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“ I couldn’t; do it,” he says, throwing out his hands. "There is no use urging a. fellow. I could look murderous. I might look sentimental; Icould not appeal. I won’t and that‘s all aboubit. They will my there are no more actors it you send me on again so soon; and besides, those breaches don’t fit me. They will go on Chagdos ; _l_et take my part." And now comes a hitch. The third tableau on which we have decided in “ The Last Appeal.” There has been consider- able difficulty about the arrangement of this from the beginning, and now at the last moment Sir Mark Gore vows he will have nothing to do with it. Everybody agrees that Sir Mark, with the sorrowfully determined expression on his {3.08.15 perfect; while Lady Blanche ustonishes some of us by the amount of passionate pleading she thrown into her eyes. The curtain rises for the second time on Lady Blanche again and Sir Mark Gore as " The Huguenots.” This, too, is highly Iuooesstul, albeit her ludyship is too dark toLthe nary. Lady Blanche Going, as the Jewess, is looking positively beautiful, as kneeling at Dora’s feet, in many colored garments of crimson and gold and such gorgeous shades, with much gleaming of precious stones, she gazes with saddened curiosity in the face above her ; while Dora, raising her veilâ€"â€" my wedding veilâ€"with uplifted arms to look down on her, presents such a contrast, with her dead whine robe and fair babyish face, to the darker beauty’s more glowing sizzle as tahes the audience bx storm. The applause is loud and lengthened; Ind Sir George Ashurst’s enthusiasm ranches such a. pitch that when in subsides he ins to retire to his room in search of unggher pair-of gloves._ At nine the guests arrive; at half-past nine all is in readiness; the audience is seated, the impromptu curtains are drawn up, and " Rebeooa. laying the jewels at Rowena/s feet" stands revealed. All through dinner we-the intended victimsâ€"ere mysterious, not to say depressed; while Sir James Hancock, the two men from the Barracks, and Sir George Aehurst make mild jokes at our expeneee, um} wish us safely out of it. " But we must have an audience,” eug- gesti Bebe. at length, rather blenkly, stop- Ving atmrt, with her hands in the air. from which hangs down an ancient embroidered to e. " True. How shall we manage that ?" “Sande. groom instantly with invite.- tiona to the Hastings, the Leeliea, the De Veree, and the Ouppeidges. I am positive they are all dying of ennui this moment, and will hail with rapture any chance of escape from it. They will all come ; and the 'Lesliea have two or three really very presentable young men staying with them." " Oh, you must submit to that. When people hear of ‘ a scene from Othello’ they immediately think of pillows. They would consider they had been done out of something“ we gave them a mere court part. We will have you just dying, mur- muring your last poor little words, with Sir Mark looking as it he were longing to try the effect of the bolster next, and Miss Vernon, ae Emilia, kneeling beside you.’_’ Presently darling mother, who has slept at Strangemote and breaktaeted in her room, comes creeping in. and a dispute arises whether she must be excluded from the cabinet and sent into exile until night reyegle 9n: leerete. " For 'love, dearest; call you that nofil- ing ?" replies Babe, as she struts up and 601m befgre 9 199g glaaa._ “ NOV-V that is 'what 13311 9. ddwnright cheegtulupigtugejf says Mgugadukg. " Yes, that will be best. Dora, will you go and write the notes for me? Now, would it not he a. good thing to exclude all the non-players from our council ?" “ Oh,” says Harriet, “ thenI must go.” “ No. 110, Harry. we can’t do without you," cry I, imploringly; “you must stay. We could not get on Without some head to guide us and soothe down disappointed actors. You shall be wardrobe-woman and chief secretary and prime minister endings manager all in one.” ' "Yea," says Bebe, who has got herself into the ancient robe by this; “ and head- oe'ntre and poacemaker, and all that sort of thing. Now, don’t I look sweet in this flowered gown ‘2 Ah! what interest. ing creatures our great-great-grandmothers must have been I It almost makes me long to be a greatgreat-gmndmother myself.” “Butv you; angryâ€"your salur'y; state your terms,” says Harriet. “ I cannot. be allhtgat 3:011 hays mentiongd for pushing.” ” But I don't wan’t to be smothered," I prgtggt. nervously. . .. . A. . u". " I will help you in any way I can," says Dot-g: with hegusual gentle a;ni_abi_lity. _ “Icalf it high fragedy," replies Miss Benton, reprovingly. “ Will you be Emilia, Ming Vernon ‘2” “You would make a. capital Beatrice, Babes,” says Marmaduke. “We might have a good scene from ‘ much Ado About Nothing.’ Who will be Benediok? Now, dong; a}! speak at pnoe." “ I think it would suit me," says Chips, very modestly. We all laugh heartily. ’ ‘You grow modest, Mr. Thornton,” says ‘iir Mark. " I fear you must be ill. Try a. iml s of this honey; you will find it excel- ant." Curious odds and ends of old-world finery are dragged from remote closets and brought to light. Clothes that once adorned Marmaduke's ancestors are now draped around young white arms and neoks.and draw forth peels of laughter from the lockers-on. By degrees, as the afternoon advances, the men show symptoms of fatigue and drop 03 one by one, while we women shill keep together to discuss the ell-engrossing idea. " Let, usvgo into the library and arrange evuything," 1 suggest, eagerly; and we all ring a.n_d go there. Author of "Molly Bawn," “The Baby," “Airy Fairv Lilian," etc , etc. "No, thanks. I feel I shall be able to pull_thpough n_ow uqtil l_qpcheon."_ “ How 'disobliging fyou' fire I" says Miss We knew by the clouds to the eastward 1a was going to rain that Lia-iv]. And there was the whole aft 0 meadow lot All spread with the fragrant hay. And the clouds grew darker and larger As the winds the tree tops tossed, And, herd though I was working, It seemed the hay was lost. My farm was a. small and poor one, And the hay cm was all I had, And I could not a 0rd to hire a. man, For the times were dull and bad, And matters were looking dreary For me that summer day. Whey I heard a. sweat voice behind me: '.