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Beinette had traveled day and night until she reached Thomasville, Ga., where her strength gaveout, and she was obliged to rest W“ 'Iflfl'y or'two. Her striking face and foreign air together with her singular escorts, Pierre and Arie, attracted much attention from the guests at the hotel, who were very curious to know something of her. But Axie whosepa-rt- ing injunction from her mistress had been “ to keep her mouth shut, and not go to blah bin’ abnut Bonnet," was wholly unoommuni‘ oative. except to say that the young lady was a Miss Hetherton. of Merrivale, who was going to visit her father’s plantation in Flori~ da ; while Pierre took refuge in his native tongue, and never spoke a word of English to any one. To question him. therefore, was impossible ; so nothing definite was learned with regard to the beautiful stranger, whose manner repelled anything like familiar ad- vances, and who, the second morning after her arrival at the hotel, started for Magnolia Park. Every other day the mail was brought from Tallahassee to Thomasville in an open vehicle, which was neither large nor comfort- able. and this was the only overland comv munication between the two towns. For» tnpately, however, for Queenie, a. gentlemen and his wife. who were returning to their home in the North, had come from Tallahas- see in a hired carriage. which was both cover- ed and roomy. and of this she availed herself on its return. Thirty years before our story opens, Mag nolia Park was one of the finest places in middle Florida. ~ But after the death of Mrs. Hetherton, who had been born and married there. and who spent a part of every winter in her old home, there was no one left to care particularly for it as Mr. Hetherton had lands enough of his own, to look after. So the place began to go down, and when the war swept like a wave of fire over' the South, it was left tenantless and unprotected save by an old negro, Uncle Sim, and his wife, Aunt Judy. who lived in the whitewashed cabin on the grounds, paying no heed to the rumors of freedom which reached them from time to time, as the terrible conflict between brother and brother went on. They were as free as they ever wished to be. they said, and all théy asked was to be left alone and left to die on the old place. So they staid, and did their best to guard the house yoi which they were so proud, and which, at two difieient times. was made a kind of hotel for the soldiery, who were scouring the country. A night and a day the Boys in Blue halted there, carrying 05 whatever they conveniently could of the many valuable articles With which the house was furnished. and one of them. an officer, having a hand-to hand fight with old Judy, who tried to wrench from him a pair of silver ,eandlesticks he was etutfiog in his pockets. He took away the candlesticks and also a black eye and a bloody nose which Aunt Judy had given him as a memento of his stay at Magnolia Park. By M n‘ 7! 1r ry J. flolmeu, author of "Tempest- md Sunshine." " Ethelyn's Minna,” “ Fonut House," etc. A week later. and a party of the Boys in} Gray swooped down upon the place and spent the night in the house and fed on Judy‘s corn cakes and bacon and killed Uncle Sim‘s big turkey and turned the once hand some rooms into barracks. but were pre. vented from committing as extensive depra» dations astheir predecessors had done, simply because, aside from the six legged piano, on which they pounded Dixie vigorously. and the massive bedsteads and chairs and tables. there was little or nothing to steal. Warned by the lesson learned from their first visitors, Sim and Judy had dug a deep hole at the side- of their cabin, and lining it with blankets had filled it with the remaining valuables of tho» house ; then covering them with another heavy blanket, they heaped dirt and sand upon them, and built over the spot a rude hen-house, where several motherly hens broode’l over their young chickens; After this, Sim and Judy lived in comparative ease until the war was over and peace and quiei reigned once more in Florida. Then the pre- mises were let to a young Kentuckian, who soon grew tired ofi his bargain. and gave it up, and the house was empty again. When Mr. Beresford first took charge of the Hethcrtou estate, he wrote to Frederick, asking why he did not sell the Florida. lands which yielded him nothing. But this Fred- erick would not do. Magnolia Park had been his mother’s home, and a place where. as a boy. he had been very happy; and, as he could afiord to keep it, he wrote to that effect to Mr. Beresford, telling him to let it if he could, and if not, to let it alone. So Mr. Beresford let it alone. except when some one wished to rent a few acres of the land, which was the case when Reinette decided to go there. Then he wrote to the man whose plantation adjoined Magnolia Park, telling him that a daughter of the late Mr. Hetherton was about to visit Florida, and asking him to see that a few of the rooms were made comfortable for her. Unfortun- ately this letter was miscarried or lost. so that Beinette’s arrival was wholly unexpected and produced the utmost consternation in the white-washed cabin. where Uncle Sim and Judy were taking their ewening meal, aim feeding the {our dOgs hanging around t em. It was a long ride of more than thirty miles, but Queenie enjoyed it thoroughly. the coun- try was so different from anything she had ever seen. When she left Merrivsle the snow was on all the hills and winter was every- where ; but here in southern Georgia and middle Florida the warm spring sunshine lay on everything. and the day was like early June, with its clear blue sky and balmy air, filled with the perfume of the yellow jessmine, just in its glory. Tnousauis of Cherokee rosen were climbing over the fences and shown in; their white feces on the tops of the shrubs and vines, which seemed to embrace them lovingly, while here and there a. tall magnolia grew With its wax-like leaves of dark green. To Queenie, who loved nature in all its as- pects. every turn in the road, or change of scenery. brought fresh delight, and in her enthusiasm she foraot for a time her trouble. and was much like her former self, flashing and sparkling with all her old brightness and talking continually to the driver, a very intel- ligent young mulatto. who rejoiced in the dig- nified name 'of Boston. V It did not take Queenie long to get his whole history, for his boyish heart was completely won by her beau- tiful face. her animated gestures, and the way she had of looking at him with her bright, restless eyes. He was born two years before the breaking out of the wah. he said. and his father and mother lived near Tallahassee. on the very spot whar they was raised, and. he boasted that of all the hundred blacks on “ de ole plantation" his father was the only one who didn't “ out an’ run when do Yankees nomad an’ sot ’em free." “ Spec’s though, he wanted to go mightily," he said. “ so he wanted to see what sort of ting daft freedom was day was all gwine to see ; but he wouldn't leave his old mistis who was sick in bed.so he staid behime with me and mother, an’ has staid