e insiderabiy older than you, and is a mael's, was against every holy; and widow. What would your father all its contributors were capitally

paid. (harles O'Leary opened an ac“Say' what he always says - that count at Poole's; Fuzheron puidl hs every Vauieverer m.shin a meas of tailor something on acrount; Franh his marriage. Why tiedetenir und d Orville set up a private hansın. I break through a family habiti' But when it had run just twenty

"l'pon my word," lausled Luttrel, weeks, Tracy, who, though he likeil * when a man's in love he's the most aprending money merely at a new unmanageable of animais purpt, rullsation had an hereditary fondnews parhaps, a woman in the same circuin- for accounts, looked into his ca-hstances. But you'll soon get over it, bwk, ani found that he huu drop'gue? llarry. You Vauleverer are all pretty exit thou-and punis. He didat touzh about the rear of the heart. prim to have had much fun for his

"Well, good ni..114," said Haliy, money: a his articles, which give curtly; and walauad home to his him a goud deal of trubie to wat, rooms in Jermyn street, where he sat pot contouredly altered before they

noking in mu lancholy mond for nolie apared. It siuleniy siruck lum hour longer.

ti ya hting might be more er joy Perhaps I may as well notice at abe; so he stopped the mappe, in! this print, that the Lour full a tartal for (ower Within a werk Guy Luttrei's proplary with startin, le haud bxhit the cutter yachi sicuracy. It tainted up the town dy hunte-- winek, with grim stan like a huge firework made of n. faction, he re clirisiend the lun. Desium; it was alverinedd at ei in diner. motus exp. ; it's land, like 1-11


** who w.- a piher pomal allt,

piny, t.
A ...!!
To be du
11 5 141
lirewirtis, te bedenks'
Hot alit
I rum 1x dura! pihustini dan
Ada', kafe, an ******

lu baunt, tu iarth, Winn. Hands srth. MAY TIME and the cheerful dawn l'arer landen. Stately mansionistus were fremtitied in the leautita'. 1.1 1. o fart, ak!] 114 the river of n venteen wh rato

while I ; Whip 11.11% at chair by the man o Tu bo pa w.itten in Etka h.. torv. One dreaming over a suue in 11:11 Cote kontroprs, 247.48 in ofred. The river frin M.. mule am ! the luck woul, ulico Honey has many purn 11. . ! Dis (!!) luun), cheleted witil s'ity. It is ily love store lontant tl. wirial, and shadedly at Babam Abst, where the ti a mlp of ruir clars, comes to Primeas Enth wizkept in seiy dwn to the water. A small place, 111wly, and lawati photl114 burmiend, wiW-urilowed, cuvert i leer hwimbo wie Lokki to lie in l. #1! letti and Pr. lia chuy41; 1.t and write THEME Ixilliin a klip:n mall,'e and coach-bone, tome at Hedmunhar Ably. wlosow where in i kameros pny tyla's order of mock monke, ali i 1.00 pmover, itinarum; a fall quiet viern with trus pilli.eo sat tot, where is a lent, nt f. Pertan its le suty: to lovytora arly tuwing Th: 1.9 nates in the fatheti Teu Weslet Ly Grey dumaan: bere she due ley Regatta is kell, k**** cu lib umr the tute.amint of a kind 11.4

and Henley form. At this w frie w liat blant hoiy ily, B. the river wr mae fewer of the Hostert, les vitryan, L. villas y, star h's lun! 11:41.3.15 by inservi till!

her father, who generally spent one consumption of much coffee and Sunday in each month at Cedar Cot- bread and butter that she saidtage.

“When do you expect papa, Mrs. What had Lily to occupy her? Herbert ?" Well, her studies, of course ; her " He may come to-morrow, Lily." readings in history and poetry, her "I hope he will. I want him so music and painting ; a choice novel to take me to see something new. I'm occasionally, sent down by her father. tired of this horrid river and garden.' Then she had her birds and flowers; The elder lady sighed. her pony, a frisky little fellow, but "I kvow what you'll tell me,” conquite safe either to ride or drive. She tinued Lily, impetuously. “You'll had no companions except Mrs. Her- say that you have tried it all, anı! bert, a stately, thoughtful lady,, on don't like it a bit ; that balls, and whom the shadow of a great melau- plays, and parties are all wearisome choly seemed to have fallen. She and stupid ; that to live in a quiet knew nothing of the world, exiept cottage by one's self is the nicest from books; she had never seen a thing in the world. O yes, you have newspaper ; she dwelt in utter igno- tried it, and got tired of it; one tires rance in this happy valley by the of everything, I suppose. Besides, I'm Thames.

young, you know ; didn't you enjoy Is it wise, we may ask, to isolate a such things when you were young! young creature in this fashion? Lily I dare say when I'm twice as old I was joyous enough for many a day shall be telling somebody else just together, flitting about that quaint what you tell me. Poor young thing, garden, "a phantom of delight;" but how I pity her." there came times when she longed to Lily stopped, breathless, and Mrs. see something of that outer world in Herbert smiled at her impetuosity. which her father dwelt. She idolized “Well, Lily," she said, "I am glas! her father, in whom she thought she you have some one else to pity besides saw a superior being. Even Mrs. yourself.” TIerbert was enthusiastic in his praise. “I certainly will tell papa that I But then this beloved father was her shall run away unless he takes me to yaoler too; he would not let her leave London. Why, I could take the boat her pretty prison. She grew discon- and row down to London Bridge by tented amid thoughts like these. De- myself.” sides, she was seventeen; at that age

They'd think you were the Lady the girl's heart is a rosebud, but a of Shalott come again,” said Mrs. rosebud really to open to its blushing Herbert. core. So there were days when Lily “I am half-sick of shadows,” reyearned, and pouted, and grew dis- plied Lily; "I want to see the world. contented, and even thought of run- I dare say I shall be very glad to get ning away, only she was afraid. And back again, but I must get out." then she scolded herself for being so After which she walked out of the wicked, and wished papa would coine, open window to the lawn, and comthat she might confess her naughti- menced feeding her pigeons with ness ; for the child used always to bread. Very pretty she looked there; confess, whereupon Mr. Grey was her fair hair fluttered by the breeze won't to laugh pleasantly, and tell from the river, while the birds, innuher that if she ran away she would merable of hue, flashed down from soon be brought back, and sent to bed chimney and roof. “Why should that in disgrace. Mr. Grey knew human child be unhappy ?” thought Mrs. nature pretty well, yet he did not Herbert, as she watched her from quite understand his daughter. How the window. “It is right that I should be ?

should be unhappy; I have made my The tinkle of the breakfast-room own misery ; but poor Lily deserves bell caused Lily to spring from her a better destiny." seat, dropping Tennyson on the grass, About noon an event happened. of course, and trip gaily into the Lily was on the Thames in her boat, house. She brought a healthy girlish its keel crushing the wide flat leaves appetite to her wholesome country of the yellow water-lily. A messenbreakfast. It was not till after the ger from the Ferry Inn reached M19. Herbert, and asked her whether she with that unaccustomed caress. Hers had any opiun in the house. This was a strong nature, perhaps a stern curious request wasexplicable enough. one. She restrained hersell, and was Jir. Herbert often gave medicine, as silent. well as food, to the poor of the neigh- "You are not happy!" said the old bourhood. If a sudden demand arone man. for any unusual drug it was naturally “I have long ago resigned all hope suggested that she perhaps might of happiness," she answered. have it. Now, there had come up “Why don't you return home?” he the river from Maidenhead that Sa asked. turday inorning a party of Londoners, Home!" she exclaimed, excitedly; one of whom, ull, but hale, felt on “ you know I have no home." landing at Medienham Abbey a sud- *** How long is this to la-t! How den faintners. It was our venerable long do you intend to lead this life of friend Charles O'Leary, who, against concealment !". his judgmeut, bad allowed the ex- " While he lives, father--while he treme beauty of the sunmer day and lives." the high spirits of his companions to "And suppose I should die; what tempt him to the river. For years he will happen then! had been subjert to slight attacks of “Oh, all is safe,” she said, hastily. faintness, which opium relieved, and “ I have been well advised. I have on this ocenion he found himself at made all things safe." Medmenham very faint, and having " But, Elith," went on O'Leary, in a left his pull bux behind. O for a kinder tone, " why not come and live grain of opium! Tanered was not with me! I can't lart much longer, worse off in the Desert; but the laut. It's a matter of months, I expect, larly of the littir inn thought of Mrs. with me, that crossing the Styx.' Herbert, a skiful admin.atrix of "Oh," she said, with a shudder, " I medicine; and as that laudy was to dare not, I dare not." prudent to give away opium without "Why, he has forgotten you by this knowing what was to be done with time. I don't suppose he rullerts it, she went to the Ferry Inn berself. your exintence. It is a foolish fear

There she found the veteran jour- which keeps you from your old fanalist, leaning back in clair, nur- ther', fireälde in his last days" rounded by his perplexed cumpra- * You don't know him, fatler; you nions.

don't indeed. His spies are after me How well she knew him! She had stiil. I dread to go into the rond. not seen him for more than twentylle cared for me once-loved me, pero years, but all that time his kind, haps; now he hates ine for thwarting share wd face had dwelt upon her me him. If he found me he would crush mory. Would he knew liert the life out of me, little as there is

Yes; after a while, in the accus. left." to be grain of the most marvellous “I think you're rather a coward, of druz- operated on his aged brain, Elith," said the old man. “But you he recanited, in her chanzd aunte. must have your own way. You nance and mature form, the daughter always hud, and it has made you he had bent. Last' yet pot utterly ; miserable for life." he knew that she lived, but he had ** Toe trur, father," she said. “But become almost below of ever reeir I must go ; and your friends will be her more. It was a curious merting thinhing you are wote." for that inn parlour.

Sois. Lend the father and daughter His comrades finding him in good who had not met for almost a quarter han were already away on the of a urnitury. river-side lawn, stoking, anı quench- It may well be supposed that ing their thirt frim the frothing ('larles O'Leary's converse with his

*ter. When the last of them leit frirms that summer afternoon was the time sin he was plient for some mo. not prremely of its usual character. ments; then he eard

The old man became cluent in** Kiss me, Erlith."

spired; his thougi.ts were lifted to a A stranger lewhing on might have leftier sphere; he quite amazed that perceived that she altuust hop.ske down carek * (Tew of journalista am 118


whom he was almost always gay as child, there are no adventures in these a boy, though the eldest of them were times of railway and telegraph. It mere boys to him.

would be very humiliating to be “By Jove, Frank,” said Fitzheron stopped by the county police and to d'Orville, as they got into a han- brought home.” som at Paddington that night, “I "Well, papa, you need not laugh hope old Charley isn't going to hook at me. But tell me, when are you it.

going to take me out somewhere ? It was a serious remark for Fitz- “ Take you to London, you mean, heron.

Lily. As to taking you out, why I'll Whether Edith Herbert, in the soli: row you up to Henley to-morrow, if tude of her chamber, wept over that you like, and we'll lunch at the Red vision of the past so unexpectedly Lion, and talk about Dr. Johnson.” brought before her, is beyond this But, London, papa, London!” she chronicler's knowledge ; but when said, eagerly. she and her young ward met at din- “You must be patient, Lily, if you ner, she was as composed and serene can; just a little longer. The time as usual. In the evening a crescent must soon come; sooner than I like.” moon rose bright above the beech “I see how it is," said Lily, sorwoods, silvering sinuous Thames; rowfully; "you are ashamed and they wandered on the lawn in the “Not exactly, child. Perhaps, befreshening air; and Lily, whose clearing your father, I have even a higher soprano voice was one of her father's opinion than you deserve of you. I chief delights in his rare visits, sang think you rather pretty, and rather sweetly, yet sadly

intellectual, and very tolerably be" that I were where I would be!

haved, and altogether a nice little Then I should be where I am not ;

party. No, Lily, I'm not at all But where I am, there I must be,

ashamed of you.” And where I would be I can not."

Nor, indeed, was there any reason.

A prettier creature never played those "You have not forgotten your pretty tricks wherewith a loving foolish fancies, then, Lily,” said Mrs. daughter delights the paternal heart. Herbert.

He was a handsome man; she bore “ Is it likely?" she said. “No, no, his beauty in a soft and piquant fano. But papa will come to-morrow shion. And as she sat on his knee --papa will come; and I shall tell and pulled his long moustache, they him I mean to run away, and won't made a very pretty fireside group. he be sorry?”

