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“I understand now what he meant, what he tried to tell me, what I was to forgive if ever it came to me. He meant to have told me before, he said ; he was sorry that he had not. Ya, father, I see. While we were in France there was no need for me to know, and when “If he had told me, if he had said a kind word of them, I should have been pre- pared forit and loved them just because they were mother’s people. 011, father, whatever your motive may have been, you did me a grievous wrong,” she said, and into her eyes there crepta hard, strange look of resent- ment toward the father who had kept his se~ cret from her. Then, as her thoughts went backward to the little state room where her father died, and the words he said to her, she cried out Such were Reinette’s ideas of her mother’s friends, which her father had suffered her to cherish, only smiling faintly at some of her extravagant speculations, but never con- tradicting them. And now, in place of dukes and duchessess, or, at least, of lords, and ladies, and English nobility, to have these people thrust upon her,this grandmother, and aunt, and cousin, with unmistakable marks of vulgarity stamped upon them,was too much, and for a time the proud active girl rebelled against it with all the fierceness of her nature, while, mingled with her bitter humiliation, was another, a better and deeper feeling, which hurt hér far more than the mortificaâ€" tion of knowing that she was not what she, believed herself to be. Her father,whom she‘ had so loved, and honored, and believed in, ‘ had not dealt fairly With her. Why had he not told her the truth, espec- ially after he knew they were coming to America, and that she must certainly know it for some time. THE TWO REINETTES. ' “Oh, how lovely it is 1” she cried, as she entered the room and took it all in as rapidly as Phil himself could have done. “What per- ect taste Mr. Beresiord must have 1” she continued. l‘It is just as 1 would have ex- cept the blue ribbons, which do not suit my black face. But I c in soon change them, and then everything will he faultless ; andâ€"ohâ€" ohâ€"the cats l” sh. screamed, as she caught sight of Mrs. Speckle, who, with her three children, was purring contentedly in the cushioned armchair hy the window. “Cats ! and I love them so much ; he has remem- bered everything 1” and bounding across the floor, Reinette knelt by the chair and buried her face in the soft fur of the kittens, who, true to their feline instincts, recognized in her efriend, and began at once to play with her flowing curls, and pat her neck and ears with their velvety paws, while Mrs. Speckle, feeling a little crowded, vacated the chair and seated herself upon the Windowâ€"stool, where Phil saw her when he rode by. “Among Reinette’s books there was also an old copy of “ The Lady of the Lake,” on the fly-leaf of which was written in a. very pretty hand, ”Margaret. From her sister Mary. Christmas, 18â€". ” This was the only link between herself and her mother’s family which Reinette possessed, and she guarded it religiously, building upon it a multitude of theories with regard to the Aunt Mary whom she meant some time to find, and whom she always saw clad in velvet, and jewels, and old lace, and possibly with a coronet on her brow. By In". Mary J. Holmes, author of “Tempest and Sunshine.” “ Ethelyn’s Mistake,” “ Forrest House," etc. The sight of the cats carried Reinette back to the day when her father had written his directions to Mr. Beresford and she had made suggestions. How careful she had been to remember all her likes and dislikes, and how pale and tired he had looked after the letter was finished, and how unjust and thought- less she had been to feel aggrieved because he said he was not able to drive with her in the Bois de Boulogne after dinner was over. And now he was dead. and she was alone in a strange. new world, with only Mr. Beresford for a friend, unless it were those people who claimed herâ€"those people of whom she had never heard, and against whom she rebelled with all the strong force of her imperious nature. She had not had time to consider the matter seriously ; but now alone in her own room, with the door shut between her and the outside world, it rose before her in all its magnitude, and for a time drove every other feeling from her. The proud aristocratic part of her nature was in the ascendant, and battled fiercely against her better self. It was not possible, she thought, that these peopleâ€"that loud-voiced old lady, who used such dreadful grammar and called her Ren- net, and the Aunt Lyddy Ann. who looked like a bar-maid, and the tall showily dressed Anna, with the yellow plume, the cheap lace scarf, and the loud hat. such as only the common girls of Paris wearâ€"were reallv the relatives of her beautiful mother, who she had always supposed was an English woman, and whom she had cherished in her heart as everything that was pure. and lovely, and refined. Her father had said of her once : And she never did ; but she almost wor- shipped the beautiful face, which had been painted on ivory in Paris when her mother was a bride and had rooms at the Hotel Meu- rice. It was a fair, lovely face, with hair 'of golden brown, and great tender eyes of lus- trous blue. with a tinge of sadness in them, as there was also in the expression around the sweet mouth just breaking into a smile. The dress was of heavy, creamy satin, with pearls upon the snowy neck and arms, and on the wavy hair. A high-bred, aristocratic face, Reinette thought, and in spite of her father’s evident dislike of her mother’s friends, she never for an instant had thought of them as other than fully her equals' in position and social standing. Probably thele had been some quarrel which had resulted in lasting enmity, or her mother might have been the daughter of some nobleman, and eloped with the young American, thus incurring the life- long displeasure of her family. This last was Reinette’s pet theory, and she had more than once resolved that when she was her own misâ€" tress she would seek her mother’s friends, never doubting that she would find them, if not dukes and duchesses, fully equal to the Hethertous, who, her father said, had 111 their veins the best blood of New and Old England both. 3 Everything pertaining to her mother was guarded by Reinette with great fidelity, and in the box where her favoritie treasures were hidden away was a. long, bright tress of hair and a. few faded flowers, tied together with a bit of blue ribbon, to which was attached a. piece of paper, With the words, “My mother’s hair, cut from her head after she was dead, and some of the flowers sheheld in her hands when she lay in her coffin.” “ I never knew Mrs. Hetherton” (he al- ways called her thus) “to be gullty of a, single unlady-like act, and I should