‘ I will help you get in the bay 1” Twas my neighbor‘s daughter, Molly, Who lived just across the road. And so]! was the light in her downmst oyesl And the blush on the check that glnwed. I gladly accepted the service She offered in friendly way. And there by my side that afternoon Blue helped me gather the hay. She was no fine lady feeble. Though her arms were Plump and white, And she raked all day wit 1 me. row for row, Till the mu 0! the summer night. And then, when we ceased our labors, And the hay was stored away, Fgwm _the gppph of my heartl‘ thanked her And I took her home to her cottage, But I didn't pause to woo. AndI asked not her hand in marriage, Which I knew she thought I'd do. I left her there at the gateway, Beneath the branches brown, And from her looks I knew she was The maddest girl in town. FE Her kffidneas to‘me that day PHYLLIS. Unmnde llny. BY THE DUCBEBB. So ’Duke flies, and 1, putting from me my small vexation, which even already appears half fanciful, follow him to the sides, to see how they look before the cur- tain rises. Cinderella. (Bebe), clad in picturesque regs, is represented in the act of flying, leaving behind her the magical slipper, which Master Chips is eagerly steeping to pick up. He makes a. veritable " Prince Charming,” in his scsrletcloak and long silk stockingsâ€"got no one knows howâ€"and cap and feathers; while Bebe, glancing back- wards in her flight to mark the fate of her ‘ shoe, casts upon him a bewitohing languish- Beatoun, flushing. " Then I won’t be the person appealed to. I did not want to, all along. It is too bad I should get no parts but those in which rage and ugly dresses are worn. I shall have to do Cinderella. presently m tettere, and in this I have only a short gown, and nasty thick shoes and a. pitcher.” "What nonsense!" say I. “You know every one said you looked delicious with that little handkerchief across your should- ers. Lord Chandos, go and dress yourself diregtly, as Sir Mark will not." “O["what use is it,” says Chandoa, quietly, " it Miss Beatoun declines to act with me?” ’Dukeâ€"Marmadukeâ€"where are you? Oh, come, come," cries Bebe, looking in; ” we are all waiting for you. How can I pose properly until you get me the slipper? You said youlnad it sopgwherq." “ No ; it was imagination. I did not know his face was quite so close, and. in consequence, when I opened my eyes I got a start. It was ridiculous of me.” “ Was that all ‘2" “ Yes, that was all." I laugh, though in a rather spiritless way, and feel angry with myselt for the vague restraint that is quite discernible in my manner while Marma- duke pours me out some claret-cup, with- out askiug any more questions. “ Acting with you has nothing to [10 with 1%,“ returns Bebe, reddening perceptibly. “I only decline the ‘old 010' part of it. Congifier how it hprts my vanity.” V“Yeb you would hav'e won-1 them had Sir mark kept his word," I say in an injuredrtoge. At this Lord Chandos looks expressiver at; Miss Beatouu, Miss Beatoun looks With- eringly at me, and Marmaduke, utterly innocent, says persuasively : Some instinct of evil makes me gn and stand close to Marmaduke. “ Was it a. success ?” I ask, nervously. “ Without doubt," Bays ’Duke, rousing himself. “ You look fatigued, Phyllis.” I take his arm and go with him gladly. “ Did anything vex you, darling ?” he asks me, quietly, as we go into the next room. “ Comé n'ow: Bebe, that's conclusive. Chandos will think you have some reason for_ it: ifryou gemist in refusing.” " How completely you must have forgot- ten the subject of the late tableau!" replies Sir Mark, in a. very calm tone, fixing her with his wonderful keen, dark eyes. At this unfortunate remark even I feel some dismay. Considering all that has passed between these two, and the nature of the tableau in question, it is unfortu- nate. Chandos and Bebe color violently; the latter-’5 fingers close with nervous force upon the pretty short; gown she is wearing and example it recklessly. The loose cam- bric kerohief on her breast rises and falls with angry motion. Ohandos is evidently furious. “ I shall think nothing of the kind," he says, in a. low. distinct tone. “ Miss Bea.- toun should be allowed to please herself. For my part, I think" it an odious scene andflhaiqkneyed to the_la.st degree.” ” Oh I” exolaims her ladyship, starting, and nasumlng an air of surprise ; tihen, with an affected laugh, “ How foolish of me I But really for the moment, on account of your attitudes and stillness, I fancied I had come on too soon, and that you were still aching." Marmaduke stares at me in wonderment, and then at Harriet, who is also listening. We are every one of us thoroughly un- pleasant. There is no time for words, had I even the desire to speak, which I have not, as at this moment Lady Blanche Going and Mar- maduke come lrom behind the scenes to congratulate us. I try to recover myself hurriedly, but it is too late; my red cheeks and frightened, halt-shamed eyes attract their notice; and Marmaduke glancing from me to Sir Mark, regards us earnestly, coloring very slcwlyhimselt the while. " Still as'it is on the cardEâ€"â€"” I mur- mgg. wealglx. Bebe laughsa rather forced laugh. “I wonder what our friends in the dress circle are thinking all this time?’ she says. " Lord Chandos, go and put on your things and don’t; let us keep them waiting any longgr." My eyes look straight into his. There are literally only a few inches between his face and mine, and I fancy I can discern a. treacherous gleam in them. Something masterful, too, in his expression. as though he would any, “I could an’ I would," strikes me. Instantly I resent it, and springing to my feet, stand back from him, crimson with indignation and some unde- fined fear. “ That’s right," exolalms Marmaduke, much relieved, moving away to another group in the distance engaged in a, hot dis- pute: Still Ghandos lingers. Slowly it descends, and as I hear it touch the stage, I cautioualy open my eyen r-to find Sir Mark has not) yet rmsed himself my}: his sbqopjng posfiqre. _ “ I am sorry for this,“ he says to Bebe, in a low tone almost haughtily. ” But it is not yet too late. It the idea. is so detestable to you, then give it up now, and I will supgggt you."