As a variety upon this passage, take Professor Pillans's remark on the way in which history is too often taught in schools. History has been well defined, Philosophy teaching by example; but to give the examples without the philosophy, is to reverse the order of nature. For until reason and reflection enable us to draw from history the lessons which it teaches, and to enlarge the sphere of our own experience, by being introduced to scenes in the drama of human life, which occasionally elevate and encourage, but more frequently admonish and warn, and impress us with a humiliating sense of the weakness and the wickedness of former ages-till we can reap such fruits, what is history but a catalogue of the crimes and follies and miseries of our race? Of what use can it be to crowd the child's memory with the minute details of these-with dates and descriptions of battles, the exact number of the killed and wounded on both sides, the lineal descent of all the foolish kings and ferocious tyrants who have afflicted humanity, the day and year they were born and died, and the length of their disastrous reigns? There is, indeed, a way of culling the flowers of history which might agreeably and profitably follow geographical preparation, before the close of the ninth year. The bright points of man's history may be dwelt uponthe biography of great men who, by their intellectual feats, have impressed a character on the age; notices of discoveries and inventions which have improved the condition of mankind; while the dreary wastes of chronology are passed lightly over.'

There is much of a cheering nature from Lord Carlisle, Mr M. D. Hill, Captain Crofton, and others, on the reformation of criminals. Good results from the recent efforts in Ireland continue to be shewn. We have a paper from Mr W. Bayne Ranken, giving an account of a society for the aid of discharged prisoners -a perfectly indispensable adjunct to all efforts at the restoration of convicts to a sphere of honest industry. 'With very few exceptions, the society has received most satisfactory accounts of the well-doing of both the men and women it has been instrumental in gaining employment for, and the loans advanced have almost in every instance been repaid.' On the other hand, Mr Monckton Milnes reports of an Industrial Home for Discharged Prisoners at Wakefield, that, during two years, of 343 persons admitted, 95 have left without assigning any reason, 73 have been discharged for misconduct, 36 left, having objections to the regulations, 34 to seek employment, while only 67 have been passed from the home into profitable

There is a laborious paper by Dr Farr on the influence of marriage on the mortality of the French people. We learn that there is considerably less mortality among the married than the single; that between twenty and forty, the mortality of wives is greater than that of husbands, but less at subsequent ages, though not in a great degree; and that at all ages widows are more mortal than wives.' It strikes us that one all-sufficient reason for the superior viability of the married is, that they are generally a selection of the comparatively healthy, and do not, as a rule, comprehend so many soldiers, criminals, fatuous persons, and others, who are peculiarly exposed to the causes destructive of life.

The obstacles to sanitary reform are unfortunately very great. It is found that the rural labourer in England cannot afford a cottage fit for the perfect maintenance of health: if he gets one, it must be partly at the expense of his landlord or employer. The building of improved houses for the labouring-classes in towns evidently is not a tempting speculation to builders or capitalists, for it is not entered upon by them, and has only as yet been tried by philanthropists. The Rev. Charles Kingsley, in treating this subject, adverts to the class of owners of property occupied by the poor, as one having an interest in keeping things as they are, and whom nothing but a rigorous system of inspection can control. But how can this be attained? The low property-owners form no small element of that order who chiefly affect elections, and who are the only one now thoroughly represented. Their prejudices, superstitions, pride, and theirs alone, must be courted by the man who desires to become a senator; while the man of science or of scholarship, who could and would do battle against our social evils, has practically little more voice in the legislation of the country than the working-man who suffers from those evils, whose children, and too often he himself, are the victims of preventable disease, or of lingering weakness and misery engendered by an atmosphere to which we would not expose our dogs and horses.'

As it does not seem to admit of a doubt that the system of distribution by retail shop-keeping is a cumbrous and expensive one-there being more house-property, and that of a finer kind, and more human beings, employed in it, than are necessarywhile the competition unavoidably induces adulteration of goods and other evils-much interest attaches to all rational efforts at a system which shall be more economic. The Rochdale co-operative stores and the Leeds flour-mills are great facts. We here find an account of a very modest, and as yet infantine association for such objects, in Liverpool. In 1851, it had but 34 members, and kept its stores in a press; in 1857, it had 475 members, and had a store constantly open under proper officers, with two branch-establishments. The business for seven years has amounted to L.17,115. Articles of food and clothing have been secured to the members, of a better quality than could have been obtained at the average retail-shop. Weight and measurement have also been secured, together with protection of the ignorant in their purchases, especially of articles of wearing apparel. These advantages have been obtained at a payment for each article of not more than the average shopprice.'