be glad, my daughter, if you were half as gentle and gracious of manner as she was.” Itis true she had never been able to learn anything definite of her mother’s family, for her father, when questioned, had either an- swered evasively, or not at all. Once he had said to her, decidedly : “ There are reasons why I do not cure to talk of your mother’s family and it is quite as well that you remain in ignorance. Mrs. Hetherton was evei‘ything that a perfect lady should be. You must be satisfied with that, and never trouble me again about your mother’s antecedents.” He had seemed very much excited, and there was a. strange look on his face, as he walked the salon rapidly, which frightened Reinette a little ; and still she persisted so far as to say : “Be satisfied then that you know so much, and don’t seek for more knowledge. What. ever her friends were. they are nothing tome; they can be nothing to you. So never men- tion them again." “ I ain sure mother was an Englishwoman, by hgr pictuge." _ QUEENIE HETHERTON. CHAPTER X “ Pierre you are all I have left of the life in France, and I must tell you everything. There was always a. mystery about mamma which I could not solve, and all I know of her was her name, Margaret Ferguson, and that papa loved her very much, so much that he could not bear to talk of her, and all I knew besides the name I guessed, and now I am afraid I did not guess right. I have never met anybody who had seen her but papa, ex- “ I heard from you that she was very beau- tiful and good, and died at Rome when you were born, and I think you told me she was English. Surely you would know about your own mother ;” and Pierre looked curiously at his young mistress, who colored pain- fully and beat the matting with her little boot. Reinette was hesitating as to how much she would tell Pierre, for it hurt her to con- fees to any one how little she really knew of her mother’s antecedents,so wholly silent and non-committal had her father been on the subject. At last, deciding that she must be frank with Pierre if she wished him to be so with her, she said : ,, “ And did you never hear anything of her from people, from strangers ? Did you never .hearjjvhere she came from, where papa found her ?" “ Never,”said'Pierre, and Reine‘te con- tinued : “ Yes, Chateau des Fleurs. I?- was lovely, and I was so happy there. Then, of course, you gever ggw g1): mother.” “ No, miss; only as I had heard of him as the rich American, who lived so extrava- gantly at the Hotel Maurice, and had such a, handsome chateau_in the ceuntry." “Pierre," Reinette continued, ”how long have you been with us." “Fourteen years come Christmas.” “ I thought so; and did you know papa. before you came to us ‘2" she asked, and he replied : we started for America it was hard to confess it to me, hard to destroy my beautiful air- castlee filled with a. line of ancestry nobler, better, even. than the Hethertons, and so you put it off, as you did anything unpleasant, as long as possible. You were going to tell me when we reached New York, you said, but be- fore we were there you were dead, and I was left to meet it alone. Oh, father, I promised to forgive and love you just the same, and I wi11,I doâ€"I do, but it’s very, very hard on me and I must fight it out and cast the demon from me before I meet one of them again.” Pierre had not lived 1n his master a family fourteen years without understanding his mistress thoroughly, and that 1n his heart be worshipped her was proof that he had found far more good in her than had. He knew just how kind. and loving, and self-sacrificing she was, and how she had cared for him when he had the fever in Rome, and her father was away in Palestine. In spite of the remon- strances of friends she 13had stood by him, night and day, for weeks. because hey missed her when she was absent and called for her in his delirium. It did not matter that the gay- eties of the carnival were in progress and that rare facilties were offered her for seeing them. She turned her back on them all and stayed by the sick old man who needed her, and who, the physicians said, owed his life to her nurs- ing and constant care. Pierre had never forgotten it any more than he had forgotten the time when. in a fit of anger she had poun» ced upon his back like a little tiger-cat and scratched, and bit, and pulled his hair until he shook her off and held her till the humeur, as he called it, was over. Her father had punished her severely for that ebullition of temper, and she had never behaved so bad- ly since, though she sometimes shook Pierre furiously, for by contact with some living thing which resisted her she could conquer herself more readily, she said : and when there was no one near whom she dared touch she sometimes gave vent to her excitement by whirling round in circles and beating the air with her hands. Pierre knew this pe- culiarity, and when he came to the door and heard the tem‘pest within, he offered himself at once as a kind of breaker for the storm to beat against. But Reinette did not need him. The battle was nearly over, for at its height, when it seemed to her that she could not have it soâ€"conld not lose one grain of respect for her father for having thus deceived herâ€"- could not exchange the ideal friends of her mother for these people so different from her- self, there came suddenly before her mind a fair, handsome face, with eyes as tender and pitiful as those of a woman, and yet with something strong and masterful in their ex- pression as they smiled a welcome upon her. Who was he ? Not the brother, surely of that tall blonde with the yellow plume and long lace scarf. That was impossible; and yet some one had said, “Here is another cousin," and he had acknowledged it with a. smile, which came to her now like sunshine breaking through a. rift of clouds and clear- ing up the sky. “Oh I if he only were my cousin, I could bear it so much better," she thought, just as Pierre came in. offering himself as a. sacrifice provided she spared his hair, of which he had so little. The whole thing was so unexpected and droll that it quieted Reinette at once, and sit- ting down in a chair, she laughed and cried alternately for a moment ; then dashing her tears away and taking the kittens upon her lap, she bade the old man sit down beside her, as there was something she wished to tell himâ€"to ask him. “Pierre,” she began. “it was right nice in you to offer yourself a victim to my fury , and, had you come sooner, I might have shaken you a. little, for when I’m fig hting with my otheyr self I always like to feel gsomegthing in my powerâ€"something which stands fogr that other girl I’m trying to conquer, and I was half tempted to take one of these little kittens and wreak my temper on that, but I didn’t, andI am glad, and am going to govern myself hereafter, for I must be a woman now and