__ Upon 9. crimson lounge, clad all in white, I he, my long, fair brown hair scattered across the cushions and falling to the ground beside me. One hand is thrown above my head, the other hangs llstleasly, aleepily, downwards; a. deepvred rose has dropped from it, and now blushes, halt lost, amidst the treaties on the floor. Sir Mark, in the character of the Prince, leans over me as though in the not of giv- ing the cameras that brings me back from dream-land. His face, I know, is nearâ€"so near that, between nervousness and shrink- ing, I feel a mad desire to break into for- bidden laughter ; so much so that when the curtain falls 1 am more than thankful. VWhy'should it be distasteful to me 7” very coldly. “I will make no further objegtjons.” “ How could 1? Such a. remark would have been an implied rudeness to you.” " Then I wish you had been rude.” “ You are unreasonable, Mine Beatoun,“ says his lordahip, stifliy. Then in a still lower tone, ” There are few things I would not do (or you, but that is not one of them.” fiat, though they gave in to iheir own wishes, or rather to their own pride, the performance is a failure. h And now comes my turn. The “ British public,” as Mr. Thornton persists on cell- ing our very select audience, is requested to turn its kind attention on Tenuyson’a I‘Sleeying Princess,” wrapped in mystic slumber. I am the Sleeping Princess, it having struck me in the early part of the day that this role, requiring little beyond extremeinnotion, would exactly suit me, and cause me less trepidation. _ ‘I‘ I hope you exonerate me. I could not helpit. I am more vexed about it than you Paybg.” ’ “ I think you might have said emphati- ca.lly just at first you did not wish it. Howâ€" ever, it does not matter.” “ I think you had better go and put on those garments Sir Mark rejected. We can fimah the argument later on,” mur- murs Bebe, turning away, with a half. smile. and, Lord Chandos hurrying over his toilet, we have them on our miniature eteige aoqner _tha;1 we dared to hope. ine gaze that (aupposiugthe originalCiuder- 6119. to be capable of such another) must have had more to do with he: being Prin- cess later on than anything in the shape of a vow. “Cold?” replies ha, nonchalantly. “Is it? I thought it warm. Better send some one for a shawl. Here, Gore, will you get Mrs. Carrington something warm to put round her? She finds a draught some. where.” wind, as Sir Mark departs obedient. ’Duke turns once more to his companion, as - Having dismissea my partner on some pretext, I look straight at Marmaduke, and, ahivgriqgrglighty, spy, “ Hoyv .0019. it: 1133" Then we close up Dora, as Constance de Beverly, into an imaginary wallâ€"the poor nun. with raised despairing eyes and down- ward clasped hands, creating much sympa. thy. Yet, none of us feel sure this was the spirit in which the real Constance met her doom ; only, as the devotional tearful style suits Dora, we conclude it was, and make no unwelcome inquiries ; and every one is charmed. Just before we break up, indeed, finding myself near to him in the supper-room, a strong desire to test his real mind towards me, to compel him to pay me some atten- tion, seizes me. He is as usual in close attendance on Blanche Going, who has kept him chained to her sideâ€"willingly chained, without doubtâ€"during the greater part of the evening: After this comes “ Queen Eleanor pre- senting the agreeable choice of the poisoned bowl or the dagger to the fair but frall Rosamond," represented by Blanche Going and myselt; at; the conclusion of which Bebe draws me aside to whisper, laugh- ingly,how Blanche had looked the part can amorc. ” I would have given very little for your chance of life had there been any reality about it,” she says. “ She lookedâ€"oh, she looked as if " with a vicious clench- ing of her small fists, full of meaning. Nevertheless at heart I am sorely vexed, and, through pique and wounded feeling, make myself more than agreeable to Sir Mark for the evening. Not once does ’Duke come near me; nor does he even appear to notice my w‘ilful flirtetien." Bebe was a. laughing saucy Beatrice, and Lord Chandoe as Benedick, makes a much happier tableau than their last, and even- tually we wind up with a scene from the " Queen‘s Marlee" of Whyte Melville, in which everybody generally is brought in, and where Blanche Going, as Mary Smart, in black velvet and the inevitable cap, is the principal feature -, though Bebe makes a very charming Seaton, and even I feel some admiration on beholding Marmaduke as Deitnley. " A mutual Easinean fancy, it it. existed at all. But, as we made a mistake in the principal part of it we probably did so in all. Besidea"â€"lightlyâ€"“ I ought not to tell you all this, Mrs. Carringtou. Tales out of school are malicious. Such mere suppo- sitions as thevrare, too.” “ Why. surely I may congratulate myself on having gained a victory over so much beauty? It would be a. pity to deny me this little gratification." ‘ With a. sense of relief we come down from the stage and mingle with our audi- ence, accepting modesny the compliments showered uppn us from 8:“ sides. ” As a rule I believe it to be a. mistake," replies he, coolly; “but in this case I had no thought of policy. I am never quite sure that I do think her ladyehip handsome. That she is generally thought so Iadmib. Marmaduke and she were always good friends.” “ So I should any.” “ At one time we imagined a. tendrcssc there, and dreamed of a marriage, but, you see, ’Duke was bent on doing more wisely.” “Thanks, that is a prehtywpub. Was the tendresse you_ speak of gq her gigs-Am: big 7‘: Mother, who has not been inside a. thea- tre since she was 19. comes up to tell us it was the prettiest sight she ever saw, and to compare us favorably with all the celebrated actors and actresses of her time. “ ‘Good-Iooking 1’ How very faint! Surely she is handsome. Are you one of those who consider it impolitic to admire one woman to another ‘I” Presently we leave the scene of our tri- umphs and wander into the great cool ball- room. where the decorations of the forego- ing evening are still to be seen. " I don’t believe poor Mary Hamilton ever: had your laughing eyes,” say Sir Mark to me, during a pause in the dance. “ She must; have been aanddar, more sedate sort of person altogether. See how differ- ently love works in different people." “Where? 