there ever since. gettin’ very far wages. and laying up a lime something every year.” “ Way, yes, miss,” and Boston turned quickly toward her. while something like a smile of acorn curled his lips; “ they calls it Magnolia Park, sometimes, but We more like a swamp dan a park, With all the weeds and truck grown thar higher dan yar head. Mighty big house, though. with heaps of rooma. but looks like old stable now -â€"-all de winders broke, au’ d6 do’os off de hinges. My gran’pa, an' gran’mu. lives dar, an’ has lived that always sense dey‘s born. Day’s drefiul proud of de ole hut, too, an' shot three or four dam Federals who’s tryin' to carry off de pianner." His mother. he said came of another line, and belonged to the “ old Marsell estate, whxoh was now rut; out an' gone to ruin." “ What estate did you gay ? ” Queenie asked, “ Do you mean the Marshall property â€"-Maquolia Park ? " QUEENIE HETEERTON. Boston had given a. rather exaggerated I0- CHAPTER XLVII. nAaNomA Pun. count of Aunt Judy’s encounter with the pur- loiner of the silver candlesticks, but Queenie paid no attention to that, no intent was aha upon other matters: _ “ I am going to Magnolia Park,” she said. “ I am Miss Hetherton, and granddaughter oi the Miss Lucy Marshall, who married a Mr. Hetherton from the North 3. -great many years ago.” “You don’ n say so, shu nufl, " Boston ex- claimed showing all his whlte teeth. “Doc-s ’em know you’ re comin’ â€"-grau' pa and gum ma? I’a over dar day befo yesterday, an’ they didn’ t say nothing about it ’Spects they'll be mighty oversot. " “I don’t know whom you mean by your grandfather and grandmother," Queenie said. “Who are they? and do they live at Magnolia Park ?’J )1 ”Yea, miss. Dey was raised dar, Boston replied; “bred and born many years ago when old Mas’r Marsall lived thar, an' they’s stuck by through th_e wah and everything.” “And are there no neighborsâ€"no people near 7” Queenie asked, beginning to feel a. sense of lonlliness at the prospect of a. park like a swamp, and a. house like a. stable with only two old negroes for companions. "Neighbors," Boston replied. "Yes, miss. neighbors ’nufi, an’ all of dam de quality. I‘har’e Miss Strong. de ole governor’s daugh» ter, what cried when dey pulled de stripped flag down~de governor cried. I mean, not Mina Strong. She’s de very fusteet quality, wid a. head full of brains : writes for every paper in de country, I reckon. She’s awful uice ; and her daughter, too, Miss Nina, with eyes a. heap like youm. an’ de same way of curnin’ her head like a bird, an’ lookiu’ at yer till you feel so quar. Specs, mebby, eh’ea yer kin : she favors you mightily." The day was drawing to a close by this time, and the sun was just setting when they at last turned 05 from the highway into the road which wound through the fields for a quarter of a. mile or more up to Magnolia Bark. And Boston looked admiringly at Queenie, who had bewildered and intoxicated him as she did everyone who came within her sphere. But Queenie knew nothing of Mrs. Strong, or her daughter Nina. She had no relations in Florida. she said, and the resemblance between herself and Nina. Strong, if there was any, was merely accidental. “ Dali‘s ’em ; dat’s de place,” Boston said, pointing to a. huge wooden building standing upon a [it‘le rise of ground, and surrounded by tall magnolias. Involuntarily Queenie held out her hand to Axie. who took it. in herstrong palm,and said, aucoyragingly g Attracted by the sound of wheels, the four dogs now came rushing down the road, bark- ing so furiously that Queenie turned pale with (right. and clung closer to Axie. But when the noisy pack saw Boston, their barking changed into whines of recognition, which brought Uncle Sim and Aunt Judy round the corner of the house. where the latter stopped. and with her hands on her fat hips, eyed the strangers curiously. Once it must have been a little paradise, but now it wee stripped of all its glory, and «hood there desolate and dreary. with the lights broken from the lower windows, while here and there a door was gone, and the shut hers hung on one hinge, or swung 1005er in the wind. “ It niay‘b'e better inside. Anyway, I can soon fix it pp, 39d the situatiop is_love1y.‘" “Sâ€"omebody giine to visit Miss Strong most likely, but why did Boston fetch ’em here." she Lhaught. But when Queenie alighted. and gomg up to her told her that. she was Miss Hechetcon, granddaughter of Miss Lucy Mara-hall who used to live at Magnolia Park, and th at she had come to stay. her consternation knew no bounds, and while dropping a. courtesy to Queenie, and saying to her, "Au’ shoo’ you’re welcome, miss,” she was thinking to herself. “For de dea.’ Lord's sake. whatever’ll I do wid sioh quality as die, and what ’11 I put her ? 'l‘har ain't a room in de whole house lit for a. nigger or a. cracker to sleep in. An’ she’s do .real stufi dat ladies is made 0!. Can’t ehes dis ehile.” “Honey," she said at last to Queenie, who was looking ruefully around her. “I’s no what to ax you to sit. down jes dis minute but. in my cabin, what I done scoured (Ia flo‘ dis blessed day y. If I had known you're oomin’ I’d done somethin’. " Queenie explained that a. letter had been sent to someone announcing her expected visit, and added. with a little shiver. “Let. me go to your cabin. I am very tired and chllly." So Aunt Judy lead the way to her quarters, which were as neat and clean as soap and water and her strong hands could make them. A pine knot was blazing on the hearth, difius. ing a delightful degree of light and warmth through the room. and Queenie felt better and less desolate than when standing outside in the chill twilight, which had suc ceded the warm spring day. Before entering the cabin, Axis, accompanied by Sim and Judy, made the tour of the house, deciding at once that to pass the night in that damp, cheerless place, was utterly impossible. Queenie might have gone to town and staid at a hotel until something' like decency and cleanliness was restored to a few of the rooms, but Boston had gone, and so there was no alternative but to sleep in Judy's cabin. This, however, Queenie did not mind. Rested as she had been in France, she had none of the American prejudices against the African race, and ate her hot corn-cake, which Aunt Judy baked for her, and drank her coffee from Judy’s cups with almost as keen a relish as she had ever dined at the St. Mau- rice. Once, indeed, as she remembered Chateau des Fleurs and Hetherton Place, and then glanced at her humble surrounding, there came a great lump in her throat, and her hands involuntarily struck at the air as if to thrust something from her. But she meant to be very brave, and when at last she was lifted by Aunt Judy into the clean, com- fortable bed, which had been made for her upon the low kitchen table, she fell asleep almost immediately, and knew nothing more until the morning sun was shining in at the open door, and she heard Axis and Judy out- side consulting together about the propriety of waking her. During the night, the old negress and her husband had been busy in the great house, and a small, sunny apartment, which had once been used a84a breakfast room when