bust. of knocking the Times out of my band and upset- When I go to Herne Bay to attend to oyster culting the teacup and its contents, or, better still, the tivation, I take the monkeys with me for the benefit teapot on to the floor. Lately, I am glad to say, of the sea air. I always put up at Mr. Walker's, she did not calculate her fall right, but she put her the confectioner, in the Esplanade. Mis. Walker fuot into the hot tea and stung herself smartly, and is very fond of the “colored ladies," as she calls this seems to have had the effect of making her them, and allows them to take great liberties. more careful for the future. All the day of this She is rather proud of the way she dresses her misfortune she walked upon her heels, and not upon shop-window with cakes, buns, sweet-stuff, &c. her toes as usual.

One day “the Hag” bad crept very quietly into the " The Hag" will also steal, but this in a more shop, and was having a “field day" all to herself. quiet manner. She is especially fond of sardines Mrs. Walker, sitting in the back parlor, was aroused in oil, and I generally let her steal them, because by hearing a crowd of boys laughing outside the the oil does her good, though the servants complain window. On coming into the front shop she found of the marks of her oily feet upon the cloth. Some-“the Hag" all among the cakes, &c. in the window, times the two make up a “stealing party." A few | both her cheek-pouches were as full as ever they mornings since I was in a particular hurry, having could hold of lemon-peel, and she was still munchto go away on duty by train. I left the breakfast ing at a great lump of it. My lady was sitting on things for a moment, and in an instant Susey the top of a large cake like a figure on a twelfth snatched up a broiled leg of pheasant and bolted cake. Susey was not in this bit of mischief for a with it, - carried it under her arm round and round wonder. the room, after the fashion of the clown in the pan- Mrs. Walker declared she would send "the Hag.” tomime. While I was hunting Susey for my pheas- before my friend, Captain Stark, the chief magisant, the Hag bolted with the toast; either of the trate of the town, for stealing, and have her locked thieves I could not find time to catch, and had to up for a fortnight; but the thief had first to be ring for more breakfast.

caught, and this was a difficult task, for she bolted It is extraordinary to see the love between these out into the bakehouse, and up stairs into the loft two pretty beasts. Little Susey runs directly to where the flour is kept. There is a large wooden the Hag if she is in trouble, and the Hag seems to funnel through which the flour is passed into the know Susey is the weakest, and must be protected. bakebouse below. Trying to hide herself from Mrs.

In a great measure, Susey owes her life to the Walker, " the Hag" jumped into the funnel, and the Hag, for when she was very ill, the flag nursed her lid not being on she fell down right through the like a mother does a baby; but, at the same time, whole length of it, and much to his astonishment the Hag gives her a thrashing every now and then lighted on Mr. Walker's head as he was making the to keep her in order; and this castigation consists bread below; she knew she was all right with Mr. in hunting her round the cage, and making a scold- Walker, but she was one mass of flour. Her green ing noise. If the Hag is in earnest, Susey bides baize coat was quite white, and she looked like a her head in the hay, and waits till the Hag's temper miller on a small scale, and the flour could not be is over.

brushed out of her for two or three days. The mischief this bright pair do, or are said to do, Mr. Walker tied her up, and there she stayed, by is appalling. Anyhow, I have tremendous long the warm oven, the rest of the day, chattering and “ monkey's bills" brought up to me for immediate telling him in monkey-language of all her troubles. payment, once or twice a week. The damages The monkeys' dumb companions in the house, are claimed are for destruction and injury to flowers; a very valuable talking parrot and a handsome bugles and beads, torn off bonnets, — sometimes | French Angora cat. Susey, when loose, renders whole bonnets, alas ! – pins broken from brooches; the lives of these creatures miserable. ornaments, &c. taken from tables and cannot be The parrot had originally about fourteen handfound, teacups, saucers, saucers and plates without some red feathers in her tail, now she can only musend ; tumblers innumerable, &c. &c. After they ter three feathers. Susey has pulled all the rest have by any chance escaped into the bedroom, and out. bad ten minutes there all to themselves, the bill Susey runs and jumps round and round the cage, will rival that for the Abyssinian expedition

and pretends to steal the Indian corn; the poor It is, moreover, very difficult to catch them in the bird turns round and round, with her feathers all drawing-room, or bedroom, because, if hunted, they the wrong way, and pecks at Susey, fighting her, run over the mantel-piece and side-tables and knock like an old woman up in a corner defends herself over the ornaments like skittle-balls, and no amount from a lot of mischievous teasing street boys. of persuasion will induce them to come and be While protecting her corn, Polly forgets her tail, caught. One day a scene of havoc was discovered and Susey watches her opportunity, and tears out a in the bedroom ; it was known the culprit was the handful of feathers at a time, and off she goes like Hag, and that she must be in the bedroom : the ser- a shooting-star. When the cat is asleep in front of vants were called up and the room searched thor- the fire, Susey's great delight is to creep noiselessoughly, sofa and other pieces of furniture moved, ly up behind and pull the fur out, and, it that does and the whole place thoroughly examined; still no not wake her, she witl get the end of her tail in her Hag could be found. The hunt was given up, but mouth and give it a bite, and this operation soon a strict watch kept. At last, after she knew the starts the cat. The cat is, in spite of the persecuhunt was over, and we were waiting for her to come tion she receives, not bad friends with the monkeys; out from somewhere, just the top of her head and they will sometimes both go and sit on her back and her bright eyes were seen in the looking-glass on the look the feas" in her fur. The worst of the montable, the original of the reflection being on the keys is that they have pockets in which to pack top of the great old-fashioned four-post bedstead, away the goods they steal. These pockets consist crouched down behind the board like a rifleman in of a pouch each side of the face ; when empty these

When my poor A. burst into tears at the begin- ness. You will have to ask them both to dinner, ning of this story, another woman, who should have Fanny." been Trevithic's wife, as far as one can judge speak- Fanny did not answer for a minute. She besiing of such matters, a person who could have sym- tated, looked Mary full in the face, and then said pathized with his ambitions and understood the very thoughtfully, “Don't you think unbleached direction of his impulses, a woman with enough calico will be best to line the jackets with? It will enthusiasm and vigor in her nature to carry her keep the children warm, poor little things." The bravely through the tangles and difficulties which children's little backs might be warmed by this only choked and scratcbed and tired out poor Anne, heap of snips and linings; but Mary suddenly felt - this person, who was not very far off at the time, as if all the wraps and flannels and calicos were and no other than Mary Myles, said to some one piled upon her head, and choking and oppressing who was with her, - and she gave a pretty sad her, while all the while her heart was cold and smile and quick shake of the head as she spoke, - shivering, poor thing! There are no flannel-jack

"No, it is no use. I have nothing but friendli- ets that I know of to warm sad hearts such as hers. ness, a borrible, universal feeling of friendliness, Fanny Garnier was folding up the last of her left for any of my fellow-creatures. I will confess jackets; Mary, after getting through more work in honestly” (and bere she lost her color a little) “I half an hour than Fanny the methodical could did wrong once. I married my husband for a manage in two, had returned to her big arm-chair, home, — most people know how I was punished and and was leaning back in the old listless attitude, what a miserable home it was. I don't mind telling dreaming dreams of her own, as her eyes wandered you, Colonel Hambledon, for you well understand to the window and followed the line of the trees how it is that I must make the best of my life in showing against the sky, — when the door opened, this arid and lonely waste to which my own fault and a stupid country man-servant suddenly introhas brought me."

duced Jack, and the Colonel of Mrs. Myles's visionMrs. Myles's voice faltered as she spoke, and she ary recollections in actual person, walking into the hung her head to hide the tears which had come very midst of the snippings and parings which were into her eyes. And Colonel Hambledon took this scattered about on the floor. Fanny was in nowise as an answer to a question he had almost asked her disconcerted. She rather gloried in her occupiand went away. "If ever you should change your tion. I cannot say so much for Mary, who nerv. mind,” he said, “ you would find me the same a ously hated any show or affectation of philanthropy, dozen years hence.” And Mary only sighed and and who now jumped up hastily, with an exclamashook her head.

tion, an outstretched hand, and a blush. But all this was years ago — three years nearly “There seems to be something going on," the by the Dulcie almanac — and if Mary Myles some- Colonel said, standing over a heap of strangling times thought she had done foolishly when she sent“ backs” and “arms." Charles Hambledon away, there was no one to “Do come up stairs out of this labyrinth of good whom she could own it, - not even to her cousin intentions," cried Mary, hastily. “Fanny, please Fanny, who had no thoughts of marrying or giving | put down your scissors, and let us go up." in marriage, or wishes for happiness beyond the "I'll follow,” said Fanny, placidly, and Mary had ordering her garden-beds and the welfare of her to lead the way alone to the long low bow-windowed poor people.

drawing-room which Trevithic knew so well. She Fanny one day asked her cousin what had be- had regained her composure and spirits by the time come of her old friend the Colonel. Mary blushed they reached the landing at the top of the low up brightly, and said she did not know, she be- fight of oak steps; and, indeed, both Hambledon lieved he was in Hammersley. Fanny, who was and Mrs. Myles were far too much used to the cutting out little flannel vests for her school-chilo world and its ways to betray to each other the dren, was immediately lost in the intricacies of a smallest indication of the real state of their minds. gore, and did not notice the blush or the bright Three years had passed since they parted. If amused glance in the quiet gray eyes that were Mary's courage had failed then, it was the Colonel's watching her at her benevolent toil. Snip, snip, now that was wanting; and so it happens with sni-i-i-i-i-i-ip went the scissors with that triumphant people late in life, — the fatal gift of experience is screeching sound which all good housewives love to theirs. They mistrust, they hesitate, they bargain bear. Mary was leaning back in her chair, per- to the uttermost farthing; the jewel is there, but it fectly lazy and unoccupied, with her little white is locked up so securely in strong boxes and wraphands crossed upon her knees, and her pretty head pers, that it is beyond the power of the possessors resting against the chair. She would•not have been to reach it. Their youth and simplicity is as much sorry to have talked a little more upon a subject a part of them still as their placid middle age; but that was not uninteresting to her, and she tried to it is hidden away under the years which are heaped make Fanny speak.

upon the past, and its glory is not shining as of old “ What do you think of him? Have you heard upon their brows. Mrs. Myles and the Colonel if he has come ? ” she asked, a little shyly.

each were acting a part, and perfectly at ease as “0, I don't know. No, I have not seen any of tbey discussed all manner of things that had been them for a long time," said Fanny, absently. since they met, and might be before they met again. “ Mary, are you not ashamed of being so lazy ? Fanny, having folded away the last of her flannels, Come and hold these strips."

came up placid and smiling too ; and after half Mary did as she was bid, and held out gray flan- an hour the two gentlemen went away. Fanny nel strips at arms' length, and watching the scissors forgot to ask them to dinner, and wondered why Aashing, the pins twinkling, and the neat little her cousin was so cross all the rest of the after heaps rising all about on the floor and the chairs noon. and the tables. Then Mrs. Myles tried again. No, Mary would not go out. No, she had no "Mr. Trevithic tells me that Colonel Hambledon is headache, thank you. As soon as she had got rid coming down to help him with this work house busi- of Fanny and her questionings, Mary Myles ran up

Saturday

glass.

to her room and pulled out some old, old papers and generous way of sympathizing and entering and diaries, and read the old tear-stained records into other people's troubles, that I do not despair till new tears fell to wash away the old ones. Ah, of his accomplishing this good work. My cousin yes, she had done rightly when she sent Hambledon and I feel very much with and for him. He looked away. Three years ago, it had seemed to her ill and worn one day when I called upon him ; but then that a lifetime of expiation would not be too I am glad to think that coming to us has been some long to repent of the wrong she had done when she little cbange and comfort to him. He is quite married, loveless, thriftful, longing (and that, poor alone, and we want him to look upon this place as soul, had been her one excuse,) for the possible love his hoine while he is here. Your old acquaintance that had never come to her. Life is so long, the Colonel Hambledon has come down about this busitime is so slow that passes wearily : she had been ness. It is most horrifying. Can you imagine the married three years, she had worn sackcloth three poor sick people left with tipsy nurses, and more years; and now, now if it were not too late, how dreadful still, girls locked up in cellars by the cruel gladly, how gratefully, she would grasp a hope of matron for days at a time? but this fact has just some life more complete than the sad one she had been made public. led ever since she could remember almost. Would " Goodness and enthusiasm like Mr. Trevithic's it not be a sign that she had been forgiven if the seem all the more beautiful when one hears such happiness she had so longed for came to her at last ? terrible histories of wickedness and neglect; one Mary wondered that her troubles had left no deeper needs an example like his in this life to raise one lines upon her face; wondered that she looked so from the unprofitable and miserable concerns of young still, so fair and smiling, while her heart felt every day, and to teach one to believe in nobler so old; and smiled sadly at her own face in the efforts than one's own selfish and aimless wander

ings could ever lead to unassisted. And then, as people do to whom a faint dawn of “ Pray remember me very kindly to Miss Moirising hope shows the darkness in which they have neaux and to Mrs. Trevithic, and believe me, dear been living, Mrs. Myles began to think of some of Miss Triquett, her duties that she had neglected of late, and of

" Very sincerely yours, others still in darkness for whom no dawn was

« MARY MYLES. nigh; and all the while, as people do whose hearts are full, she was longing for some one to speak to, “Is Mrs. Trevithic again suffering from neuralsome one wiser than herself to whom she could say, gia ? Why is not she able to be with her husWhat is an expiation ? can it, does it exist ? is it band ?” the same as repentance ? are we called upon to “Why, indeed ? ” said Miss Moineaux, hearing crush our hearts, to put away our natural emo- this last sentence read out by Miss Triquett. This tions? Fanny would say yes, and would scorn her excellent spinster gave no answer. She read this for her weakness, and cry out with horror at a letter twice through deliberately ; then she tied her second marriage. “And so would I have done,” | bonnet securely on, and trotted off to Gummers poor Mary thought, “if, — if poor Tom had only and Co. Then, having dispensed the bounties and been fond of me.” And then the thought of Tre- accepted the thanks of the poor creatures, she vithic came to her as a person to speak to, a helper determined to run the chance of finding Mrs. Treand adviser. He would speak the truth; he would vithic at home. “It is my painful dooty," said Trinot be afraid, Mary thought; and the secret re- quett to herself, shaking her head, — "my painful membrance that he was Hambledon's friend did dooty Anne Trevithic should go to her husband; not make her feel less confidence in his decisions. and I will tell her so. If I were Mr. Trevitbic's

wife, should I leave him to toil alone ? No, I

should not. Should I permit him to seek sympathy CHAPTER VIII.

and consolation with another, more fascinating perAASTY PUDDING AND BLOWS FROM A CLUB. haps ? No, certainly not. And deeply grateful MRS. MYLES had been away some little time should I have felt to her who warned me on my from her house at Sandsea, and from the self-im- fatal career; and surely my young friend Anne will posed duties which were waiting undone until her be grateful to her old friend whose finger arrests return. Something of admiration for Trevithic's her on the very edge of the dark precipice.” Miss energy and enterprise made her think that very Triquett's reflections had risen to eloquence by the day of certain poor people she had left behind, and time she reached the rectory door. “A vision of whom she had entirely forgotten. Before Fanny Anne clinging to her in tears, imploring her advice, , came home that evening, she sat down and wrote of John shaking her warmly by the hand and murto her old friend, Miss Triquett, begging her to be muring that to Miss Triquett they owed the reso good as to go to Mrs. Gummers, and one or two newed happiness of their home, beguiled the way. more whose names, ages, troubles, and families were “ Where is Mrs. Trevithic ?" she asked the butler, down upon her list, and distribute a small sum of in her deepest voice. “Leave us,” said Miss Trimoney enclosed. “I am not afraid of troubling quett to the bewildered menial as he opened the you, dear Miss Triquett," wrote Mary Myles, in her drawing-room door and she marched into the room; big, picturesque handwriting. “I know your kind and then encountering Mrs. Trevithic, she suddenly heart, and that you never grudge time nor fatigue clasped her in her well-meaning old arms. when you can help any one out of the smallest "I have that to say to you," said Miss Triquett, trouble or the greatest. I have been seeing a good in answer to Anne's amazed exclamation," which I deal lately of Mr. Trevithic, who is of your way of fear will give you pain; but were I in your place, thinking, and who has been giving himself an in- I should wish to hear the truth." The good old finity of pains about some abuses in the workhouse soul was in earnest; her voice trembled, and her here. He is, I do believe, one of the few people who little black curls shook with agitation. could have come to the help of the poor creatures. “Pray do not hesitate to mention anything," said He has so much courage and temper, such a bright | Mrs. Trevithic, surprised but calm, and sitting down

and preparing to listen attentively. “I am sure them. She replenished the flower-stands, and, studo anything you would like to have attended to " denly remembering that it was Mrs. Myles who had

Miss Triquett, at the invocation, pulled out the given them to her, she seized one tall glass fabri letter from her pocket. “Remember, only remem and all but flung it angrily on the ground. But ber this," she said, “ this comes from a young and reflecting that if it were broken it would spoil the attractive woman." And then in a clear and ring-pair, she put it back again into its corner, and coning voice she read out poor Mary's letter, with oc- tented herself with stuffing in all the ngliest scraps casional unspeakable and penetrating looks at of twigs, dead leaves, and flowers from the rise Anne's calm features.

of her basket. Poor little letter! It had been written in the The rector and his daughter dined at half past sincerity and innocence of Mary's heart. Any one five; it was a whim of the old man's. Anne clutched more deeply read in such things might have won-Dulcie in her arms before she went down after dered why Colonel Hambledon's name should have dressing. The child had never seen her mamma o been brought into it; but as it was, it caused a poor excited, and never remembered being kissed like jealous heart to beat with a force, a secret throb of that before by her. “D'oo lub me vely mish to sudden jealousy, that nearly choked Anne for an day, mamma?” said Dulcie, pathetically. "Is it instant as she listened, and a faint pink tinge came toz I'ave my new frock?” rising up and coloring her face.

Old Mr. Bellingham came in at the sound of the "Remember, she is very attractive," Miss Triquett second bell, smiling as usual, and rubbing his conre-echoed, folding up the page. “Ah! be warned, fortable little fat hands together; he did not remark my dear young friend. Go to him ; throw yourself that anything was amiss with his daughter, though into his arms; say, • Dearest, darling husband, your be observed that there was not enough cayenne in little wife is by your side once more; I will be your the gravy of the veal cutlets, and that the cook had comforter !' Do not hesitate.” Poor old Triquett, | forgotten the necessary teaspoonful of sugar in the completely carried away by the excitement of the soup. For the first time since he could remember moment, had started from her seat, and with ex. Anne failed to sympathize with his natural vexatina, tended arms had clasped an imaginary figure in the and seemed scarcely as annoyed as usual at the air. It was ludicrous, it was pathetic, to see this neglect which had been shown. Mr. Bellingham poor old silly meddlesome creature quivering, as her was vexed with her for her indifference: he always heart beat and bled for the fate of oihers. She had left the scolding to her; he liked everything to no tear or emotions of her own. It was absurd – smooth and comfortable, and he did not like to be was it not ? — that she should care so deeply for called upon personally to lose his temper. “ For things which could not affect her in the least de- what we have received," — and the butler retires gree. There was Anne, with her usual self-posses- with the crumbs and the cloths, and the little oil sion, calmly subduing her irritation. She did not gentleman — who has had a fire lighted, for the smile ; she did not frown ; she did not seem to no- evenings are getting chilly — draws comfortably in tice this momentary ebullition. To me it seems to his chimney-corner; while Anne, getting up frot that, of the two, my sympathy is with Miss Triquett. her place at the head of the table says abruptly Let us be absurd, by all means, if that is the price that she must go up stairs and see what Dulcie which must be paid for something which is well about. A restless mood had come over ber; someworth its price.

thing unlike anything she had ever felt before. Miss Triquett's eyes were full of tears. “I am Little Triquett's eloquence, which bad not even impetuous, Mrs. Trevithic," she said. “My aunt seemed to disturb Anne at the time, bad had full has often found fault with me for it. Pray excuse time to sink into this somewhat torpid apprehension, me if I have interfered unwarrantably.”

and excite Mrs. Trevithic's indignation. It was " Interference between married people rarely does not the less fierce because it had smouldered so any good, Miss Triquett,” said Anne, standing up long. with an icy platitude, and unmistakably showing 1 Insolent creature !” Anne said to herself, workthat she considered the visit at an end.

ing herself up into a passion ; " how dare she inter “Good by," said poor Miss Triquett, wistfully. fere ? Insolent ridiculous creature ! Remember * Remember me most kindly to your papa."

that that woman is attractive' - Ilow dare she · Certainly," said Mrs. Trevithic. "I am afraid speak to me? O, they are all in league, – in you will have a disagreeable walk back in the rain, league against me!” cried poor Anne, with a moin. Miss Triquett. Good evening. Pray give my com- wringing her hands with all the twinkle of stones pliments to Miss Moineaux."

upon her slim white fingers. “John does not love * The old maid trudged off alone into the mud and me, he never loved me! He will not do as I wisa, the rain, with a mortified sense of having behaved though he promised and swore at the altar he woult absurdly, disappointed and tired, and vaguely And she, - she is spreading her wicked toils round ashamed and crestfallen. The sound of the dinner him, and keeping him there, while I am here alone, bell ringing at the rectory as she trudged down the — all alone; and he leaves me exposed to the insohill in the dark and dirt, did not add to her cheer- lence of those horrible old maids. Papa eats his fulness.

dinner and only thinks of the favor of the dishes, Anne, with flushed red cheeks and trembling and Dulcie chatters to her doll and don't care, and hands, as Triquett left the room, sank down into no one comes when I ring," sobbed Mrs. Trevith: her chair for a moment, and then suddenly starting in a burst of tears, violently tugging at the bells up, busied herself exactly as usual with her daily rope. “0, it is a shame, a shame!" task of putting the drawing-room in order before Only as she wiped away the tears & gleam of she went up to dress. Miss Triquett's seat she determination came into Mrs. Trevithic's blue et pushed right away out of sight. She collected her and the flush on her pale cheeks deepened. father's writing-materials and newspapers, and put bad taken a resolution. This is what she world them straight. She then reread her husband's last do, - this was her resolution : she would go and few lines. There was nothing to be gleaned from confront him there on the spot and runsind him