011! there.” He shares at Lady Blanche reflectiver for a minute or so, and then says, “ She is certainly good- looking.” - “You forget she was unEapâ€"py in hers. Beaides”-sa.ucilyâ€" “ how do you know love_h§.s qnything to go with my_eyee ‘I” ‘ “ A thng illustration of my text," I say, bending my head in my husband’s direc- tion. “ I don‘t ' 311055, of course. "I rim only supfggsing " ” Never suppose. It is foolish, end»â€" tahiguing. Though now we are on the sub- jeob, Monsieur Cbasbelar, you shall give me your definition of the words ‘ to love.’ If we may accept Whyte Melville‘s opinion of you, you must: be a very competent judge." What a. perpetual eimper that woman keeps up, merely to show her white teeth I How pleased ’Duke appears to be with her inane conversation 1 Now it I had ever loved him this probably would have vexed me, as it is Bah! I will think of something else. I turn to Sir Mark with a very euccesful little lgugh. “ I have no theory of my own ; I am a aoeptio on that point. I Will give you the orthodox definition it you Wish, which everybodyâ€"in a novelâ€"is bound to accept. It means. I fancy to merge the existence so entirely in that of another as to oblite- rate oneself and live only for him or her, as the case may be. Also, it would be strictly necessary to feel lost and miserable in the absence of the beloved one. You may call that fatiguing if you please. Do you like the picture ? Horrible, isn’t it ‘2” Again the vague jealousy of the evening before returns in two-fold force, and I bring my teeth rather tightly together. After all Marmaduke said to me on the balcony last night about making myself eonepicu» one with one, it is, to Bay the least of it, rather inconsistent with his own behavior now. “ Not only horrible, but impracticable, I should say. I might manage to be supremely happy in the presence of the adored ; I do not think I could be ‘ misera- ble‘ exactly in his absence.” Then laugh- ing. ” Is that really ‘pure love ?‘ ” It so, I am a sceptic, too. It would be absurdly weak-minded, and would confine one's hap- piness to too little 5. world, to indulge in such a. belief. It must be wiser to take enjoyment as it comes 111 every way, and not be so hopelessly depcndent on one.” Evidently tired and flushed from danc- ing, she has sunk with lazy grace into a. low chair, and now, halt turning, is laugh- ing up in Marmaduke’s face as he leans solicibously over her. Even as I look she raises her hand to repossess herself of the bouquet he holds, and no my impatience it seems that an unnecessarily long time elapses before the flawers go from 1113 hand to hers. My late careless, frivolous words appear to mock me. Why does he look at her like that ‘2 Why is he always by her side? Are there no other women in the room ‘I I try to think something gay and heart- less to say to Sir Mark, but just at the momep’a qothiug wil_l cgme to 1119. “ I entirely agree with you," replied Sir Mark, carelessly, looking straight before him,with so much meaning in his gaze that instinctively I follow it, until my eyes fall upon Lady Blanche Going, at. the other end of the room. though lorgetful of my very existence. Leggy Blanche smilps diaggreeably. _ Yesterdayâ€"eurer only yesterdayâ€"he would have been kinder ; he would have gone for this shawl himself. How eagerly, with what extreme tenderness has he ever anticipated my wants! And now the attentions of a. stranger are considered good enough for me. Is be tired of me already? Has he :30 soon discovered the poverty of my charms? Or has that old fascination returned with redoubled power, to make him regret what is, alas I irrevocable? tam", i fl 7 r , , A brief smile quivers beneath Sir Mark’s moustache; it is scarcely there when it is For the first time in my life I feel my outh an advantage 9.8 I watch the faint Y color rise to her ladyship’s cheeks. Her mouth changes its expression. It is no longer complacent. At this moment I feel she hates me with a bitter hatred, and am Partlys’qmmiteda . . n. M Sick at. heart, and mortified to the last degree, I turn away. yet with lifted head and proud,disdainful lips, lest he or she should rightly guess my thoughts. All the next day a marked coldness exists between me and my huaband. We mutu- ally avoid each other, and, the better to do so, full back for conversation upon those nearest 80 us. The nearest to me. at all events, is Sir Mark Gore. “Excellent. Though for my part I hardly requirea drive as a. tonic. I am always as fresh as I can be.” (I cannot resist this one little thrust.) “ Mr. Thornton"â€"to Chips, who has just enteredâ€"“ come, sit here by me ; there is no more room." Not being by any means a “gushing” pair, this temporary estrangement is unnoticed by the greater part or our guests; to the few, however. it is plainly visible. Bebe sees it, and is vexed and troubled. Sir Mark sees it, and is curious. Lady Blanche sees it, and is triumphant. It is clear than for whatever ends she has in view, all things are working well. Once or twice during the evening I catch her eyes fixed upon me, and as I do so her glance falls slowly, while a. malignant, inso- lent smile creeps round her mouth. At such moments I am pagan in my senti- ments. and would, if in were possible, call down all evil things upon my enemy. ‘Hext day, however, the clouds partially flaperse’ Naturally forgiving, I find a dit- fioulty in maintaining wrath for any length- ened period, and Marmaduke appears only Sogglad to meet my advances. He addresses himself to me in a. rather anxious, not to say conciliatory, tone ; for the first time he beOOmes aware at my unusual silence. "True." says Marmaduke; “we have not had a. drive for some time. Apicnio near home is, I believe, a mistake. It is a. capital jgee, Pby‘ll'is, is _it pot ?” _ ” I think I deserve a. vote of thanks for my suggestion,” says Lady Blanche, recov- ering. "I feel in great spirits myself already. The drive will do us good, and make us all as fregla as po_as_ible." The third day. indeed, all seems forgot- ten ; our animosity is laid, and peace is proclaimed. This