not a. child." “Yes. miss. that’s very good,” Pierre said, Wondering how he should like his little mis- tress if she were always as mild and gentle assglel seemed now, without any fire or spirit st . And in truth Reinette did seem to be fight- ing with some fee as she stood in the center of the room, her face as white as ashes. her tearless eyes flashing fire, and ‘her hands beating the air more rapidly and fiercely than they had done when in the carriage her grand- mother questioned her of her knowledge of her mother. That was a feeble effort com- pared to what she was doing now as she flew about the room striking out here and there as if at some tangible object, and sometimes clutching at the long curls floating over her shoulders. It was a singular sight and not strange at all that Mrs. Speckle, from her seat in the window, looked curiously on at the young girl acting more like a mad than sane woman, and the three kittens upon the floor, who, fancying all these gyrations were for their benefit, jumped, and scampered, and spit. and pulled at Reinett’e feet: and dress in true feline delight. Suddenly the door offened cautiously, and Pigr‘gg 1130ng Ion faying softly; A , “Please, Miss Reinette, wouldn’t you come out of it quicker if you was to shake me a bit. I shouldn’t mind it a spell, if you didn’t use your nails, and would let my hair alone. There isn’t. much of it left you know I” It was the same young man, she was sure, who had held her back from the open grave. and spoken to her so kindly, in a voice which she recognized at once as belonging to her class. Reinette laid great stress upon the human voice, insisting that by it she could tell how much of real culture or natural, in- born refinement its owner possessed. The sharp, loud voices of the Fergusons, with their peculiar intonation. had grated upon her nerves, but the well-modulated, well- trained tones of the young man had fallen on her ear like a strain of music among jarring discords. It was when she was most bewildered and confounded by the unknown relations claim- ing her that somebody had said, “This is an- other cousin ;” but in her excitement she had scarcely heeded it, and made no response when the young man’ a hat was lifted politely fro_m his head in way of a greeting. First, the splendid bays, Jupiter and Juno, with which she could find no fault. unless it were that Juno carried her head a. trifle higher than Jupiter, and might be freer in the harness. She could not quite decide until she saw them on the road, she said ; and then she turned to thehmilk-white steed, her saddle pony, with which she was perfectly de- lighted ; she was so white and clean, and tell and gentle, and ate grass from her hand She slipped the chain from his neck, and withajoyful bark, King sprang upon her licking her face and hands in token of his hateful allegiance. Every brute recognized a friend in Reinette, and King was not an exception, and kept close to her side as she went toward the stables to see the horses, which Stevens_led_out for her inspection. Mr. Doggio, you are my King, and I am your queen. You must not run away from me. I’ll take such good care of you, and love you so much; and in proof thereof I give you your liberty.” ”i 8111â€" ’Stevens said take care of the horses. Maybe vou would like to see them; they are real beauties.” “Yes, when I unchain the dog," Reinette replied. “He’ll not run from me; I can tame him. What's his name ?" “King.” said Stevens ; and taking the deg‘s face between his hands, and looking straight in§o_ big eyes, Reinette said : ’ “Who are you ?” "Reinette asked, rather hayghtily, 3116. he rapped; “Miss Hetherton, you must not do that. He is strange here, and will run home. He has done s_o twice already. ” She put on her hat and preceded Pierre down the stairs and through the dining-room, where she found Mrs. Jerry arranging a very dainty-looking tea-table. with silver and glass, and decorated china, with a. basket of white lilies in in the center Supper would be ready very soon Mrs. Jerry said. suggesting that her young mistress wait till it was served, as the muffins would all be cold. Reinette was not hungny, she said, and Mrs. Jerry must eat the muffins herself. By and by she would perhaps have some toast and tea in her room; she would tell Mrs. Jerry when she wanted it, and she flashed upon the woman a smile so sweet and winning that it disarmed her at once of any re- sentment she might otherwise have felt be- cause her nice supper was slighted and she must keep up the kitchen fire in order to have toast and tea. whenever it should suit the young lady's fancy. And she was about to do so, when the coach- man, who was watching her, at a. little dis- tance called out : "No matter. He must be well known; a letter will find him, and I shall write and ask for this woman, Christine Bodine, for I mean to find her if I cross the ocean to do it. She knew mother, and I must know something of her, too, forâ€"oh, Pierre, my brain is all in a whirl with what has happened to-day; but I can’t tell you in here, I feel so smothe ed when I think of it. Let’s go to that ledge‘lfi‘ rocks yonder on the hill-side. We must see the sun set from there, and maybe we can see poor paper’s grave.” “Look. Pierre, what a noble fellow he is! Why do they keep him tied up? I mean to set him free.” “ I don’t know where she is, and I never saw her," said Pierre ; “ but the name brings something to my mind. Years ago as much as a dozen or more. when we were staying at Chateau des Fleurs I went with monsieur to Paris -to the office of Monsieur Oolignie, a kind of broker or money agent in town, and your father gave him a note or check of 1,250 francs to be sent to Mademoiselle Christine Bodine. I remember the name perfectly, Christine Bodine, because it rhymed, and I said it to myself two or three times. but who she was or where she lived I didn’t know ; only master's face was very dark, and he was silent and gloomy all the day. and I thought maybe Mademoiselle Bodine was some women to whom he had to pay money, whether he liked it or not. You know many fine gentleman do that.” Meanwhile Beinette went on her way, through the back yard toward the ledge of rocks. when suddenly she heard a. pitiful whine, and turning saw the dog tugging at his chain to get away. In an instant she was at his side, with her arms around his neck, while she cried: cept the nurse Christine Bodine, who ,was with her when she died, and who brought me to Paris, She, too, left me when I was a year or so old, and I have not seen her since, and it made father very angry if I ever spoke of her. She was not a nice woman, he said, and he did not wish me to mention her name. Do you know where she is : know anything 0 her 1‘” “ Christine Bodine, .and if living now she must be forty or more. Mother would be fortyythree.” “I remember that day