The providing of innocent amusement for the people, in antagonism to the usually sole entertainment offered by the public-house, is one of the important problems of our age, and we find here some notice, from Mr Samuel Taylor, of what appears as a very hopeful effort at its solution. At Hanley, in the midst of the dense industrial population of the Potteries, there are now, twice a week, Literary and Musical Entertainments for the People, lasting about two hours each, and consisting of readings from good authors, alternated by the performances of a band. They are so attractive that great difficulty has been experienced in providing sufficient accommodation for the audience. At first, admission was free, the funds being supplied by a few friends to popular improvement. But one evening a working-man from the body of the hall arose, and voluntarily proposed that an admission-fee of one penny should be charged in future. This proposition was received with acclamation, and carried most enthusiastically; and thus, by the act of the people themselves, the entertainments were made self-supporting, for the small sum charged proved sufficient to defray all expenses, and leave a balance in the hands of the treasurer at the end of each session.' Latterly, the plan has been followed in other towns with equal success. The literary and musical staff has consisted, in many instances, of persons who, heretofore, have confined the exercise of their talents to the drawing-room; while the amount and quality of musical acquirements amongst the working-class, developed during the proceedings, were both surprising and gratifying. The deep and active interest which persons of all conditions have taken in these entertainments, and the support rendered to them by the clergy of the Church of England, and ministers of all denominations, are not only a guarantee for their future success, but indicate their high moral tendency, and the great desire all classes have to meet together to participate in pleasures which all can share free from political differences and sectarian animosities. Wealthy manufacturers have been seen reading to their workmen, and the delicately trained and accomplished lady has thrown aside reserve, and played and sung to her humbler neighbours; and the people have repaid with interest such instances of kindness by the propriety of their demeanour, and by the most grateful demonstrations.'

Mr Taylor adds the important result, that about twenty music saloons connected with public-houses have fallen before this well-conducted effort. Great numbers who have been accustomed to seek recreation at such places, have been remarkable for their regular and punctual attendance at these entertainments, and the marked attention they have paid to the proceedings. Whole families belonging to the working-classes attended them regularly, and husbands and fathers, accustomed to seek amusement in haunts of vice, have learned how great and pure is the pleasure arising from innocent yet cheerful recreation, shared in common with their wives and families.'

MY THREE WOOINGS.

IN FOUR CHAPTERS.

CHAPTER I.

It was a most unjustifiable proceeding! I can say nothing in extenuation of my conduct; nothing even to qualify it; but since confessions are the fashion, I will make a clean breast of it,' and relate the whole story, trusting it may prove at least a warning-voice to the few-for I hope there are not many-who have been placed in my strange position-that of the accepted lover of three charming girls at the same time!

Yes, fair reader, you may well shake those silken curls at me; such was the astounding fact.

It was long ago-I will not say how long ago, for I ain not going to narrate my whole history; only such passages of it as are connected with what has been defined as an episode in the life of man, though it forms the whole history of woman.' The daughter of my private tutor was my first love.

Where is the man who did not fall in love with the daughter of his private tutor? always supposing he had a private tutor, and that private tutor had a daughter.

Her name was Rose May, and she was like a Mayrose, so fresh, so fair, so blooming, so artless.

Of course, all her father's 'young men' fell in love with her; she was used to that; and it was not only her vanity that was flattered by my attentions. Attentions? That was an odd word, for they only consisted in my inattention to everything else. It was no use carving her name upon the trees; I found they were all scored over with it already. It was no use sending her valentines; Dr May saw all her letters. It was no use playing the flute, nor even the key-bugle, for she said she did not like music, though her voice, when she taught the school-children their Hundredth Psalm and their Evening Hymn, was as sweet as St Cecilia's might have been. At last, I found a way to her heart.

I.

Rose was fond of sketching from nature, and so was It is true that the gable-ends of her roofs were wandering upward and downward in search of some unknown vanishing-point; and her chimneys had a trick of looking over into their neighbours' windows, like the leaning tower of Pisa; but I gave her some hints about this, and was soon installed her drawingmaster.

This insured me many a pleasant stroll with her; and I cut her pencils, and carried her book; and we often sat and looked at the same oak-tree without much progress in its outline. At last I made a discovery.