time, however, there has been no explanation, no kindly reconcilia- tion, and only Marmaduke and I know that underneath our perfect amiability lies a thin stratum of ice. that any chance cold may harden into hopeless solidity. “Did 5701?? You take coffee, I think, Sir George? Dora, give Sir George some coffee." “Phyllis, we have agreed to let the birds hold high holiday tomorrow, if you will promise us a picnic. It seems apity to la: this last glimpse of summer go by unmarked.” says Marmaduke. speaking to me from the loot of the dinner-table. "‘Good-1horhing, Lady' Blinohe." I my, quietly. and with the utmost composure. In agitq oi hgraelf spa is d‘isooncerted: “ Oh! good-morning." she says. “ I quite fancied I had seen you somewhere before thiskuggrningf “ Then w'e’may consider it'a s'otbied plan â€"ma.y we, Mrs. (larrington ‘2" says Lady Blgnqhe, swgeglyiw “ Oh, how delightful l” cry I, flushing with pleasure, and dodging all the flowers on the table to get a good look at his face. As he is also carefully dodging them in his turn, with the like laudable purpose of beholding me. ibis some time before we manage in. When our eyes do meal: we smile sympathetically. _ I hardly know why I do so,but as I with- draw my gaze from Marmaduke I turn upon Sir Mark Gore, who sits at my right; hand. The curiously cold, calculating expression I meet startles me and some- what displeases me. “' I see no obstacle in the way," I answer. indifigrently, without ygisipg my eyeg. _ “ You really mean it? Then I should like to go right through the country to St. Seebird’a Well. It is years since last I was there.” She breaches a soft sigh, as though recalling some tender memory connected with her former visit. “ To the Wishing Well '2” says ’Duhe, ” That is a long drive. The day is fine. however, and I see nothing to prevent our doing it. Can we manage it, do you think, Phyllis?" “Do 37011 not like picnics!” I ask him abrqptly. This time 1 136 lift my head, and turn my ayes~alo§vly upqn he} lqdya_h_ip'a._ “Var-y muoh,indeed. Why should you thunk otherwise ‘2” “ Your expression just now was not one of pl»e_a.e_ure_.” “No? It ought: to have been. Iwas inwardly admlring the charming enthusi- asm with which you received your hus- band’s proposition." “Oh 1" return I, curtly. " Yes. As I told you once before, when I am pleased I show it; I am more than pleased now; I am enchanted,” smiling brightly at the thought. “Do you know that [have not been at a picnic since I was a. girlâ€"that is, unmarried ‘2" “ Not sinca than ? Why you must almost forget what a iicnic means. Shall I refresh your memory? In means salted pies, and sugared fowl, and indescribable jellies and warm fluids, and your knees in your mouth, and files. I don’t myself know anything more enjoyable than a. picnic.” Has any one else in the room noticed her ineolence ‘2 There is rather a hush, I fancy, as I move composedly to my seat and alter the cups and saucers into more regular rows. I wonder curiously whether Marma- duke hae marked her breech of etiquette. Not he! What man ever saw anything wrong where a pretty women is the trans- greeaor, more especially when that pretty woman’s blendiehmente are directed towards him ‘2 He gives back her smile placidly, and then speakeâ€" “ I believe we have decided on a picnic.” “ The picnic. of course. But where :1 That is the question." To-morrow comes to us as fine as though beapoken. Lady Blanche, walking into the breakfast-room in the most charm- ing of robes, addresses‘ herself to my husband. Though I am in the room, and she knows it, she takes no notice of me whateverâ€" does not even trouble herself so far as to bestow upon me the courtesy of a “ good- morning.” She looks up at Marmaduke, and smiles at him, and awaits his answer as though he alone were to be consulted. Evidently in her opinion the mistress of the house is of no importanceâ€"a mere nou- entity in fact ; the master is everything. It occurs to me that aha might be even gracious enough to smile in my direction, but she confines her attentions entirely to Marmaduke. “ Anywhefe you like; I am yours to com- mand.” “Dem: me, how I pity you! Whose picnics have you been at, may I ask 7” inquire I with scorn. “ To-morrow, I pro- miae you, you shall see verya. different spegimen." “ Well, most noble, what are your plans for (so-day ?” she asks with a. pretty show of animation. gonpfigsjin, and he drops his eyes discreetly 5n 11351119436. “ How shall we go ?" asks ’Duke. " We have the coach, and your trap, Ashurat, and the open carriage; will that be enough? Bartlet, what will quit you_?" _ " I shall stay at home, thank you," says Harriet, smiling. “I know I am letting myseltdown in your estimation horribly, but I confess I detest long drives. Ibelieve I detest anything lengthened, I am natu- rally fickle." (She Is the most sincere creature alive.) “ I shall enjoy lounging about as home, looking at the flowers, and reading, and that.” The Queen has reigned exactly forty seven years ho-day. TE} “KEEP THE RABIES “Ell LTllY. Dr. Leeds supplies a Formula 109 an- ‘ paring Cow’s Milk to Suit Them. Three doctors discussed at the meeting of the County Medical Society, in New York, on Wednesday night, “ The Summer Diarrhoea of Infants.” Dr.J. Lewis Smith quoted statistics oi three years showing that in the five warm months there were 9,885 deaths from this disease in this city, while in the remaining seven months of the same years there were but 1,407 deaths. In July and August the disease is always most fatal, olten running up to 1,200 to 1,500 deaths a month. Since there is com- parative immunity from the disease in the country, be attributed its prevalence in the c'ty to bad air and the frequency with which children are deprived of mother’s milk and fed on improper food. The com- mon theory that children teething are especially subject to the disease was a mistake, he said. With good air and healthy mother's milk, teething children need not necessarily have the diarrhma, For remedies he suggested the best possible food, pure air, regulation of the digestive functions, and the use of such medicinal agents as may safely be employed to check the diarrhoea itself. [lope for the 01d lVluids. Now let old maids anxious