so well," he contim ued, because the emperor. and empress, and prince imperial were all driving through the streets, and your father remarked to a friend, who said something sneering of their majes- ties as if they were up-starts and not the real at all, that it pleased him to know that they were not born in their present high position, for it showed that democracy could rise to the top even in monarchical France. I remember, too, that he bought you a big wax doll in the Palais Royal, and although you were in bed when we returned to the chateau, he had you up to give it to you, and fondled and caressed you more than usual as if mak- up “for something." Surely there could have been nothing be- tween him and her nurse, Christine, which should make him curse her. Pierre did not understand English well; it was easy for him to blunder, though he had not done so in the name “Christine Bodine" to whom her father had sent money. Why had he done so, and where was Christine now ? She had known her mother, and Reinette meant to find her it it should cost her half her fortune. Turning to Pierre, she said: , “This money agent. this Polignie. is still in Paris ?” “Yes, miss, I think so." “And you know his address ?” “I know where we went that day your father paid the money.‘ but he may have moved since many times.” Reinette’s eyes were full of tears at these reminiscences of Pierre’s, but she forced them back. and said : ~ “ You have no idea. where Christina is now ?" “ None whatever, but I think monsieur heard from her or of her when we were in Liverpool waiting to sail. You remember that several letters were forwarded to him, and one excited him very much. I was in the room when he read it, and heard him say something in English which I think was a swear, and I know he said ‘that accursed Christine,’ for I understood that plain. He was very white and weak all day, and that night asked you if you would feel very badly to turn back to Paris and not go to America after all, You remember it, don’t you 2" Reinette did remember it, though at the time she had laid little or no stress upon it, thinking it a mere idle remark, as her father was naturally changeable. Now she could recall how sick and sad he had looked, and how much he had talked of France, and she could see, or thought she could, that had she been willing, he would have gone bacNQ gladly. He had written several letters that night and posted them himself, and the next morn- ing they had gone on board the Russia. and he had taken to his be. at once and died be- fore they reached New York. Was it homesickness which had hastened his death, or was there something in chat letter which Pierre said had troubled him and made him swear? She could not tell, and with her frank, open nature, and great love for her father, was far from suspecting any wrong-doing in him which had followed him even across the sea. “ What was the name please? ” Pierre ”keg! apd‘Reilmegtie replied} fl , He saw that she did not understood him, and though he might have told her that her father had not always been the spotless man which she believed him to be, he would not do it, preferring that she should be hep~ py i} he ignorance. Mrs. Jerry carried up the wax candles, which she lighted herself, and after setting them upon the table and seeing that every- thing was in order, she stood a moment, l smoothing the hem of her white apron, as if ‘there was something she had to say. She had promised Grandma Ferguson to call Rei- nette’s attention to the patch-work spread quilted “herrin’-bone,” and which, as the work of a young girl, had taken the prize at the Southbridge Fair, but she did not quite know how to do it. "Herrin’-bone” quilts‘ did not seem to be in perfect accord with this little foreign girl, who, though so plainly dressed, and so friendly and gracious of man- Reinette’slong fast,and the fatigue and excitement of the day were beginning to tell upon her, and after forcing herself to swallow a few mouthfuls of the food which the good woman pressed upon her, she announced her intention of retiring to her room. Thus thinking, she walkefl back to the house just as it was growing dark, and Mrs. Jerry was beginning to feel some anxiety with regard to the tea. and toast, and the time they would be called for. But Pierre insisted that he dld ; it was Pill, and nothing else; and as just then Phil him- self rode by, the old man pointed him out to Reinette just after the how, which she did not see, and consequently could not return ; but she watched him as far as she could see him, admiring his figure, admiring his horse, and wondering how it could be that he was so different from those other people, as she mentally designated the Fergusons. of whom she could not think without a shiver, and whom. try as she would, she could not accept willingly as her mother’s friends. If she ‘eould find Christine Bodine, who knew her imother, she could solve all doubts on the sub- ject ; and she meant to find her, if that were possible, and set herself about it at onceâ€"â€"to- morrow, perhaps, for there was no time to be lost. If Christine had, as Pierre believed, been a pensioner of her father’s,and if he had heard from her at Liverpool, then of course she was living, and through the Messrs. Polignie she could trace her, and perhaps bring her to America to live with her, as something to keep fresh in mind her pastl life, now so completely gone from her. 1 "Yes, mademoiselle,” and Pierre brightened at once. “lie is quite the gentleman, the nobility, the aristocracy. like Monsieur Hoth- erton. He rode with Monsieur Beresford and myself, and spoke kind-like to me in my own tongue ; not as you talk it, but fair, very fair, though he do not understand me so well.” Pierre was growing eloquent en the subject of Phil, and Reinette was greatly interested, and asked numberless questions concerning the young man Whom Pierre'so frequently de- clared a gentleman, “He asked much of you,” Pierre replied, “and once there was something like water in his eyes when I told him how sad you were, but seems like he was ashamed to have the other one see him, for he pulled his hat down over his eyes, and said something about it in English which made them both laugh, he and the other gentleman who, call him Pill.” “Mother’s own blood relations, who can tell me all about her, though I mean to find Christine Bodine just the same, and hear what she has to say of mamma, Pierre, there was another cousin at the stationâ€"a young man. with such a fair, winning face and perfect manners. He was at the grave, too. Did you see him? You must have seen him. He was a. gentleman, I am sure.” “What was ms name ? What did Mr. Beresfordpa‘ll him! anc} Whfl'fi gid he say ?" “Pill I” Reinette repeatéti. “What a name You could not have understood.” “Yes, I do not quite know how it is, or why papa never told me of them ; some family quarrel most likely," Reinette continued. “He tried to tell me when he was dying. He said there was something he must ex- plain ; something he ought to have told me, and this was it. My mother was American, not English, as:I supposed, and these are her relatives and mine, and it’s nice to find friends where one did not expect them.” “America is beautiful,” she said to Pierre, who stood at her side; “beautiful and fair as Switzerland itselfâ€"the play-ground of Europe â€"and I should be so happy in papa‘s old home, if only he were here. And I mean to be happy, as it is, for I know he would wish it to be so, and I understand now what he meant when he said such strange things to me just before he died. He was preparing me for a. surprisewaâ€"aâ€"Pierreâ€"fl and, forc- ing down a great solo, Reinette began rapidly. “Pierre, did you notice those peopleâ€"those ladies, I mean. who came to meet me at the station ‘2" “Yes," said Pierre ; “they rode with you to the grave. I thought, maybe, they were the. servants of the house ; who were they, madenoiselle ?" “You don't yet understand how different everything is in America. There is no no- bility hereâ€"no aristocracy like what we have in Europe. Your son, if you had one born here, might be the President, for all of his birth. It’s worth and education which make nobility here, with, perhaps, a little bit of money, and Pierre, those ladiesâ€"mind you ladiesâ€"whom you thought servants, were my own grandmother, and aunt, and cousinâ€"my mother’s relatives.” “ Mon Dieu !” dropped involuntarily from the old man’s lips, as he looked searchingly at his mistress for an instant, and then dropped his eyes meekly as he met her threat- ening gaze. “Yes, mademoiselle, very nice,”Pierre said. with a, nod of assent, though, knowing the proud little lady as he did, he knew perfectly well how hotly she wasrebelling against these new friemia, and how it was her pride which prompted her to exalt them in his estimation if Bossible. It was very pleasant on the ledge of rocks, with the soft, rose-tinted glow of the summer sunset in the western sky, and the long line of wooded hills and grassy meadows stretch- ing away to north, and south, and east, as far as the eye could reach. Through a deep cut to the westward a train of care was com- ing swiftly into view, while over the tops of the pine trees to the east wreaths of smoke were curling, heralding the approach of an- other traiu, for Merrivale was on the great thoroughfare between Boston and Albany. At the foot of the hill the waters of Lake Petit lay like a bit of silvery moonlight amid the green fields around it, while further to the left another lake or pond was seen, with the Chicopee winding its slow course through strips of meadow land and green pastures, where the cows fed through the day, and from which there now came a faint tinkle of bells, as they were driven slowly home. Everything was quiet, and calm, and peace- ful, and Reinette felt quiet, and peaceful, too, as she seated herself in the “Lady 5 Chair” and scanned the lovely landscape spread out below her. “ Servants ‘2” and the dark eyes flashed angrily, for if they were hers~her flesh and bloodâ€"nobody must speak against them. "Servants ! Pierre, you are an idiot l" But it was not for him to express any opin- ion, so he remained silent, while Reinette went on: and followed her about as readily as King himself. “What’s her name ?” she asked. And on Stevens replying that he did not know, she said : There was a shadow on Reinette’s bright face. but it quickly passed away ; and sending the horses back to their stalls. she went, with Pierre and King, toward the ledge of rocks on the grassy hill-side. "Yes, mademoisélle,” the old man an sweggad, humbly, and Beinette continued : “Then she shall be Margery,,a.fter the dear: est friend I ever had except papa. She was so fair. and beautiful, and tall andI loved her so much. Oh Margery 9” she con- tinued, laying her hand upon the neck of her steed ; " where are you now, and do you linow how sad and lonely your little Queenie CHAPTER XI. ON THE ROCKS . REINETTE AND ME. BERESFORD. Reinette slept heavily that first night in her new homeâ€"so heavily, that the robins had sung their first song, and the July sun had dried the dewdrops on the greensward and flowers before she awoke, with a. very vague perception as to where she was, or what had happened to her. Through the window which ‘ she had left open came the warm summer air, sweet with the scent of clover and the newly mown hay. which a farmer’s boy was turning briskly, not farfrom the house. And Reinette, who was keenly alive to everything} fresh andbeautiful, inhaled the delicious per. fume and felt instinctively how much of freshness and beauty she was losing. But when she rose and, going to the window, threw back the shutters and looked for an instant at the lovely picture of the Merrivale “Poor little girl,” he saiKi, “alone in a new country. with such a lot of us whom she never heard of thrust upon her, I pity her, by Jove l" Poor little Reinette, she was mistaken when she thought there was no one to pity, no one to prey for her now, for across the river, over the hill. and under the poplar trees, a. light was still burning in the cham- ber where Grandma. Ferguson knelt in her short night-gown and wide-frilled cap, and prayed for the young girl, Margaret’s child, that God would comfort her and have her in his keeping. and “make her love her mother’s folks a little,” while at the Knoll, in a larger and far more luxurious chamber, Phil was thinking of his cousin, and the great sad eyes which, though they had flashed only one look at him, haunted him so persistently, they were so full of pathos and pain. “Dear mother. I do not love you one whit the less because you once picked berries in father’s fields and wore the cotton gown, and you seem near to me to-night, as if your arms were round me, and you were pitying your desolate little girl, who has nobody to pity her, nobody to love her, nobody to pray for her now, and she so wretched and bad.” Then, returning the pearls to their casket. with a feeling that now she could never wear them, she undressed herself rapidly, for her head was beginning to ache, and throwing herself upon the bed, drew the patch-work quilt over her, caressing it as if it had been a. living thing, and whispering seftly : Yes, she had lost her ideal mother, but the loss had not been without its gainâ€"its com- pensationâ€"and Reinette felt that this was so as she knelt in her anguish by the bedside and laid her hot. tear-stained cheek against the coarse fabric which had been her mother’s work. “ Mother’s dear hands have touched it,” she said. “and that brmgs her so near to me that I almost feel 118 if she were here herself. “Oh, mother, did your hands ever touch your baby, or did you die