there were no guests at Magnolia Park, had been cleared of its rubbish and oobwebs, and swept and scrubbed until not a particle of dust remained. either on floor. walls, or window seats. As for glass, there was none; neither was it needed that bright morning when. the sunlight came in so soft and warm, bringing with it the sweet perfume of the yellow jasmine and the white orange blos some. The wide-mouthed fire-place was filled with clumps of Cherokee roses and br inches of the magnolia and pine,while long sprays of the jasmine were festooned over the mantel, giving a very artistic effect to that side of the room. The pit under the hen house, where the valuables had been hidden when the soldiers made their raid upon Mag- nola Park, had been opened and some of its contents adorned the room. while upon the little round table. placed between the win- dows. a small silver cofiee urn was standing, with bits of rare old china which would have driven a lover of brie-a-brac crazy. Aunt Judy’s chintz-covered essyechair, in which Queenie had eat the night before. had been brought into the room, and a soft, white blanket, with a border of blue. spread upon «he floor for a carpet. This blanket, which Aunt Judy had bought with the proceeds of her poultry yard. was the pride of her heart and had never been used ; but she brought it willingly for Queenie, whose grandmother, Miss Lucy Marshall,she remembered with so much pride ad the bells of Tallahassee. Cook- ing the breakfast fell to Axie’s lot, as she was supposed to understand me northern taste and know what the young lady liked. but it was Judy who made the hot corn cakes which smoked upon the table when at last Queenie was ready for her breakfast. “ 0h, 'thi: is lovely 1" she exclaimed. as she entered the room where so much had been done. Flotida was not I0 bad, after all, and Mag- nolia Park was charming ; but a close inspec- tion of the premises after breakfast convinced her that, for the present at least, she must seek quarters elsewhere. Rooms there were in abundance. and furniture, but e'verflhing had gone to decay: everything was moldy and worm-eaten, and smelled of rats. and must, and foul air. And still, as Axie said, there were great capabilities in the place, and with a little time and money. ands. great deal of hard work. a portion of the house could be made not only habitable, but very comfort.- able and attractive. Meantime, Queenie must go away, for it was impossible for her to stay there while the renovating process was going on. But where to go was a question which troubled Queenie not a little, until Aunt Judy suggested an idea to her by saying, ” That’s Jacksonville on de river. Why not go thar a syell? Heaps of de gentry from de Nofi‘ is thar, and a sight of mighty fine dresses at dem grand hotels. Jacksonville is a mighty fine cityâ€"bigger dan New Yord, I reckon." Queenie had heard of Jacksonville, for a family from Merrivale were passing the winter there and she at once seized upon Judy s suggestion as something practic able. She would go to that winter Saratoga of the South and see what it was like. Possibly she might be amused with what she saw and so the pain at her heart be ‘ lessened a little. She would go that very 1 day, she said, for she was full of a burning} restlessness and desire for change. But Judy, who, through Boston knew something of the 1 running of the trains, told herit was then too late ; she must wait until the next day, and pass another night upon the kitchen table. unless they could clean up some of the mas- sive bedsteads which had been so long unoc cupied. From this, however, Queenie was , saved, for while they were speaking. they loanght the sound of wheels, and, shading her ‘eyes with her hands, Aunt Judy saw entering 1the Park the carriage of Mrs Strong. The young man Boston had stoppedat thee Home stead the previous night to leave a parcel ‘brought for Miss Nina from Tnomasville, and he had told of the young ladyâ€"Miss Hether- tonâ€"whom he had brought to Magnolia Park. Mrs. Strong remembered well the tall, hand: some boy, Frederick Hetherton, who, when she was a child, had passed a winter at the Park, which was then one of the finest places in the State. She remembered, too, the stately lady, his mother, who had more ,, than once dined at the Homestead, and she had no doubt that the young girl of whom ‘ Boston told her was the granddaughter of that lady and daughter of the boy Frederick. 1 But why had she come to Magnolia Park so late in the season. and how was she to ex'si l even for a day,.1n that dilapidated, forsaken spot ? - “ I will go to see her at once and bring her home with me,” was Mrs. Strong’s first thgught! upon which she acted i‘mmegiiately, “ If I miasake not, you are the daughter of Frederick Hetherton, whom I knew when I was a little girl. Though several years older than myself. he was very kifid to me, and 1 have spent hours with him under the shadow of these trees and those in the grounds of my own home." The mention of her father by one who had seen and known him brought the tears at once to Queenie’s eyes, but she dashed them aside, and explaining that Frederick Hethefi ton was her tether, she led Mrs. Strong into the room which had been temporarily fitted up for her, and sitting down beside her she an- swered, as well as she could, the questions which her visitor put to her concerning her home in Paris and her father’s and death on shipboard. Ingroducing herself to Queenie, who ad- vanced to meet her as she descended from her carriage, she said : “ I had heard something of this before." Mrs. Strong said to her, “ for the lawyer who has charge of your father‘s afiairs at the North wrote to a friend of mine who is supâ€" posed to look after the old Marshall estate, that it belonged to a young lady, the only direct heir of the ’Hethercous. In is rather asorry place for a young girl to come to, but I suppose you do not intend remaining here long.” “"Yes; alwaysâ€"always. I have no other home.” Queenie replied, and her voice was choked with tests which she fought bravely back. Mrs. Strong was a kind‘hearted, far-seeing woman, and as she studied this girl, scarcely Qlder than her own daughter, and, as Boston had said, somewhat like her in appearance, she in: strangely drawn toward her, and felt too, that over her young life some terrible storm had swept. For a moment Queenie 39.1: as rigid as if turned into stone, her fista clenched, and her eyes staring at Mrs. Strong. who looked at her wonderfully. Then a tremor ran through her frame, and she shook from head to foot. “ Oh. I can't bear it I I can’t bear it 1" she cried, at last. “ My head will burst if I keep it. 1 must tell you the truth ; you seem good and kind, and I want a. friend so much. Mother did not die in Romeâ€"that was Marâ€" gery‘s mother ; mine is still alive and I had no right to be born.” “ I will ask her what. it is," she thought, “ but I’ll be a. friend to her, as I wish‘ some woman to befriend my Nina. were she here alone with these strange attendants." Then she said : “ I think I heard Mr. Hetherton’s wife died in Rome, years ago. It must have been at your birth." Then, amid bursts of