I took up a drawing-book which I was not intended to see; it was snatched out of my hands, and the May-rose became a blush-rose on the spot; but I gained my point at last. I opened the book, and there were indubitable proofs that the talent of my lovely pupil lay not in gables and in oak-trees, but in portraits. There was I myself, in a variety of attempts, the cravat particularly elaborated; but the profile could not be mistaken (reader, I have an aquiline nose): the nostril was left out altogether; the eye but faintly indicated, though there were long eyelashes, like stitches in netting, round it; the hair made one think of the 'ancient thatch upon the lonely moated grange;' but still it was my hair; and the eyebrow unmistakable.

I turned to the May-rose in unspeakable happiness. I am not sure what I did-whether I kissed my own portrait or her hand, or fell on my knees; but I know that soon after we were engaged-irrevocably engaged. She was sixteen; I was eighteen. We knew our own minds perfectly; we had gone through this bleak world alone, unloving and unloved, except by a few fathers and mothers, and maiden aunts; we had found the one only being who could understand and appreciate us-we loved; we were betrothed.

I went to Oxford, and passed wretched years in anguish and suspense, occasionally relieved by boating, driving coaches-there were coaches in those days-hunting, wine-parties, and a very little reading. wish in life was to have a tolerable living, which my I went through my little go creditably. My only father would purchase for me, and marry the May

rose.

I have promised not to write an autobiography,

My uncle, the general, took a fancy, though a very precarious one, to me. I went down, at his invitation, to his place in Hampshire. The fancy took root, and flourished. I wonder at it, for I went with a thorough determination to contradict him in everything, lest he should suppose I wanted to curry favour with him. He had made his fortune in India, in the days when fortunes were made there; and he was bent upon one of two things-either that I should accept a writership and go to Madras, or marry his ward, Justina Warner, who was to have three thousand a year, and was just seventeen.

Of course, I resolved to do neither; and in order to clench the matter, finding Miss Warner was expected at the Birches, asked on purpose to meet me, I immediately wrote a most pathetic epistle to the May-rose, accompanied with a turquoise and pearl-ring in the shape of a 'forget-me-not,' renewing my vows of unchangeable fidelity. To this I received a tender reply, written on pink paper, with a stamped border, which found its home in my left waistcoat-pocket; and what delighted me more was a lock of her exquisite fair hair, and a heart's-ease ring, which just fitted my little finger, where I forthwith installed it.

Alas! was it the presentiment of danger that made me thus barricade my heart and guard my hand with that little special constable of a heart's-ease ring? I know not, but I felt that I should be violently attacked by the said Justina Warner, especially as my uncle, who was enthusiastic in her praise, described her as 'a splendid girl;' such a horsewoman! Just see her ride Sky-rocket across country, that's all; stops at nothing. Then such a mimic; so clever, she takes off people to their faces. And as Here he ended in an admiring laugh, which quite abashed me by anticipation.

to caricatures!'

The May-rose softly blushed upon my imagination in contrast to this hoyden; and I pressed the hand with the ring on its little finger fervently on my left waistcoat-pocket containing the pink letter.

Justina came. Directly the ringing of gate bells, clapping of doors, lifting of trunks, and other notes of arrival, assailed me, I rushed out into the shrubbery into the free air' as I called it; but it was not free to me, for there I met my uncle, with a very red face, hurrying in to receive her. He gasped out "Where are you off to, you young scapegrace? Don't you know Justina's come?'

I was turned back like a whipped hound, and followed my uncle to the back-door by which he was entering; there, however, I saw a way of escape-the back-stairs which led to my bedroom. Regardless of consequences, I rushed up the steps, overturning a pail and mop in my way, reached my room without further accident, bolted the door, and threw myself a chair, literally panting with the sense of escape.

on

My room looked towards the back of the house into the stable-yard. I could not make up my mind to face the formidable Miss Warner at luncheon, and waited till I trusted she would be disposed of, either to go out with my uncle, or retire to her own room; so I remained where I was, beguiling the time with the dear little pink letter, which I had by heart, and thinking of the dear little writer. Suddenly I heard my uncle's voice close under my window; a groom was called, and desired to bring out a newly purchased horse, to shew Miss Warner.

'A nice lad! O yes, I can just fancy. I suppose he walks out by moonlight, and always shuts the door softly, and sits with his feet under his chair, and says: "Yes indeed" and "you don't say so!" A regular muff, I dare say. But where are the pointer puppies? I must see them first, and then the new horse.'