before you saw me ? Nobody ever told me. Why was father so silent. so proud ‘2 I would have loved these people for her sake, and I will love them now in time. But it is all so strange, and mother’s girlhood was so difierent from What I have fancied it was.” Unlocking the box. Reinette took out the exquisite necklace, bracelets and ear-rings which her father had bought at a great price in Paris, and which he told her her mother had worn to a ball at the Tuileries, where she had been noted as the most beautiful woman present. Reinette admired them greatly, and on the occasion of her first ball had begged her father to allow her to wear them,but he had refused, and seemed so disturbed and distressed that she had put them away, wondering why just the sight or mention of them affected him so strangely. “ Pearls and calico ! There’s a great dis- tance between them,” she thought, “but not greater than the distance between my old life and the new, which’I must live bravely and well.” Then. remembering what Mrs. Jerry had saidmf the bits of calico, she brought the candlel close to the bed and examined the pieces carefully, especially the blue and white one in which Mrs. Jerry had said her mother had looked so pretty. It was delicate in color and in pattern. but to Reinette, who had never in her life worn anything coarser than the fine French cambrics it seemed too com- mon a. fabric for the picture she held in her heart of her mother. It did not at all match the lovely pearls she kept so sacred among her treasures. Her trunks and boxes hadheen brought from the station, and in one of them were the pearls. Taking them now to the bedside, she laid them upon the squares of blue and. tried to picture to herself the beautiful woman in creamy white satin who had worn them and the girl who had picked berries with Mrs. Jerry, and worn the dress of blue. There was still a doubtâ€" a rebelling in Reinette’s mind against the new relatives, but Mrs. Jerry knew nothing of it. nor guessed that Reinette was not fully acquainted w1th all the particulars of her mother’s early life and marriage. ” It. is true; it must be true ; every- body and everything confirm it, and I have lost my ideal mother,” Reinette whispered to herself as she closed the door after Mrs. Jerry. But one idea. was perfectly clear to her. Mrs. Jerry had seen her mother, and her great dark eyes were full of enquiry as she continued: “Yes.” she answered. “Margaret Ferguson and I was about the same age ; mabby I’m two years or so the oldest ; but we went to school together and was in the same class, only she was always at the head and I mostly at the foot, and we picked huckleberries to- gether many a. time out in old General Heth- erton’ 5 lot, never dreaming that she would one day marry Mr. Fred. I beg your pardon, your father I mean,” she added, hastily, as she met the proud flash of R1enette s dark eyes, and understood that to speak of her father as Fred.was an indignity not to be tol- erated. “Yes, yes, I know; I see; mother did it. Mother’s hands have touched it ; and now go away; go away, please, quick, and leave me alone.” fiShe pointed to the door, and Mrs. Jerry went swiftly out, half frightened at the look in the young girl’s eyes, as she bade her leave the room. ner, bore unmistakable marks of the highest grade of aristocracy. Like the most of her class, Mrs. Jerry held such people in great esteem, and as something quite different from herself, whose father had worked side by side, many a day, in plaster and mortar, with honest John Ferguson, and she could not understand how one like Reinette Hetherton could care for a patch-work quilt, even if her mother had pieced it in years gone by. But she had promised, and must keep her word, and laying her hands upon it, and pulling it more distinctly into View, she began; “I promised your grandmother to tell you about this bed quilt, which ’pears kind of out of Qlace in here, but she sent it overâ€"the old lady didâ€"thinkin’ you’d ‘ be pleased to know that your mother did it when she was a little girl, and that many of them is pieces of her own gownds she used to wear. I re- remember her myself with this one on ; it was her Sunday frock, and she looked so pretty in it ;" and Mrs. Jerry touched a square of the blue and white checked calico which had once formed a part of Margaret Ferguson’s best dress. “I don‘t think I quite understand you," said Reinette. who was wholly ignorant of that strange fashion of cuttmg cloth in bits for the sake of sewing it up again. “You have seen mother; you knew her when she was a little girl: knew her for cer- tain and sure. 9" But for this all of the tongue Reinette might have ques ioned her further of her mother, but she could not do it now, though she returned to the bed quiltand managed to get a tolerably clear comprehension with re- gard to it. “Made every stitch of it, and I warrant she prioked herself over it many a time,” Mrs. Jerry said, and being fairly launched on her subject she was going on rapidly when Rein- ette suddenly interrupted her with: CHAPTER XII â€"Dore has completed a grand case picture called “Moses Before Pharoah.” What Moses played before taro is not shown. The napkin went into the Water with a great splash, and then back to her forehead as she said this, but her eyes were fixed on Mr. Beresford, who, not knowing what she meant by the berries and the bits of calico, said he did not, but continued, laughingly : [To BE CONTINUEDJ "Yes, thxee,” she continued, “and I fear I was not as gracious as I might have been, for I was so astonished to be claimed when I did not know for sure that I had a. relative in the world. Mr. Beresford,. would you mind telling me all you know about my mother? Did she pick huckleberries with Mrs. Jerry, and cut up bits of calico for the sake of sew- ing them together again?” “ It may seem strange to you, who did not know father intimately, to know how little he talked of his afiairs to any one. Even with regard to mother, he was very reticent, and never told me anything, except that she died in Rome, when I was born, and that her name was Margaret Ferguson. I always thought she was English, and built many castles about her and her relatives, and so, you see. Iwas a little surprised yesterday when they claimed meâ€"such a number of them, it seemed. Were there many ?” there many ?” " Only three,” Mr. Beresford replied, knowâ€" ing that she had no reference to Phil when she talked of “ these people.” Mr. Beresford was sure he didn’t know,and Ihe continued : ” Imust see you this morning, because father saidlwas to ask you everythingâ€"â€" trust you with everythingâ€"and I want to knowâ€"I want you to tell meâ€"those peoâ€"â€" those ladiesâ€"my grandmother said she was coming to-day to talk over matters, and how can I talk if I don‘t know What to sav 7’” “ 0).], Mr. Beresford,” she