tears and broken sobs. Queenie told her story frombeginning to end â€"from Chateau des Elem-s down to Magnolia Park, where she had come to hid from all who had ever known her. Had Queenie tried she could not have found a more sympathiz- ing listener to her recital, land when it was finished, Mrs. Strong's tears flowed almost as freely as her own, as she took the young girl in her arms. and. kissing her lovingly, tried to comfort and reassure her, while at the same time she administered a little reproof. “ I think you should have staid with Mar- gery," she said ; “ but since you are here we will do the best we can for you. And now you must go home with me and stay until some of these rooms are made comfortable for you.” But. to this Queenie objected. She had a great desire to see J aoksonville, she said, and was goipg there for {we weehser mere. “ Jacksonville, and alone,” Mrs. Strong re- peated, and Queenie replied that Axis was was going with her to see her settled, and then leave her with Pierre, while she returned to the Park to superintend the renovating process. ' “ There can be noharm in that. can there ?” she asked, and Mrs. Strong replied: “ Oh, no, it is not an unheard of thing for ladies to be at the hotel alone, but 1 think they usually have some acquaintances there, and you have none. If, however, you insist upon going, I shall write to the proprietor of the St James to have a care over you, and also to.some friends of mine, residents in town‘ whose attentions and friendship will be of great service to you, and shield you from the curious. gossiping ones who are to be found everywhere, and especially at great hotels. Cats. I call them. for they parlake largely of the nature of that treacherous animal, smooth and purring if you stroke tnem the right way, but biting and scratching if you do not. There are plenty of them at the St. James, I dare say, but I think I can keep you from their claws, if you will go. Possibly the change may do you good. It will amuse you, at all events. But you must spend to-day and to-night with me, as you cannot stay here, and to-morrow, if you still insist, you can take the train for Jackson ville.” ~â€"~Wheuever auburn ul' sum sses get a holi~ day. they go to see some other actor at some what theater. “ Yuu remind me, ’ Fewcen, the Mega manager of Covent Garden, used no say, “ of two prmonera, one in the Fleet. the other in the Queen's Bench, who always want to see each other when they got a day’s liberty." To this plan Queenie assented, and spent the day and night at Mrs. Strong’s, and the next morning started with Pierre and Axie for the St. James Hotel. [To BE CONTINUED.) BY J. ALLISTER CURRxE. Bespectably graduated from \a first-class college, with'the leekfive. dollars of my patri- mony wherewith to line “my pockets. These were my extrinsic advantagespandl enumei ate them repeatedly as children count their pen- nies and misers. their gold. with a vague ex peetation of inoreasirw.r their possession by the simple process of reckoning. But the bare facts in my case were very rigid, and not at all brilliant. I intended ultimately to study a profession, and would have been glad to commence at once, and make long and hasty strides towards realizing some of those high hopes which kept my brain astir. But as it was, I must advance by a circuitous route, if at all, for I was under the necessity of eating and. sleeping, and had no reason to suppose that society would tolerate me in rags or in debt. The first resource of such poor fol- lows suggested itself to me, and with many grimaces and shrugs, and prolonged whistles, and a fair calculation of other chances, I de- termined to martyrize myself to a school. Accordingly, in the course of a. few weeks, in the progress of events, and by the favor of several Worthy, elderly gentlemen, who were shrewd enough to detect my singular adap- tion to the employment, and my peculiar taste for it, I was installed at the head of a private school of young ladies in the flourishing town of Nottawa. Not having attained to a very venerable age, it behooved me lo eke out my deficient dignity by a proper and careful at- tention to externals, therefore I affected deâ€" licate whiskers, stifi linen, a. gravity of coun- tenance and a. perpendicularity of attitude which Would have disguised me from my quondam chum. All this, with the laborious uerneal of Blackstone; in every in- terval of leisure, was sufficient to make a model young man of almost any materials, and I believe I was so successful as} to approve , myself unexceptionally t3 the “ aforesaid " laspect. At any rate the school prospered and was likely to become profitable, and thus for a. single individual. at least, it would fulfil its its chief end and aim. One of the most important. though not the most fashionable, thoroughfares of Nottawa was Mill street. It radiated from the centre of the town, and with various aspects and characters extended nearly two miles before the crowded buildings melted away into the sparse settlements on the county road. As my school was situated near the rural terminus of this street, and my boarding place was at an indefinite and vexatious distance towards the interior of the town, I was not long in becoming tolerablv well acquainted with the 1.)thng stones, and other prominent featurts of the scenery which my unceasing daily walk presented. The school. as duly set forth in the. adver- tisement, was located in a genteel district, an adjective which very well described a moose- sion of smart, new houses of somewhat fan» tnstic architecture, surroundedby small, neai yards, and thrifty shrubbery, among which were often seen rather noisy ‘ and overdressed women and children. evidently well to-do in the world, and no ‘a little engrossed by local and social rivalry. For an interval the street, sunk away from this pretention, and gro- vclled and struggled on in ancient and con. tracted edifices. through unwholesome odors issuing from the low doors of the crowded shops, past multitudinous sign boards, which evinced strange shifts, and weak despairing efforts to earn a livelihood, and by many tokens of squalor and discomfort. and quite forsaken of better things, as might be seen by the occasional erection of a substantial block, which plainly indicated that antiquity and poverty were slowly ibut surely yielding to masonry and gold. Beyond this forbid- ding district aristocratic mansions rose in gloomy and imposing array, having doubtless so much joy and comfort within, that there could be nothing but blank dullness left for eternal show, and these in turn gave way to warehouses- and shops with hand- some windows filled with gaudy and costly merchandise, before which women promen- aded with beautiful and envious eyes. A little shop, neuter and sxmaller than its neighbors, attracted my attention. It had :1 marvelously narrow front of only six‘ feet, and of this the wiud‘ow«hud usurped so much to the prejudice of the door, that you were u. wonder to yourself when you asacended the steep and high steps. and were safely through the limited entrance. The apartment did not acquire any compensation in depth for its contracted breadth. but