for husbands. and rich ones, too, rise up and bestir them- selves. A elose study of Swinburne, Rossetti, Elle Wheeler and other poets of the fleshy and passionate school, will en- able them to use the proper vocabulary and style. and a short term in prosody will do the rest. Then let them put all the love- sick longings and msndlin tenderness they can find in sentimental novels and bad digestion into rhyme, and publish it, even if it has to be paid for at full advertising rates. Soon bachelors all over the land will cry for quarter and rush into matrimony to escape the deluge of tender verses, and so shall the great army of old maids grow small by degrees and beautifully lessâ€"v Clcz'pland Leader. Prof. Leeds predicten“. that in the new: future much will be done to prevent fatal disease among the infants by prowding some good substitute for mother’s milk. A gentleman of the Western Union Tele- graph ofliee, New York, was sitting in the cable room, when a telegram from Phila- delphia, destined for Paris, came over the wires. This message, like all others for France, was to go over the cable via Dux- bury, Mass. The operator called Duxbury a few times, and then said: " That fellow is asleep evidently, but the cable men are always awake. I’ll have to get one of them to go and wake him up.” So he stepped to another desk, called Plaisted Cove, in Newfoundland, and sent the following message: “To cable operator, Duxbury. Please go down and wake up my own true love." This message Plaisted Cove hastened to send across the ocean to Valentia, Ireland, which in turn “ rushed " it to London. Thence, it was hurried to Paris,and still on to the European end of the French cable at St. Pierre. The operator there flashed it back to Duxbury. In less than two minutes by the clock the message had accomplished the journey of some 8,000 miles by land and sea, as was evi- denced by the clicking of the instrument on the Duxbury desk, which ticked out in a manner a little more petulant. “ That is a nice way to do. Go ahead. Yourown true love."â€"Thc Watchman. Dr. H. A. Pooler, of Goshen, and Prof. Leeds, of Stevens Institute, though differ- ing Item Dr. Smith as to the analysis of mother‘s milk and cow’s milk, agreed with him thatcow's milk, although the best sub- stitute for mother‘s milk, is not fit for in- fant's food, without preparation, first by dilution with water, and then by adding other substances to make up the nourish- ment which is wanting when only water is added. Prof. Leeds gave the following formula for making cow’s milk as near like mother’s milk as possible : Take a pint of good cow‘s milk, add to it a pint of water. Then add two ounces of cream. Then add 400 gains of milk sugar. Place a child (because the pupils of chil- dren are large). and by preference a blonde, says the Popular Science Monthly, at a. die- tanoe of ten or fifteen feet fromalamp, which is the only source of light in the room, and cause it to look at some object in the direction of the lamp, turning the eye you wish to look at slightly inward toward the nose. Now put your own eye close behind the lamp flame, With a card between it and the flame. If you will then look close by the edge of the flame covered by the card into the eyes of the child, you will see, instead of a perfectly black pupil, a reddish yellow circle. If the eye happens to be hypermetropic, you will be able to see the reflex when your own eye is at some distance to one side of the flame. This is the true explanation of the luminous appearance of the eyes of some animals when they are in comparative obscurity. It is simply the light reflected from the bottom of their eyes which is generally of a reddish tinge, on account of the red blood in the vascular layer of the choroid back of the semi-transparent retina, and not light that is generated there at all. This reflec- tion is most apparent when the animal is in obscurity; but the observer must be in the light, and somewhat in the relative position indicated in the above described experiment. This is. the eye of the observer must he on the same line with the light and the observed eye. The eyes of nearly all animals are hypermetropio, most of them very highly so, so that they send out the rays at light which have entered them in a very diverging manner. Bomclhinz N cw in Strikes. (N. Y. Sun.) A number ct clerks and salesmen in Hannigan & Bouillon’s dry goods store, in Grand street, refused to go to work yester- day. The strikers say there were about ninety of them, including some fifteen women. The strikers belong to the Equality Association, which is composed mostly of Grand street clerks. One of its members. Mial Peck, a salesman tor Hannigan & Bouillon, reported to the association on Monday that he had been discharged by the firm without cause. The asso- ciation met that night, ordered the clerks to strike in the morning, and appointed a conference committee to see the firm. The conference was not satisfactory to them, and the strike followed. “I did not dis- charge Mia! Peck on Saturday night.” Mr. Hannigan said last night. " I told him I was satisfied that Icould get a man who would do better work in his department than he was doing ; that he was not selling so many goods as he ought to, and that through the summer season I could not afford to pay as much as I was paying him. I gave him until July 4th to get another place. Other firms discharge their men more peremptorily." Why the Eyes Shine. A Telegraphic Feat. (To be continued The Fuel of the Future and ill; Ilseâ€"Ten Cents Per- Tlxousaml Feet. Those who believe that coal gas is to play a small part in the economical processes of the future are likely to find themselves much mistaken, says the Brooklyn Eagle in a recent editorial. Even if superseded by electricity, as an illuminant, which is by no means certain, coal gas, Will, there is reason to believe, occupy a still more im- portant position in the future as a fuel than it has in the past as an illuminant. Recent experiments have shown it to be by long odds the most eflicient,economical and con- venient of all fuels. To compare the cost of coal gas with the cost ot the electric light, or even other fuels. is a task as unsatisfactory as it is