began, ofi'ering him one wet hand, while with the other she took the napkin from her head, and, dipping it in the bowl of water on the stand hesid her, wrung it lightly and repladed it on her forehead, letting a bit of the fringe hang over her eyes, while drops of water ran down her face and fell from the end of her nose. Rem- ette was not thinking of herself, she was in- tent upon a more important matter, and de- termined to have it 03 her mind, she plung- ed at once into the subject : “Oh, Mr. Beres- ford, it was so kind in you to come so soon when you must have so much to do, but you see I could not wait. Yes, thank you, it is an awful headache, but I’m accustomed to them. and I don’t mind, if you don’t. Mrs. Jerry said it waslhardly the thing to receive you in this way, but I am sure it does not matter. A girl with the headache cannot be expected to dress as for a dinner, and I can’t hear my hair bound up, though I might fix it a little, ’ and, with a dexterous, quick move- ment, Reinette took the whole mass of Wavy hair in her hand, and giving it a twist and a sweep backward, wet the napkin again, and spatting it down on her forehead, went Reinette’s head was worse than it had been earlier in the morning, but she insisted upon seeing Mr. Beresford, who was admitted at once to the room, which Mrs. Jerry made as dark as possible, but which was still light enough for him to distinguish distinctly the little figure in pink and white, reclining in the easy-chair, with masses of long dark hair rippling down its back, and awet napkin upon the forehead, partially concealing the eyes, which, nevertheless, flashed a welcome upon him as he came in, feeling himself a little abashed in the presence of this foreign girl in her pretty dishabille, with her loose wide sleeves showing her round white arms to her elbows, and her little high-heeled pink-rosetted slip- pers resting on the footstool. She on the contrary was as composed and unconscious as if he had been a block of wood, instead of a man, with all a man’s impulse to worship and admire. Strangely enough, notwithstanding his imperfect knowledge of English, Pierre under- stood the last part of Philip’s need), and his gestures were more vehement ilian ever as he turned to Phil, for whom he had conceived a liking because he could speak a little of his own language. and assured him that he was mistaken. Miss Reinette cared for him very much indeed, very much, and had asked much about him, and noticed him much at the grave, and when he went by on horseback. It was business alone which had prompted her to send for monsieur; later she would be most happy to see young monsieur, her cousin. Phil could not follow the old man readily, thought he made out that Reinette had sent this message to him, or something like it, and he changed his mind about starting for Martha s Vineyard that afternoon as he had resolved to do. He would see Reinette first and hear her speak to him face to face. “ Tell her 1 shall be there some time to- day,” he said to his more fortunate friend, the lawyer, who, nothing 10th to meet the glance of Reinette's bright eyes once more, was soon riding rapidly toward Hetherton Place. At this moment Pierre appeared in the door, bowing and gesticulating, and jabbering unintelligibly as he handed the note to Mr. Beresford, who read it aloud, while Phil said laughingiy, though in reality he secretly felt aggrieved: ”Yes, and proud as Lucifer, too, or I’m mistaken,” answered Phil. “Why, I really belxeve she means to ride over us all. Odd, though, that she'd never heard of asoul of us. That snob of a Hetherton must have been a queer chap." This done she attempted to dress, but find- ing an elaborate toilet too much for herI weak and sick as she was, she contented herself with a cool, white cambrio wrapper, with rows of lace and embroidery down the front, and bows of delicate pink ribbon on the pockets and sleeves. Over this she threw a. dainty Parisian jacket or sacque of the same hue, letting her dark wavy hair fall loosely down her back. She always wore it so when she had this headache, and she made a most beautiful and striking picture for Mrs. Jerry to contemplate when, in answer to her ring, that lady presented herself at the door to know what her mistress would have. Like most women, Mrs. Jerry had a hundred re- medies‘for the headache, but Reinette wished for none of them. Nothing was of any avail until the pain ran its course, which it usually did in twenty-four hours, and all she asked was to be left in quiet in the library below, where she proposed going to wait for Mr. Beresford, whom Pierre found in his ofi‘ice, and with him Phil Rossiter, the two talking together of the young lady at Hetherton Place and comparing their impressions of her. “Not so very pretty, but bright and quite agreeable, with a. will of her own.“ Mr. Ber- esford said, guardedly, remembering what Phil had predicted with regard to the imme- diate surrender of his heart to the foreigner. > 2"You see, it is you for whom she has sent She does not care for me." “If I was only positive and sure, beyond a. doubt, that mother did once pick huckleber- ries with Mrs. Jerry, and wear the cotton gown, I could bear everything so much better. Mr. Beresford knows all about it ; he will tell me, and I must see him first, for those people will not be long in coming to pay their respects. I’ll send Pierre immediately with a note asking him to come to me as soon as possible.” < What Reinette willed to do she did at once, and in spite of the blinding pain in her head, shegpeged her desk a:nd wrote as follows : “M1" BEBESFORD,â€"I must see you. Come without delay. hills and valleys spread out before her, a sharp, cutting pain across her forehead and in her eyes warned her that her old enemy, the nervous headache, was upon her in full force, and there was nothing for her that day but pain and suflering in the solitude of her room. Then, as she remembered What Mrs. Ferguson had said of an early visit for the sake of “talking over things," she shuddered, and grew cold and faint, and thought with that strange feeling of incredulity to which she clung : x “Mlss HETHEBTON." “ I don‘t know exactly.” “ Well, dat’s what bodders me, for (int nig- get saw dem nine pints, ahut up dis lef’ eye fur me, pitched de ole woman over a. bar’l and walked off wid his saw-buck an’ my Whitewash brush ‘to boot. Ef I had nine pints he mua’ have had ober twenty, an’ eben den he didn’t half let himself out.â€"â€"Marysville Appeal. “ I didn’t say 1111an or give him any back talk. but do ndder day Harmer, my ole woman, went to his house an’ borrowed hifi buck-saw, an’ when he came fur it I tole him just like he answered me, an' stood on my dignity.” “ Boas,’ said an old darkey whitev. usher to Mmshall Hogan yesterday, “ dare s a nigger up my way wet needs taken ca1e uv " “ What has he done? ” said the officer. “011, well, you sees. last summer he bor- rowed my ax for to split some kindlin’ truck 1111‘ he never fetch it back, an’ when I went ter get it he said, ' I reckon I got dis ex, 1111’ possesshun am nine pints of the law; deiefow dis ax am mine till I take it back; ’ and de dam fool nigger woqldn’ t gin it to me. Throwing [Bolton Eggs in the “’ulnul Street 'l‘heulre, Philadelphia. PHILADELPHIA, Aug. 25.â€"The rare spectacle of an actress being rotten egged was witnessed last night at the Walnut Street '1‘heatre.where the C. L. Graves Combination occupy the boards with the “Four Seasons.” During the third act, while Georgie Parker, as Susan Swectapple, a Yankee dairymaid, was singing a song. an egg in an advanced state of decom- position whizzed over the pit from the west side of the top gallery, ‘and came to grief against a canvas palmetto tree, a few feet from Miss Parker. The audience were startled for the moment, and the actress changed color, but did not falter in her song. Half a minute later, another egg, similarly disabled, was thrown upon the stage from the east side of the top gallery. The actress was intensely mortified, and finished her song with great difficulty and in a high state of excitement. The audience showed much displeasure at the deliberate insult to the lady and applaud- ed her to the echo-so much so that she was compelled to respond to an encore. In the meantime, ushers from all parts of the house had gathered to the quarter from whence the eggs had been flung, and a man was seen en- deavoring to secrete an egg in his coat pocket. The fellow was pounced upon and hurried into the street, when he was given into the custody of a policeman and taken to the Gen- tral Station. He refused to give his name or to assign a cause for his offence, and was placed in a cell to aVNit a hearing. Smile, oh, fortmie I" most sweetly upon Dick, my canary, and watch with the fond- ness of a spirit over my two lily white mice with red eyes. , Fill both my eyes, 011, fortune I with the plaintive poison of infatuation, thatImay lay out my victimsâ€"the men~as numb as images gravel). Lét die 1in and the rose strive together on my cheek, and may my neck swim like a gogse 91 the bosgm of crystal water. 7' Enable me, oh, fortfine! to wear shoes still a httle smaller, and save me from corns and bunions. Bless Fanny, my lap-dog. and rain down hailstones of destruction on those who shall huEt {hair pf Hector, my kitten. Destroy miné enemives with the gall of jealousy and eat up with the teeth of envy allflthose \vhq gaze at myistyle. 7 When I bow myself to worship. grant that I may do it with ravishing elegance and pre- serve until the last the lily white of my flesh and the taper of my fingers. A Save me fer wrinkles. and foster my Plgmpersa Shed the light of thy countenance on my camel’s hair shawl, my lavender silk; my point lace and my necklace of diamonds, and keep the moth out of my gables, I beseech thee, oh, fortune ! When I walk out before the gaze of vulgar men, regulate my wriggle and add new grace to fly gait. A FA fiflloNABllE ‘VGIVIAN’B PEA YER. Stre§then my husband and may his faith ang his mqney hold out to the lust. Draw the lamb’s wool of unsuspicioaa twilight over his eyes,that flirtation may look to him like victories, and that my bills may strengthen his pride in me. Ble'ss, 0h ertune I my crimps, rat-es and frizzles, and let my glory shine on my paint and powder. The attitude of the aesthetic lady is also worth describing. She begins by getting her chair close to the wall, and then sinks into it sideways in such a way that her draperies leave the outline of her figure plainly visible. Having ascertained, without appearing to do so, that this 'is correctly arranged, she leans her head against the wall, making the throat as long, and the back of the neckg as short, as possible. Next she stretches her arms to their utmost length, and crosses her hands so that the fingeis droop in a lank, dejected out- stretched way over her knees. Having quite completed her attitude, her immobility strikes outsiders as something to be wondered at. She will remain thus for an hour at a time. If she stands, she wears her arms behind her, with the fingers interlaced, or does the chimney-piece business with the top of the piano, for the men are sure to have already appropriated all the available mantel-boards. Enable the poor to shift for themselves and sang? ngefrqm _all 1pis_aionary beggars. The favorite point d’appm’ of the male aesthetic is the chimney-piece, which, fortur nately, was not in the Queen Anne style on this occasio or it would have been impos- sibly high. his is the attitudeâ€"Lean the elbow on the chimney-piece. Turn back the open hand, so that it may comfortably sup- port the side of the jaw. The head is thus thrown back, and the nose, consequently, is well in the air. It is one of the first les- sons to be learned by the novice in sesthetic- ism to wear the nose films. The back is slightly bent. and one leg is gracefully curled round the other. The thinner the legs the better. No mathetie must venture to be even comfortably round and substantial. When an aesthetlc grows stout he immediately turns renegade, and laughs at his former compan- ions. _But these minor affectations of dress a. '1$ bearingrfiade into insignificance when co â€" pared with the silly inenities of their talk. It is not to be transcribed in its utter, meaning- less twaddle. So conscious are even the ut- terers of the weakness of the rubbish they talk that they italicise and accentuate every third or fourth word they utter in the'attempt to give it even an outer glaze of meaning. 'l‘llE NE‘VES’I‘ FASHIONS [N hon! Don. It was my fortune to be present at a re- cent entertainment nt which the apostles of the Estbetic culte had mustered in great force. The afi‘ectations of this curious clique make them deliciously amusing to watch. The men are rather more ridiculous than the women and the women rather wilder in appearance than the men, owing to the greater freedom of the female in the matter of attire. r/ As to coloring the usual prevalence of sick- ly yellow-greens and unwholes‘ome reds was observable; and the eccentricities of form were too numerous to record. One lady,‘ however, deserves notice for the careful way in which she was upholstered in some brown moreen that had apparently done duty as window drapery for several successive seasons. The coiffures of the women were rufiled and short, the hair of the men towzled and long, and in every case thrown back from the forehead in a manner that must have taken years of careful tending to attain. Some of the men indulged in the feeble feminity of a. fringe. T00 DIANY POIN'I‘S F08 IIIM. Wen ? " I had nine pints of the law, didn’t I ? ” Yes." And how many pints am de law composed ‘ING AN ACTRESS. (Truth)