was abruptly ter- minated by a. thin wainscot and seemed to be supoorted in the rear by a room appropriated to domeatic uses. Every portion of the pre- mises which could be improved by ordinary industry, witnessed to the labor which had been expended. The glass of the window and show-case was scrupulously clear, the walls were covered with fresh and cheap paper, the the dust, even so close to that turbulent street could find negating-plaice: The articles for sale were a. jumble from haberdasherieq, millinery establishments, and toy sheps, but all were tasteful, and disposed with 9. refer- ence to artistic effect in the arrangement of colors and forms, which was an indubitable token of the cultivation and refinement of their owner. It is possible that these Specified \excellen- cies would have obtained little more from me than a, passing glance, had not their presiding genius been a. young lady of extreme beauty of form and feature, with a high-bred, though subdued elegance of manner, as unsuited to her circumstances as can well be conceived. The humble accessories that surrounded her, and the repulsive vulgarities with which she come in daily contact, instead of dragging her down to their level, only served to throw into conspicuous contrast her gracefulness and to make more strangely evident the polished accents of her cenversatiou. And over all was thrmvn the charm of perfect sim. plicity and unconsciousness, and a patent sadness that flitted in successive shadows across her sweet face, as it had not been quite able to drive all the native joyousness of hopeful disposition, and establish perpetual gloom. . . 1 The only friend" whom Oriel appeared to possess was her father, an aged gentleman of venerable mien. who still retained many tokens of the dignity and physical superiority which must have distinguished the prime of his manhood. His manner and conversation denoted long familiarity with polished and educatedcii‘c‘les, but aside from thebure traces of former elevation and prosperity there was nothing left. He was an old man broken Wealth holds many secrets past contro- versy, though they are not revealed to the street Walker, howe r keen his suspicious or penetrating hfs gsz ;‘5‘fit 'poverty has but scant covering for its deformity, and but a thin veil with which to hide its sorrows. The misery on Mill street would show itself, tnough not quite reduced to the level of star- vation and nakedness. It was not merely the effort to subsist, but to live decently. It was too often the struggle of humanity which could appreciate something better, which longed to do more then solve the problem : “ What shall we eat ‘2 What shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed ?” Thanks to me access of dignity which my vqcatioy forced upon me, and A ,Au A ,Aflu in part owing to a sympathetic senti- ment which was born of a. light purse, I was in the habit of noting the slight but insignificant indications which hinted at corroding cares. and crushing troubles, and fierce conflicts with destiny, and hoarding them for philosophical comment. From generals it was but short work to descend to particulars, and to choose from among the latter some prominent objeos of interest. I look back with profound admiration to that facility and hardihood of invention which devised excuses that enabled me ‘to call at the little shop almost daily after I had discovered the attractions of its keeper. Oriel Ellerslie, what a pretty name it seemed. It sounded in my brain like sweet music. uneeaeingly filling up the interludes of necessary duties. Some times it appeared writtenover scraps of paper on my desk which had to be watched and do. strayed. A degree of enthusiasm is pardon- able in a. your”,' man who laves for the first time, when especially about the beautiful ob- ject of his regard there hangs & certain mys- tery which dellcaey may not probe. ORIEL ELLERSLIE: 'down in body and spirit, with hope so crushed out of himthat hehad ceased to wish and struggle. Iiistless and melancholy, he went in and out oi that circumscribed apartment, wandering with a \veariness and dimness most painful to behold. All his remaining vitality was associated with his daughter. Her slight- est whisper caught his ear when he was deaf to the uproar of mobs and holidays. and what- ever concerned her was certain to be impressed on his consciousness. But that he ever busied his thoughts about her welfare except in an objective and passive way, did not seem evi- dent. Oriel caredrfor the shop and for the meagre domestic world behind it. She was continually'sewing on cans and dresses when the occasional customers made no claim on her attention. and though this tireless work- ing early and late was not fdr a moment sus- pended, it was plain that destiny had the better of the stern conflict and that unless it met some new opposing force, ould ulti mately overcome and destroy itsv ‘ctim. I believe I was using the last shred ofplausi- bility which common sense or decency would supply for so doing when I dropped in to see Oriel on a sunny. brisk, autumn morning. She looked pale and sorrowful and was sewing intently, though her eyes were ever ready to glance at the open book before her. It was Tasse. It so happened ,that I piqued myself on a practical knowledge fof Italian, having studied it under very fav ‘orable circumstances in early youth. There was a large class in my school which ad- vanced with such marked success as to add material distinction to the establishment. It was impossible to do less than to con- gratulate Miss Ellerslie on her acquaintance with that beautiful tongue. She at once dis- cl timed any considerable proficiency in the language, but she had been led'to revive her partial familiarty, with a study, over which she had spent many happy hours, by having listened to a bevy of my pupils who had been to the shop a few days previously. It irritated her ambition when she fell too far into i the background. She said this smiling,- buti the quick tears gathered in her eyes, and to‘ conceal them she carried a parcel across thei room. The hot blood tinged my cheeks when I was certain that she knew me. an agreea- i ble fact which no imitation by word or man- ; ner had before confirmed. I invited her to‘ join my class. and offered to fix her an hour for recitation which would enable her to do so. But there was no time during the day when she could be absent, and besides- she blushed and left the sentence unfinished. It was evident that she must not even incur the slight expense of such an arrangement. After a moment’s embarrassing hesitation. I made a plunge. " 11am never surfeited with Italian, and if you will allow me Miss Ellerslie, it would give me the greatest ‘ pleasure to read with you at any hour which may suit your convenience. as you already know me by reputation. I trust my ofier will not seem bold, and that you will accept it as freely as it has been made.” Her eyes sparkled with delight as she gave me permis- smn to call on my return from school, when I would receive her father’s decision respecting the proposed arrangement. On being intro- duced to Mr. Ellerslie. he said that he should be