Mrs. Herbert thought so, and sighed. And thereupon she began defiantly “Rise early, Lily," said Mr. Grey, carolling

when bedtime came. “We'll pull “Over the water to Charlie.” up to Henley after church ; lunch is

ordered.” Even while she sang the Jacobite Mrs. Herbert returned to the room ballad, the plash of oars was heard in after Lily had left. the water, and Mr. Grey's voice fol- "I

saw him to-day,” she said. lowed. He had got away earlier “Him! Whom?" asked he, with than usual, and taken a boat from an amused face. “You have so many Henley, so as to have two nights in- hims.” stead of one at home. It was a “Mr. O'Leary,” she answered, sinkpleasant surprise to Lily, whose dis- ing into a chair. content disappeared when her father * Oh, only your father. Well, my came home.

dear Mrs. Herbert, you might have “So you want to be over the wa- seen him without danger any time ter,' Lily, do you ?” said he, as he these twenty years.” sipped his coffee. “Is there any par- “You are wrong-I am sure you ticular Charlie in the case ?"

are wrong.” “Oh, papa, you know there isn't; "It is useless to argue with you, I but I'm very tired of this place when know. If you hadn't seen the old you are not here."

gentleman to-day, I should have had “And you really mean to run to tell you that I saw him not long away ? Mount your Exmoor and ride ago, and thought him uncommonly in quest of adventures? My dear well for his years." VOL. LXV,-NO, CCCLXXXV.


“He is failing, I fear."

nice little filly, but quite unformed; “ The more reason for you to go by the way, has Grey got any and live with him. I think it's your nioney ??" duty. You know I've always said "Well," persisted Mrs. Herbert, 80.

"she ought to have friends of her own "I cannot do it," she answered. sex.” “I dare pot."

* And how is she to get them? I She spoke szain

don't want to get into intercourse “Do you think it wise to keep Lily with the people about here, you know. shut up here!"

Besides, it is too late. No, let Lily "Do you ask me that seriously ?" grow up a little farther into woman. he retortedl

, bastily. "Do I think it hood, and then I'll take a house in wisel I know its confoundedly foolish. town, and make her its mistress. But what am I to do!"

There's no help for it. I dare say " Take a house near London. Or the poor child will get tired of that if that won't do, come down oftener, too. and sometimes bring a friend." "Then she can come back here,"

“A young jackanapes, to teach her said Mrs. Herbert. flirtation. Thank you. I can imagine "To spend her honeymoon, I supthe teliow saying to his acquaintances, pose you mean," said Mr. Grey with "Grey tok me down to his place the a rather melancholy smile. other day; trotted out his daughter;

CHAPTER VIIT. *ay for siccan quarters

As I gat yesternight!"--King James V. HALF A-DOZEN years earlier than the It was in Wiltshire. This county events already narrated, a gentleman has many beautiful spots and many who has become rather tired of antiqne monuments; but its treeless, society determined on a pedestrian chalk-white roads across the downs tour through some of England's west- are very wearisome. Fitzmaurice had ern and south-western counties. He crossed Salisbury Plain ; looked once called himself Arthur Fitzmaurice. again at the mystic rugged grandeur He carried a double barrel and a of Stonehenge; and, leaving Amesknapsack, and was followed by a bury on his left, had reached & hamlet greyhound and a setter. Thus ac. lying beside the little river Avon. contred and accompanied, he did his for about fifteen miles he and his thirty or forty mies a day with ease dogs had not seen a drop of water. and satisfaction, keeping at village The dogs rushed into the stream, inns or wayside farms, and thoroughly bathing and drinking delightedly; fajnying the change from his London and he, after quenching his thirst life. He was a man who, in his time, from the same sourie, looked rainly had triel most excitements, and tired around for a wayside inn or publicof most. The natural homely rim- house. The bamlet bad no such es. plicity which he found in the thinly. tablishment. It was afternoon. Fitzpopulated districts lying far from maurice was tired and hungry, and railways, was to him a nwelty and a felt strongly disinclined to go forward. delight Iceldon-street, that ancient So he inquired at the village shop Roman ran which traversa Berk where he could get a bed. shire, was rather different from the "Ye must go back to the Druid's streets of Belgravia, frumn Pall Mall Arms,' or keep on to Saram," said a and Piccalily: He thought Stope. mnt ancient lady, who seemned to benge preferable to the House of flourinh ly the sale of tallow candles Parlament. He ate the pork chops and puppermint lezenges and drank the struna ar of the cotin- * Wły, granny," said a stout young try with a mh which he had long maiden of furty, tand faced and thick cravel to fri for the lov at dinner hearinel, "dater think old Withers cald grt at his cluh. He bad not of the Gianz ind give the gentleman many unusual adventures; but one a suppet and a lel" be bad, whi... was a settler.

"An' who'd sleep amid all the

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