Here the conversation took a canine turn, and relieved my angry blushes. I was violently incensed; indeed, in the agitation of the moment, I actually tore in pieces the precious pink letter I had in my hand. This misfortune rather calmed my feelings-on the principle of counter-irritation, I suppose, for I was much annoyed to lose the valued relic. I got out my desk, and sat down to write to the May-rose, but somehow or other, I could not get on. There was every now and then a loud, but very merry, and not unmusical laugh under my window, that disturbed me, and I began to wonder what this virago looked like. I hated her most intensely, and the very hatred gave me an interest in her.

I began several sheets to the May-rose, and found, that after writing, Dearest and loveliest Rose,' or 'Sweetest and fairest Rose,' &c., I had nothing to say to her, but to relate the incidents of Miss Warner's arrival. I tore up the letter in disgust, at my own stupidity, and began to think it only wanted an hour of dinner, and then I could not avoid meeting the detestable Miss Warner. For that hour, I continued my voluntary captivity, afraid of encountering the enemy, if I went out; but I employed the time in selecting what I considered to be the most knowinglooking of my cravats and waistcoats.

I never had bestowed so much time and thought upon my dress before; yet it was not so much the wish to please, as the fear of ridicule. I wondered, as I never did before, whether my long straight hair did not really give me a 'spooney' look, and whether a green or a purple waistcoat might not make me look pale and moonstruck.' A white cravat I entirely avoided, for having sported one at Dr May's on a grand occasion, Rose had said—though this was before we were engaged-that it made me look like a footman.

At last the second bell rung, and in spite of all I could do, my heart beat violently, and I felt my cheeks flush as I entered the drawing-room. To my horror and consternation, Justina was there alone. I felt so utterly dismayed, that my first impulse was to retreat, and shut the door again; but in doing this, in my confusion, I shut in the paw of a Skye terrier that had followed me into the room. Nettle began to howl; Miss Warner flew to the rescue, seated herself on the floor, and began to soothe the whining animal, and examine the wounded foot. This she did without taking the slightest notice of me, who stood by rather sulkily, feeling as if I ought to apologise, and yet, as it was my own dog, I did not see why I should, unless I did so to Nettle, who was certainly the aggrieved party.

'You are giving yourself a great deal of trouble,' said I, feeling I must say something. He is not much hurt.'

'You might have broken his leg, and perhaps you have,' she said, still intent on the dog. 'I never saw

anything so awkward. Why could you not have come in at once, and not taken fright at me?'

'I? I was looking for my uncle,' said I, much abashed; otherwise I should'

'Nonsense! Tell the truth at once, if you wish to please me.'

How I longed to tell her I did not wish to please her, but had not courage!

There, you darling little pet, you'd tell the truth if you could speak, wouldn't you? Is it your dog? What's its name? You don't deserve such a dear dog, and not to care whether you crush it to death or not! I wish you'd give it to me; I have taken a great fancy to the dog.'

with my inner being. I had leaned back in my armchair, and concealed my face with the newspaper. Justina, peeping over the top of her music-book, I suppose, thought me asleep, and half in merriment, half in mortification, suddenly clattered down the music-book upon the keys, making a tremendous orchestral crash. The newspaper dropped from before my eyes, in my sudden start at the shock. Justina saw that I was actually in tears; there was no time to conceal the fact. The general laughed, Justina did not; she looked very red, and very much astonished and disconcerted, and sat at the piano without attempting to pick up her book or resume her playing.

manner.

At this juncture, in came my uncle, and the butler followed him to announce dinner.

'What's the matter now?' said he, stopping opposite to Justina, who sat close to the door, Turkish fashion, with the dog in her lap.

'Nothing at all, general,' said she, rising with graceful ease, and still holding Nettle in her arms. This poor dog has been hurt in the door; and as a recompense for my skill in doctoring him, your nephew has been so polite as to give him to me. Is not that good-natured?'

She said this with an air of such genuine delight, and my uncle looked so pleased with me, as he said: Upon my word, then, I suppose you have made acquaintance without me?' that I was again tonguetied, and of course my silence was acquiescence. It was quite a relief to me when seated at dinner with the lights-for I had scarcely had a sight of Miss Warner's features in the dusk of the drawing-roomit was quite a relief to me, that she was not pretty. She was small, and slight, and exquisitely formed; her eyes were magnificent-dark hazel, with long black lashes; her hair as dark as night, but its thick tresses were carelessly arranged, and did not shew off the really beautiful shape of her head; her complexion was that of a brunette; her mouth too large for beauty, though her teeth were like pearls: in short, she was one of those women who do not strike at first, but grow into beauty as you learn them by heart. Some might call her plain, and some few might think her beautiful. I was determined to think her detestable, and to give her no encouragement; but as the dinner and evening proceeded without her appearing to take the least notice of me, I was at a loss how to manifest my intention.

The general was bent upon drawing out her talents and accomplishments, shewing her caricatures, and making her sing. She sung admirably; and though I appeared entirely absorbed in the Hampshire Mercury, and though my uncle's favourite songs were not mine, yet I could not help feeling a charm in them.

To Justina's singing I was determined to act the 'deaf adder;' but it was no use-the spell was on me: it was music, not this song or that, which she sung. There was something in the perfectly trained, though not powerful voice, that gave a promise, a security to the ear that it would not be wounded. It was music that seemed to vibrate to some chord within me-it was music that made me feel almost as if I were singing it myself, so perfectly in unison did it seem

I had no idea you were so fond of music,' she said in a low voice, quite unlike her former manner. 'I thought you disliked it.' 'And that was the reason you played and sung, then?'

'Yes.'

'Well, then, think I dislike it still, and go on playing and singing.'

'Are there any songs you particularly-dislike?' "Yes; but if you sing them-as I suppose you would, if I name them-I should be sure to like them.' Here she jumped up from the piano, and clapped her hands, running up to my uncle.

"General, general, why did we not have a bet? A compliment; your nephew has actually paid me a compliment-given me his dog, and paid me a compliment. Is not that pretty well for the first day's work?' I was utterly confounded and exasperated.

'Bold, vain, conceited coquette,' thought I; 'but no more worth a serious moment's consideration than a musical snuff-box, which I shall make play for my amusement.'

Let the reader experienced in such matters, which I confess is not even now my case, imagine a succession of such scenes for a fortnight. I was by degrees occupied, interested, curious, piqued, provoked, mortified, flattered, and finally, captivated. Yes, reader with the dark braids and soft eyes, do not look up reproachfully: it was a fact. Of course, it is needless to assure you that I did not succumb without a struggle; the final and conquering blow was given by the appearance of a rival.

My uncle, the general, was too much of an old soldier to encourage any such poachers on his own estate, but there was a county ball, from which Miss Warner would not be absent I had grown by this time to think her not only pretty, but absolutely beautiful. There was a variety in her dress, her looks, and her humour, that did not seem design, but a kind of adorable caprice, that was quite enchanting. She never did, or said, or looked, as you expected she would.

At this ball there were officers from Winchester, and dandies from London, and squires and eldest sons from the neighbourhood. Miss Warner was known as a fortune, as a capital horsewoman, as a beautiful waltzer, as a wit, and as 'capital fun.' It was not the fashion to call her a beauty; yet, when she came out, looking her best, and perfectly well dressed, people were surprised into saying, she was quite pretty' to-night. How often an established beauty, one shade paler than usual, is thought looking quite plain !"

Well, this was one of Justina's triumphal nights. She was in white, with scarlet pomegranate blossoms in her dark hair, and looping up her dress. I could not waltz, and suffered an unknown and intense torture in seeing Justina whirled past me in the arms of one man after another through the dance. She evidently seemed to enjoy it.

'Don't you dance?' said she to me, during a pause. You have not asked me. But perhaps you would like to be introduced to some other girls.'

'I do not dance,' said I, with dignity; 'and I despise every one, every man, at least, that does.' Her partner here claimed her, and she was again whirled

away.

'So Sir William Rycroft is caught at last!' said a sharp feminine voice in the circle near me.

'Yes, so they say,' was the response; 'and a lucky man, too. Rich as he is, and a young baronet, he was looking out for money.'

But what has Miss Warner? She is much too pretty for an heiress,' said the other voice.