very glad to have Oriel amuse herself with her books once more, that he had in vain en- deavored to persuade her to resume her old employment, and that “he feared she ‘ was losing her taste for the ele- gant pursuits which had formerly been her pride and enjoyment. The simplicity of his decayed intellect was pitiful. I felt my lip quiver, while Oriel hardly restrained her emotion. The poor girl was indeed bearing liie’s burdens alone. The unremantic hour of Bi 3.111.. on alter- nate days, was appointed for the Italian, and Mr. Ellerslie always sat by the small1 stove in the corner, or stood looking abstractedly into the street during the reading. It was a very short time and admitted noby play, especially as Oriel was prepared to fill every moment with legitimateemploy ment. In a. little while one half of these precious thirty minutes was devoted to conversation, and never-did a for- lorn or hopeful lover strive to conquer an obstinate rhythm as did I to make our Italian subservient to our use. The parrot phrases of text books were discarded, and our usual thoughts were compelled to seek expression in a language, which. thanks to much study. soon beo‘une as flexible. as could be desired, Thus we talked 0. books and flowers and pic- tures, and as our familiarity increased, of more personal matters, of everything indeed but that of which our hearts were the fullest. My year was almost ended, when I called for Oriel on a Sunday morning, according to previous arrangement, and accompanied her to church. It was the first time for various reasans that I had ventured on such a step. She was handsomely attired in a suit which had certainly belonged to more prosperous times, and which fashion had not yet con- demned, I shall never forget how beautiful she looked that day. I read with her from the same prayer-book, and listened to the same sermon, but if her thoughts did not rise higher from the earth than mine,her devotion had no wings. We took a very long way homewards through elegant, shaded streets, and past lovely gardens, and before the walk was ended, We had both said words whose sweetness can only be tested once in its'prime words which placed her little hand within my arm. and which opened up to us a future as bright as ever two young, loving hearts looked into. I was to be her protector henceforth, and I was strong and not without resources. “ Oriel, Orie‘l, how have you lived?" was my involuntary exclamation as I paused at the door, and intinotively pulled at a shocking collar and cravat. But what a change 1 The threshold and windows were besmeared with stains, abominable odors of hot fat and smoked herring rushed in my face. and the stunning effects of parental discipline made all ring again. I darted, backward into the street, and being assured that I had not mie taken the number not the spot, entered once mvre the repulsive apartment. It had become debased to the uses of the most paltry of pa try cooks. The show case was broken, and the flies and wasps gorged themselves on unctuious cakes and adhesive sugar, or else- where met their fate in jugs of lukewarm beer or thin treacle. In expectation of a cus- The partial- indisposition of Mr. Ellerslie on the succeeding days prevented a formal application for his daughter‘s hand, which was to have been made. Oriel and I were doubly busy with our respective duties. I could only see her by snatches. but it was enough for me that she was recovering that bright hopefulnees which must have belonged to nerbat ter days. What they had been I did not know, and never inquired. She was alone, andI was alone, and our future was inde- pendent cf any modlfication by antecedents, therefore it was but wasted time to discuss them. My school closed, and I was forced to leave town immediately, in order to fulfil an engagement which had been made for the vacation with some advantageous prospects. Still Mr. Ellerslie continued invisible, and Oriel and I parted after I had slipped half my salary into her hand. never staying to hear her thanks or refusal. I wrote frequently to Oriel, but was not able to make any arrangement that would bring cer- tain replies, and I drifted from city to city im- pelled by circumstances which could not be foreseen. Only one little note, in elegant Italian, reached me. which contained no news. At the end of two months. with indescrib- able impatience. I made my way back to Nottawa, and being confident of the counten~ ance of several ladies of great wealth and high position, whose partial favor towards me had evidenced every token of sincerity. I was ab- sorbed with a plan which should insure to Oriel ease and leisure until her life's home could he prepared to receive her. Did you ever fall from heaven to earth, from secure bliss to harrowmg uncertainties and fears? Then your sympathv will be accorded me. Scarcely waiting an instant at the Station Huuse to shake 013 a thick coating of dust, which disguised both complexion and apparel, I made my impetuous way up Mill street. It was the last seething hot day of summer. The sidewalk swarmed with motley groups, a few well dressed strollers, swelertinglabarers, dirty and sporting children ; noise and bustling, and dust and flies, and intolerable sunshine. tamer a fat good- natured women made her appearance. Not many or irrelevant were the Wolds which explained my errand. “ Ls. ! are you Mr. Rowland? Well, I’ m dreadful sorry, but I had a letter for you, and to make all sure, and no mistake, I put it on the shelf in my best vase where I keeps my earrings, but he’who never minds woman‘s. trumpery. as he calls‘ em, tore it up for a pipe lighten afore I hadachanee to know it. and so that‘s gone.” “ But where me Mr. and Miss Ellerslie? ” “ He died of the hot weather, and even, there was a. dreadful thunder storm that night. and Miss called me in to help-I lived in the alley just back 0’ here ~and I shan’t soonfor- get how wet I got,f01 I must needs put on my barege gown, they being rather high sort 0’ people andâ€" “ What has become of Miss Ellerslie .’” I exclaimed. in an agony 0t impatience, it is folly to narrate the tedious rigmarole which informed me slowly and imperfectly enough that, not long beiore Mr. Ellerelie’s death a respectable gentleman. whohad highly recom- mended himself to the class of people form- ing the immediate neighborhood by a lavish expenditure of gold, arrived, and that im- mediately on the occurrence of that event he departed, taking with him the relics of the deceased and Oriel. But it was not known whence he came, or whither he went. No one recollected 1f the place of residence had been mentioned, much less any further particulars. Neither had the direction of the train which bore him from the town been remembered, evenif it had been known. My feelings were suchias might be expected. as during the following week I exhausted every means of information relative to Oriel without any consistent result. It was not very encouraging to learn from one person that he had traveled eastward, and to be con- fidently assured by another that the opposite ,eourse had been taken. Waiting. that dreadful )of all alternatives in some cases, was alone ileft me. while discursive conjectures, now ‘ harrowing and again hopeful, according to my mood, busied my weary brain. The post i was my only trust, but it brought nothing to 'the purpose, and indeed contributed to make [matters still more unpromising.‘ ~ To remain at Nottawa seemed my best and only course, if I would be within surest reach of the least sign of the existence and locality of my lost one, and even this poor hope was to be torn from me by an event which it was inexcusable folly and improvidence to con- travene. A communication arrived from To routo, purporting to be from a former friend of my father, who had accidentally become acquainted with my ambitious desire to pro- secute my legal studies. and with the embar- rassments which impeded my advances. He was himself a lawyer, possessing a highly re- spectable business, but desirous, on account of approaching age, to find relief from the more laborious duties of his ofice. He was pleased to allude to the favorable estimation in which he had been induced to consider me, not only in consequence of personal en- >comium, but because of my descent from ‘ the most excellent of men, and he was dis- posed to make the trial ; there would be no ‘cause of dissatisfaction on his part. He de- ‘ sired I would inform him by letter if I Would, be in Toronto on a certain day ‘and meet him at a specified room in the Rossin House, where all preliminaries ‘ should at once be settled and an arrangement negotiated. A year passed away in arduous and suc- cessful study without any event deservinz of remark, and that it was unchangeably over- shadowed by my profound ignorance of the welfare of Oriel. In vain I wrote to my chum in Nottawa ; in vain to ease the indescribable restlessness which would occasionally seize me, I journeyed thither in person. No one sinking in midoeean ever left as little trace behind him. as had Oriel on her departure from Nottawa. My cogitations were uotenvi‘ able. Had she forgotten me, or was she in the power of a wealthy and haughty relative or friend, who had taught or compelled her te renounce an alliance with a young man who possessed little save unbounded hope and a strong will? Why else did she give me no sign or token? Had she been waiting an answer to that letter so unfortunately destroy- ed? Could she have made conditions there on which depended our fate. and given me up because I was silent ‘2 Last but most im- portant of all, was she happy ? These with multitudinous kindred thoughts, feverishly wrought in my dreams by day and in the visions of the night. Sleeplesspess often made me pale and bag- gard. and my patron cautioned me against too often trimming the midnight lamp, but anxiety quickened my intellect, andI was able at the worst to bend it to severe labor. As has been said a. year had passed. It was on a gloomy autumn‘eveniug that I lingered in the deserted oflice. The wind .«oughed through the court, and wailed past the great windows, but a stronger ery rose from my innermost heart. Never before had I beenso utterly miserable. Mr. Worth had that day been unusually kind, My new friend had passed middle age but was still hale and vigorous. and bore about his person every mark of prosperity. That neither success nor the world had spoiled him was sufficiently demonstrated by the benig- nity of his handsome countenance and by a gentlemanly consideration for the minor points of my welfare, which so quickly touched a lonely and troubled heart. When he found on inquiry that I had but just arrived in the city and that my appointment had not left me time to dine, he smilingly ‘ ordered an abundant repast, and, caressing his g..ld-headed cane, entered at once on the business in hand. .Before the viands were disposed of, we had arrived at a full understanding respecting our mutual wishes and intentions. Mr. Worth made stipulations which at [once insured me, in conjunction with the economic virtues. an honorable independence. I had every reason for self congratulation on my business pros- pects. It only remained for me to prove that I could deserve good fortune. I was not insensible to the consideration, that so favorable an offer might not be re- peated in a life time, and that not even my devotion to Miss Ellerslie's fortune should deter me from entering a direct and certain avenue to reputable emolument by which, in time, 1 might reasonably hope to benefit her, if it were not madness to expect ever to cross her pathway again. A more disinterested motive referring to my whilome chum in- fluenced me. He was a clever, good natured. luckiess fellew. who never essayed to raise his foot until some one told him where to put it dnwn. Having genuine genius and wit, he had entered life buoyed up by no or- dinary inflation, expecting to sail high above those rough and disagreeable obstacles which must belaboriously surmounted by grosser spirits, but a year's profitless practice had nearly starved the inspiration out of him, and he was only glad to take the place which I was about to vacate. I confided to him the particulars of my romance, and solemnly charged him to watch over its interests, a service he cheerfully assumed. It then oc~ cured to me that it was a duty on my part, which had everything to do with his success in a novel position, to exhort him, to restrain his rhyming tendencies, and that concealing his facetiousnoss and sentiment, he should appear to his scholars and their lynx-eyed guardian asa linginstic, mathematical, and philosophical abstraction. and that other par- ticulars he should practice certain trifling re- orms. Punctually toa minute I was at the ap- pointed rendezvous, and Mr. Worth. my bene- factor, being equally ready, we advanced to the particularized spot at the ssme instant. My promptness evidently gratified him, and seizing me by the hand be scrutinized me from head to foot, while he conducted the usual conventional inquiries and seemed to discover nothing which displeased him or dis- appointed his expectations. My own obser- vation was likewise satisfactorv. " And find compensation by falling in love with a. pretty shop girl, who comes out of the mist to go into the darknesm I cherish your counsels and mark your example, oh. Solo- mon.” returned my friend, and giving me a. final hand grasp, left me to go my way. had spoken words of the highest approval. and made proposalswhich I had no reayen to expect. even from his partiality. But to what end was 1 living and toiling ? The young heart. cannot ask another question so bitter, when it listen}; vainly for a. reply. A nonvio- tion of my duty Would not permit of my deviating from the course of life marked out for me ; but the dearest hope had died within me. and it did not seem wrong to employ an occasional twilight in sighing 9. rcqujeni. "' " â€"r'-'./ ‘â€"1 ~-~ by your late and solitary contemplation in this gloomy place, He suspects ghosts. and I know not what beside, and has confided to me his opinion that all is not- right with you. I couldn’t believe you )Nere here. ’Tien‘t a place to be merry in; and it injures your spints, and in turn'your health, to grow moody. You are over wonked. Ah I take care I” Mr. Worth had stumbled against a stool in the uncertain light. “You must seek amusement. go to the theatre, it won’t hurt you. Young folks should be merry." 1 On that Queuing, to my surprise, Mr. Worth entered the allies. He usually went up town at all! early hour. . ‘ " I just met our boy on Queen street." 9 remarked, “ who told me that you were and that. you had a grim way of a ,- yourself after the rest of us are gone. ‘ gW‘ that boy is as much afraid of the dark mi’h is of Apollyon, and his superstition is affectqd J ‘Iâ€"Vsaia soome (Rewiring, mourfiful words whieh would not be repressed,and Mr. Worth was myrbest frieqtj. “Touble, eh ?" Not the hypo as I was afraid. We can manage a. case that has point and substance. Tell me what. it is my boy. and we’ll see what can be done." His gentle hand rested on my bowed head, and his kindly voice mug in my ear, and it was no wonder that I opened my heart and told him my short. and sad history ‘it doesn‘t look very encouraging,” he re- plied, in his cheery way. “I’m sorry you are disposed to brood over this trouble. I was in love once myself, but got over it. and so should you. I wish I could see a way to help you. At any rate, you should make the best of it. If she can‘t be found. you must learn to resign her. and for your comfort the sooner the better. I regret. my dear boy, that your thoughts are thus preoccupied. for I had cer- tain intentions in your behalf. I have a ueice as beautiful, 1 dare say, as your lost fancy. and I have been saving her for the best fellow I know. She is a. pearl, my boy, and it is my chief wish to see her your wife." ~The following story is causing paints feeling in Rome: A young man named Moretti, a tailor, was condemned to a short term of imprisonment for some alleged fraud in his dealings. A girl to whom he was beâ€" trothed went to the police magistrate to ask about his fate and prospects. The magistrate tod her that he would assuredly remain many years in prison. The girl, in despair, poisoned herself forthwith. Soon afterward Moretti was found to be innocent. and was at once discharged. 0n learning the end of his be- trothed he, too. poisoned. himself. The magistrate had sentenced him at the insti- gation of the girl’s mother, who wished to break off the match. ~The Rev. F. W. Fraeger, of St. Paul, says that a. clerical training totally unfits a man for mercantile pursuits. The rev. gentleman combined store-keeping with preaching. and before three monthl had elapsed he had forged a note for $1,600. “Not at pregantl; he returned, “not while your regrets are sq vivid, but in time you will think diflt-zrgntly.”_ , ‘ 1, n,:_ In a few months Ientered the bar; and on the same day formed a business co-partner- ship with my esteemed friend, Mr. Worth, and the next week I was married. “I beg your pardon,” I instantly cried ”but I cannot marry beg” _ ' 1 .. . ,,,1,vL I almost despised the man who made this cool calculation, and fearlessly exclaimed at any risks, “My dear air, as I have not the honor of an acquaintance with your niece, and as consequently my declaration cannot be accused of ofiensive personality, I must be Dermitted to say emphatically that I cannot accept the connection you propose. and aha“ not. My muons you know.” ‘ “ Yes, but I presume you are not ready to thank me for concealing her for a. twelve month. I did it only to ascertain what stufi‘ you were made of, and if you had not proved yourself a true man you should never have seen her.” Oriel shuddered at the thought of this pos- sibility, and if it was my good deeds which saved me, never did ahnmen being experience a deeper consciousness of the blessed results of well doing than I at that. moment. I paused, shocked at my boldness, fully ea peeting to be set unceremoniously adrift mm the world. But Mr. Worth quietly remarked that he was Sorry to find me so positive. and yet he could appreciate constancy and decis- ion. However. if he must give up his during project, he would try to do so cheerfully, but still could not willingly .see me sacrifice my- self to sentiment, dear as it might be to me, and added his recommendation that I should go into society. He would introduce me, and he begged I would not suficr any embarrass- ment arising from the premature disclosure of his wishes to deter me from coming to his house, and finally requested that I would not refuse him permission to send his carriage for me that very evening. He expressed re- gret that he had been so dilatory in offering me his hospitality. I could not refuse his friendship. and besides it would be an event in my retired life to opend an hour in his handsome residence. the fame of which shed its glories over our office ; and as for the niece, my thoughts were too greatly on- grossed to sufler the slightest discomfiture from the fairest lady in the universe were she not my Oriel. ,1 5., Oriel, startled and bewnldered by what she had heard, sprang from my alms and stood by hgg' upcle._ _ - Then succeeded explanations, 'Mr. 1: llerelie had married the sister of Mr. Worthand lived for many years in the enjoyment of wealth and prosperity. The sad day came when his wife died, and his riches departed from him by a. series of unfortunate events. He was too proud. to bear the humiliation of poverty and dependence among former equals. and he accordingly hid himself, in Nottewa. His caution baffled search, and not till he saw that his immediate dissolution was certain. did he semi for his brother-inâ€" law, to whom he desired to entrust his daughter. The luxurious carriage oeaiaed.,sjta,w heavy roll before a superb mansion towering upwards through the gloom of night in indistinct and grand pro- portions. Mr. Worth met me at the thresâ€" hold. and conducted to a capacious drawing- room filled with miracles of upholstering and art. My host immediately excused himself. and I sank down upon the silken cushion,and was busy during his absence drinking in the beauty which surrounded the, tracing the delicate harmonies of form and tint, and not- ing how successfully they combined to form a distinguished and pleasing result. My eye roved listlessly about, and was caught at last by the figure of a beautiful woman who stood hesitating in the doorway. I somewhat absently noted the fine effect of her lustrous silk against her fair complexion, when quick- er'than a flashing light every pulse stopped beating, then hurried so tumultuously that I could not think; I sprang to my feet and rushed to the door with outstretched arms. Oriel. my lost Oriel!” and the dear one hid er smiles. and tears. and blushes on my heart. How long we stood there I cannot tell. buy the trance was broken by a stern voice which‘ 8316., “ No familiaritiea. if you please. sir. You have formally declined the hand of my niece,and ijish your conduct to be in keeping with your positive asseverations." . "‘That’s right girls have some spirit," said Mr. Worth, While his laughter echoed throggh the_house: viii}; Ehkfiiéd my intentions.” replied I. too happy to be abaahed, and approaching Oriel, led her t_o 31 seq: besfide m9; ”Then I am indebted to Oriel for your um qualled kindness,” said I, to Mr. Worth. as I clung: d the band of his niece. TEF- END.