useless, because. as is well-known, tho sale of residuents when ‘the market is good is often sufficient to defray all the expenses of gas manufacture. and thus it might almost be given away. Indeed, at many points outside of the great cities large quantities of gas are thrown to the four winds during the pro- gress of coke manufacture. There is a coke-making centre in Pennsylvania where, it [B said, as much as twenty-four million cubic feet of gas is each day permitted to escape in smoke. Ovens have recently been set up which enable the coke maniac- turer to make from the bi-products a good eight-candle power gas, which,thcugh of no account as an illuminant. is of great value as a fuel, for it is cheap, requires no stoking as coal fuel does, and leaves no ash and clinkers behind. This fuel gas, it has been found, may profitably be sold at ten cents the thousand cubic feet. A careful estimate shows that such fuel would cost the proprietors of a puddling furnace not more than three dol- lars a day, the boilers costing One dollar for the same time; and ordinary dwellings could be furnished with fuel both for heat and cooking for 10 cents aday. Wherever gas has been used as a fuel it has given satisfaction. It readily generates an intense heat, leaves no soot and requires little if any attention. For domestic use, both for heating and cooking, it is likely to prove invaluable. As now made, fuel gas is charged for at the rate of from 30 to 40 cents per thousand cubic feet. This in a restaurant, where a range is used for fif- teen hours a day, would amount to about 20 cents; a domestic stove used by a small family would consume onlya few cents’ worth of fuel gas per day. In many parts of the country arrangements for the manu- facture and distribution of fuel gas are now being made, notably at Yonkers, N.Y., where already its sale has begun. In short, there is reason to believe that, in the future, gas as a fuel will prove invaluable as well to the small housekeeper as to the great manufacturers. awe. $3,1“Ma,” said a young lady, “ Whatis the reason they print ‘ lsughtsr’ every now and then in the speeches of M. P33 ?" “ So the reader will know when to laugh, my dear. Nobody would ever think of laughing when reading a. member of Parliament’s speech, unless laughter was suggested.”-Lnndon Punch. Union, N.Y., on Aug. 6th will celebrate the 107 anniversary of the battle of Oria- kamy, in which Gen. Herkimer fell, by unveiling a monument to the heroes of that Mr. Andrew Carnegie, the American millionaire, has returned to London from a prolonged coaching tour in the south of England. He praises highly the excellent roads and the social habits of the people. â€"Repea.ted requests have induced the proprietors of Lydia. E. Pinkham’s Vege- table Compond to send by mail to various lady correspondents, large mounted portraits of Mrs. l’inkham; and now many a household wall is adorned by the familiar, motherly face of the Massachusetts woman who has done so much for all women. Kata Frawley, aged 11. of Stafford, Conn. was killed on Friday While trying to climb into the window of a. school ‘house. She fell and caught her neck in the sash. Between comfort and discomfort is often very slight. Have you rheumatism or neuralgia? or are you a sufferer from obscure nervous pains? Why suffer longer? You can purchase for 10 cents a bottle of that king of painâ€"Polson's NERVILINE, or you can get a large bottle for 25 cents. It cures promptly. It is sure, pleasant. to take, and never fails to cure all kinds of pain. Don’t wait an hour, but send to any drug store and get a trial bottle. Nerviline, the sure pain oure. The most important part of a picnic, however, is not the weather or the place or the dinner. You may choose the most beautiiul spot in the world, and spread the most delicious lunch ever prepared, and yet have the whole thing a complete failure, simply because the company was not well selected. Out of doors, where the people are free from formality. unless they are congenial friends, and what Mrs. Whitney calls “ Real Folks,” they will be likely to feel ill at ease, and miss the support given by the company, clothes and manners. Small picnics, for this reason among others, are usually much pleasanter than‘large pic- nice. In making up the party, he sure to leave behind the girl who is certain to be too warm or too cold, or to think some other place better than the one where she is, and who has a " horrid time ” it she has to submit to any personal inconvenience for the sake of others ; and with her, the boy who loves to tease, and who is quite sure that his way is the only good way. Put into their places some others, young or old, who love simple pleasures, and are ready to help others to enjoy them. Next in im~ portanco to the company is the place. It must not be at a great distance, or you will all be tired, not to say cross, when you arrive there. It must be reasonably shady and not too far from a supply of good drinking water If the company are to walk, you must be especially careful not be overburdened with baskets and wraps, for the bundles which seemed so light when you started are sure to weigh down much more heavily before you reach your destination. Be careful to have this work fairly distributed. Never start until you are sure that you know just where you are going and the best way of getting there. Wandering about to choose a place, and thinking constantly to find one more desirable, is very fatiguing. That matter should be settled beforehand by two or three of the party, and the others should go straight to the spot and make the best of it. If they do not like it they can choose a different place when their turn comes to make the selection.