I knew that it was Sir William Rycroft, who was then in the heat of a deur-temps with Justina. I watched them with the eye of a hawk. The dance was over, and he was leading her to the supper-room; she turned her head, as if looking for some one. I thought it was for her temporary chaperon, Lady Rycroft, mother of the baronet; but she still looked about till she glanced at me. Her cheek flushed, and she gave me an unmistakable sign to come to her. I advanced coldly and doubtingly. 'O Gerald !' she exclaimed-this was the first time she had ever called me by my Christian name, and it thrilled me like the music of her songs-' where is the General? I so particularly wish you would take me to him— can you?' She almost placed her arm within mine, as she withdrew from the discomfited baronet. He could only bow acquiescence, and look daggers and pistols at me. As soon as we had left him, she said: Pray, forgive my familiar address just now. I saw you looked horrified at my calling you "Gerald."'' 'No, Justina,' said I; 'not in the least. I am never surprised at any caprice in you.'

. Thank you. But it was not entirely caprice; it was to get rid of that man. I thought you would allow me for once to take the liberty of using your name.'

"Why, they say you are engaged to him, and I have seen you dance with him all the evening.'

'What was I to do if nobody else danced?' Everybody asked you.'

'Well, and I danced with everybody; and now I have done-I don't mean to dance any more.'

'I was in hopes you would once, one dull quadrille with me.'

Why did you not ask me, then? I thought you despised dancing.'

'I only hate those that dance with you.' The quadrille was forming, and we stood up. She was in no haste to find the general, and never had she so fascinated me. Sir William came up again to take her to supper, and he looked bitterly mortified when she coolly refused.

'You are scarcely polite to him,' said I magnanimously.

'I did not intend it. His mother has most impertinently made his proposals to me, and he has taken it for granted they were accepted; so I have set him down and given him his answer; and I wish to goodness, Gerald, you could waltz, and then I should not have any trouble; but to refuse a man pointblank, and then let him clasp one round the waist, is rather awkward.'

'And if I had been able to waltz ?'

This of course' both bewildered and enchanted me. I sat next her at supper-a regular countryball sitting-down supper. The general was opposite, and her chaperon, Lady Rycroft, completely distanced. I don't know how many glasses of champagne I drank, but I made several puns, and felt witty enough to have written Vanity Fair. Then came a sentimental fit, and I quoted Byron, and swore 'there were none of Beauty's daughters with a magic like her,' and that she walked in beauty like the night. I have a suspicion that I must have said something even more tender and 'compromising' still.

Instead of laughing at all this, as was her wont, Justina received it with an air of beatitude; and just as we were making our way to the cloak-room-the general following discreetly in the rear, she said in a low voice: You have made me so very, very happy, Gerald, this evening, I must tell you so.'

'Is it possible?' said I, venturing to press the little hand resting on my arm. 'How so?'

'Oh, of course you know what I mean; only you men are such tyrants-you will never be satisfied without making us acknowledge our slavery.' 'What can slavery have to do with you-and me; unless, indeed’– and here I floundered for a compliment.

'Oh, spare yourself the trouble of telling me you are my slave, when all the time, you only wanted to make me yours.'

'What can you mean?'

'O pretty innocence! Why, I mean, if it must out, that it makes me ten thousand times happier to find, after all, you-you love me, in spite of yourself, and though you were determined to hate me, than if you had come prepared to make love aux beaux yeur de ma cassette, like all the other men. I was just as resolved to dislike you too; and yet you see.'

How could I interrupt her otherwise than by again pressing the little hand!

She went on: But, Gerald, you must not think me very strange and bold (I dare say, you do, though, already!) if I give you one hint: I shall be obliged to tell the general immediately about Sir William Rycroft, as he will be sure to hear of it. I expect to be terribly blamed, unless-unless you or I tell him also what has passed to-night: he is sure to be delighted at that, you know.'

She said this in a hurried, agitated manner. I scarcely know what I said in answer; I was again taken for granted. The general joined us almost immediately, and we stepped into the carriage for a long drive home, which was effectually a tête-à-tête, as the general was fast asleep very soon; and as Justina leaned forward to talk to me in whispers, and allowed me to hold her hand in mine, I forgot everything but herself and her strange unexpected confessions, that she had liked me from the very first, though she had been quite determined not to do so.

As soon as we arrived, I hastened to my room, not venturing to encounter the general. In the morning, however, I was doomed: he was alone in the breakfast-room when I came down. I quite longed to see Justina also, but she did not appear. Anything would have been better than an explanation with him. He began by clapping my back, shaking my hands, poking my ribs, and every English equivalent to an embrace-calling me 'Lucky dog,' 'Sly fox,' and other congratulatory epithets. At last I gained courage to ask him what he meant.

'Mean! Why, what the devil do you mean?'

to say, then, you won't have her?'