“ From “ Picnics," by Susan Anna Brown, in St. Nicholas for July. Next to a clear conscience for solid comfort comes an old ahoe. One trouble exists in the fact that old shoes wear out, and another that they cannot always be worn. Undoubtedly Josh must be a. sufferer from coma. and has not yet heard of the great and only sure corn cure, Putnam‘s Painless Corn Extractor. This great remedy never fails to remove the Worst oorna â€"sott or hardâ€"in a. few days. No discomfort, no sore spots, but prompt and certain onre. Beware of flesh-eating and sore producing substitutes. Use Putnam’s only. N. 0. Poison (36 00., Kingston, proprs. The chief attraction of Winchester, Va., is the double cemetery in its suburbs. On one side of a stone wall are .buried over seven thousand Union dead, while over three thousand Confederate soldiers lie on the other. Ilium About Picnics. The Boundary Linc COAL GAS. Josh Billings guy's: To-Day’s Canadian News Notes. F. Hatching, Galt, has left.the Bank of Commerce to go into business with his father at Parkhill. A heat was encounterégi bv the tug Hattie Venbon last: week while in Nepigon Straits. The brute was despatohed with a pike pole and axe. A woman nu.de Missoum Douglas, of Dunnville, was sent; to Cayuga jail for three months for a. third offence in selling liquor illggally. Rev. Mr. Dickson, of the Presbyterian Church, Galt, has been granted three months’ leave of absence and given $200 for a Eeropean trip by his congregation. .1. , PLACE to seems a Businea Education or Emanuel-Ian Pen / manning at e armour: . ‘ IAN B BINEHB CODING Delta mob Oiroulnfl tree A lar'tge req ufaiti'on has been presented M the Mayor of ’L‘orouto from the citizens, 3.1:;- ing him to call a. public meeting to discuss the pumping engine question. The meeting wngrflxed for_Tugsda.y evegingpext. All kinds 0! llog Products handle-l, also Bunny Cheese. Emu. Poultry, Tallow etc. Pat. Egg Carriers supplied. Consign- ments solicited. 83 Colborne street Toronto The Victoria, 3.0., Post has been writing up the opium dens of that city. halt a dozen in number. 011 the occasion of the writer’s visit there were twenty men‘ whites, Chinese and halt-breede~in these places, all more or less under the influence of the baneful drug. John Goddard, builder, Toronto, who was about a fortnight ago knocked down and robbed of $125, lies in a. very critical condition, eryeipelas having set in in his head where he received the blow from an iron bar. The police have not yet captured the robbers. ESTABLISHED 1869. GIBB & GALLOW .L/ B. E.. Lecturer on the Eye, Eat and It Trinity Medical College, Toronto. Ocul . .1 Aurist to the Toronto General Hospitax,-ul Clinical Assistant Royal London Ophthalmic Hospital, Moorefleld's and Central London Throat and Ear Hospital. 317 Church Street Toronto. Artificial Human Eyes. Last month the Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland, by a. considerable majority, carried a. resolution in favor of allowing instrumental music into the churches. A few days after the Assembly broke up one of the ministers. a. Highlander, who had spoken and voted for the motion, met one of his oommuniesnts, who called him in question for his unscripturel and ungodly conduct. “ Well," asked the communicent, ” since you have got your ends accomplished, what sort of instrument would you like to hsVe '2" “ Oh, for that part of it, I em not very par- ticular what kind of instrument is adopted. I would not even object to the bagpipes, if their use would further the cause of the gospel.” “ Well, minister, that would be a grave mistake on your part, for I consider two drones would be owre muokle in se kirk." An epidemic of measles exists among the children of the 23 families living in the six- story tenement at 126 Cherry street. Four deaths from the disease have occurred. and as many children are still ill. while several others are convalescent. Two children died without medical assistance. The parents or the sick children are unwilling that the little patients should be cared for by the city, and are ignorant of all sanitary rules. A health oificer yesterday found 3- year-old Fanny Oliver ill with measles in a room with all the windows closed, and five blankets were wrapped about her,and there was a stove in the adjoining room. He ordered the windows opened and the blankets removedâ€"New York Sun. 7 mg the above ever day after using DR LA AR'I‘INE’S Mous'fiAcnn GROWER, Pomtively the only reliable fireman: non ever offered to the pu 110. A trial will convince the most skeptical, Beware of ha 118 imitations. Sent pnstpaid, in 1n n wrapper, on receipt w; of Brice. 5:1. or box. - - . ALfiEN 4, Box 13. London, Ont. AFTER. USING. Sole Agent for U. S. and Canada. h.“ IT WILL CURE ENTIRELY THE WORST FORM‘OF MALE COMPLAINTS, ALL OVABIAN TIIOUBLESJIN. FLAMMATION AND I'LcEIIATInN. FALLING AND D15- PLACEMENTS, ANI) THE (TONSRQUENT SPINAL WEAK- mass, AM) Is rAnTIcIILARLY ADAPTED 3011111: CHANGE OF LIFE. * ,9 * * it * xiv, * IT WILL DISSOLVH ANT) szmr. TI‘MOm FROM Tuz‘ UTERL'F IN AN LAIch STAGE 01" DEVELOPMENT. T113 'I‘ENIIENCYTUCANL'ERUI‘SIIIIMORS THEREISCEECKED VERY bPEEDlLY IIY ITS ITSE. * * * * q, I: * IT IIIIMm Is VAINT‘NESS, FLATUIENCY, DESTROY! AI LHHVING IMI:.<TIAIUI.A.VT3, ANmmLIEVEB WEAK; or 'l'IH‘. S'I‘MI; ‘11, IT {‘IVRER BLOATINu, HEAD~ \ 01:» l‘Ime‘RM‘mN, GENERAL I)I~:IIII.I'I'Y,4 Dunn: 'SIUN AMI [NthEHTlUI‘L * * * i . * ’I‘IIAT FEELING or BEARING DOWN, (‘AUSING PAIN,‘ WEIGHT AND BAmAvIIE. IS ALWAYS PERMANENTLY‘ CIIREDBYITH USE. * ‘12:} * * q. ’ I fi 1 * IT “’HIL AT ALL ’1'] \l 1le AND UNDER ALL ""5"". TIM- S'I‘ANCES AFT L‘I HARMONY “'1'”! THE LAWfi 'I‘HA’I‘ GOVEHN THE FFVIALIC I IN. * ‘ *1], * 4 * . ,* Mvh‘s l’UJHN» lfl SHLELY FUMTIIEI.E(IXTIMATI HEALING or D ~ >11: AMI THE RELIEF OF PAIN, Am) TIIAT IT DOES ALL 1'[‘ CLAIMS TO 1m, THOUSANDS of LADIES CAN GLADLY TESTlFY. 1m * «x ‘ L.‘ ~ - * W -' ‘W vr In * FOR THE (rum: n? KIDNEY Conrunws m lTlIEI'. S IX THIS REMEDY IS UNSUIEPASSED. * . * LYDIA E. I’INKHAM’S VEGETABLE COMPOUND I] .prepared nt Lynn, Muss. Price 31. Six bottles for 35. Sold by all druggistn. Sent by mail, postage paid, in form of Pills or Lozenges on receipt of pricoas ubovu. Mrs. Pinkhmn’s “Guide to Health" will be mnilr‘d free to Any Lady sending stamp Letters confidentially answered. ' * N0 family should be without LYDIA E. I‘INKHAM’G LIVER PILLS, They curl: Cnnstlpntiun, Billousncss and Torpidity of the Liver. 25 coma pct box. * . ¢ . For all of those Painful Complaints {In} *1 * \Vt-nknmfises so common to our best *J a: * fFEMALE POPULATION. i ;;,*i*{ LYIA E. PINKHAMZQ‘ ,* VEGETABLE COMPOUND} Trenlmcm Worse than the Measles. EYE, EAR AND THROAT. R. G. s, Ruiz-SON, L. R. 0.1). (Me Drone Enough. D. O N. L. 517. 84‘ IS A POSITIVE CURE i: