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“\Vhy, what is the matter now?” I ask, impatiently: “\Vhat are you lookiné so cross about?” “ What should 1 (10 with it but one thing? Of course I bought a- present for my sweet- heart.” “Only the year before last, by your own account, and I know your memory to be excellent. Come tcll me what you did with it.” “ I am not cx‘o indigxmntly. " \Vhat is there to make me so? There is no reason why you should not have innumerable sweethearts, as well as every other woman.“ Phyllis, the heroine of the story, is a bright (lashing tomboy of a girl just seven teen. She is up to all sorts of mischief ably assisted by her young larothrr Billy. Mr. Carrington, aged about 30, is their landlord, near neighbor, Squire and Very wealthy. Dora, Phyllis’ sister, is the pink of perfecâ€" tion, the beauty of the family, and is look- ed upon by them all as the one to captivate Mr. Carrington. They are comparatively poor, having only an income from seine in- vestinents, bearly enough to support them comfortably. Phyllis is introduced to Mr. Carrington when he is calling on the family, as the story opens. A few days afterward she is playing in the woods on Mr. (lax-ring- ion’s property anzl,wl1ile up a tree, liilly an~ nonnces the approach of Udl‘l‘lflgtOll when Phyllis hastens to get down and is caught by a branch and suspended betu'een heaven and earth, showing as Billy said,“only a few inches above her garters,” and finally after a good deal ofstruggling frees herself scratch- ing her arm severely. Carrington skillfully binds it up with his handkerchief and falls in love with l’hyllis unknown to her. A few days after he takes Phyllis and Dora and anumber of their neighbors off fora long drive and a picnic. Showing marked attention to Dora. On the way home how- ever, Phyllis is invited to take the seat of honour by the side of Mr. Carrington who is driving and Phyllis gets a sort of misty notion that Carrington loves her. Next day Dora who is eonununing with herself in the woods aceidently comes on Carrington unheard, and finds him frantically kissing a miniature in his locket which turns out to be Phyllis. Dora returns home heartbroken, and Roland her elder brother who happens to be home from college threatens to call Can'ington out. Phyllis is always run on by the whole family who never suspect the. he is in lore with Phyllis, she has met Car- rington several times, and he at length de- clares himself and they are engaged to be married in one year. Phyllis cannot sustain courage enough to announce to the house- hold, the fact of the case for some days, when she does they all look upon her as having done Dora a great wrong, who goes around the house red-eyed and tearful. Surely some capricious spirit inhabits this room. For the second time since we enter» cd it Marmaduke's countenance lowers. V “You are right there. No \‘ii'tllci>;as admirable as sincerity. I wonder how you could brim; yourself to resign so desirable. a lover.” As he grows obstinate so do I, and thcre~ fore answer Wlth gray evngion: “Oh!” I say; and his last speech having made me aware that the word “sweetheart” has been the cause of all the ill temper. I goon, wickedly, “why, none indeed; and this particular one of whom I speak was such a darling! So good to me, too, as he wasâ€"I never received an unkind Word 01' a. ewes look from him. Ah! 1 shall never for. get him.” “I didn‘t resign him. Circumstances over which we had no'uontrol arose. and separated his lot from mine." 1191-9, 1 sigh heavily, and cast my eyes upon the ground with such despairing langnor us would have done credit; to an Amzmda~ or a horn. “ If I am to he considered (me 01' the ‘ circumstances ’ in this matter," says my lover, hotly, “ 1 may tell you at once 1 do not at all uuvy the position. .lhuvc no desire to come betwrcn you and you' at- fections.” “ You do not," I return, mildly: and, but when a. man is jealous he loses all reasoning and perceptive faculties, he might Soc 1 am crimson with suppressed laughter. “ Had you never appeared on the scene. still :1; marriage betvccn us would have been im- pvgaiblg.’i ‘ “\tht is his name?" asks ’lmko, u‘u- l‘nptly. “I would rather not tell you.” “I insist upon knowing. I think I haw: every right to ask.” SYNOPSIS OF PRECEEIHNG ("llAP'I‘l‘IIIFi Author of “41101111 Ifltwu‘n,” “Tim Baby. “ A fry Fairy Lilian," (tn, ('(1'. “ Ohfwhy‘.’ If Iprumised him to keep the nutter secret, surely you would not ask me to break my fgitlu” “Once engaged to me, I objuct to your keeping faith with any other 1mm." “Will it is all puet and gone now," I murmur, sadly. “ Why rake up the 0111 ashes? Let us forget it.” “ Forget it!" cries Marmaduke, savagely. “How easy you find it to forgot ! And you, whom lthought so innocent it childv on, who told me you had never had a lover un~ til I came to Strangemorc! l \‘EUUIO‘J so readily forget what you have now told me. It maddcns me to think another man has been making love to you, has hold your hands, has looked into your eyes, haswhus â€"â€"~â€" Phyllis” almost fiercely “tell me the truth; did he ever kiss you?” My back is turned to him, but I am Visi» bly shaking. I wonder excccdmgly why he does not notice it;but perhaps he does, and puts it down toidcep emotion. “ No,” I say, in ‘3 sfimthercd tone, never went so far as that.” “T1101: why not tell me 1118 name?” The Age of Iron is no more; The cm-Lh has moved. W0 how it To find, in the dcsx-nm, of mun. ThuL we’ve do ucndud to the lily. Or were it best to step aside And try to hold the old world stand) , In spite of this apathetic rush After 0. leader, \Yildc already? Shall we in hnmbh‘. moo?“ ’FS Vv’c live but to obey \h *, I“:1.’-‘hi<m: _\’ how our wives may1)]:1itthoi1‘1mir, Vth Lint; of plutc we may han- hush on CHAPTER XV. â€"Cu.\“m N (71*? n. A Timely Qubsticn. BY THE DUCHESS PHYLLIS. we <¢C9>>o¢l “it It is :1 fortnight later, when the post com- ing in one morning brings to Dora an inv1- tution from our aunts, fihe Miss Vernons, to go and stay with them for an indefinite period. Mother is on her feet, and has assumed an important expression. She has sent Billy in quest of Dow. Marmaduke Ul‘OSSGS 0\'01' to her, whispers, and expostulates for a moment 01‘ two, until at length mother sinks hack again upon her seat with a re- signed smile, and Sends Billy ofl‘a second time with a message to Brewster to hctake himself and the fossil back to b‘un‘unerleas with all possible Speed. And so it comes to pass that when the lawns are again empty Mr. Cam‘ington drives us all, through the still and «lewy evening, to our home, Where he remains to dine and spend therest of this eventful (lay. These two old ladies “named respectiver Aunt Martha and Aunt Priscillaâ€"arc maid- en sisters of my father's, and ure,if possible, more disagreeable than he; so that there is hardly anythingâ€"short of committing sui- cidu we \muld not do to avoid paying them a Wife of any lengthened duration. "N0,1 shall congratulate Carrington,” replies he. shortly, and after a few more words of the lugs": (:mnmom'nlacc description, leaves us. “log, it is indeed so,” I return, with an assumption of saucincss, though my' cheeks are flaming. Then, half shyly, "W'ill you not congratulate me?" ’ming rich, however, they are powerful, anti we have been brought up to understand how inadvisable it would be to offend or annoy them in any way. “Don’t be too glad,” .c‘ ’1)..'; ,, direct ing a, tender smile at Mt, .. I stanfi'bcmuing pinkly upon Sir Mink, "or I shqu be joaL ous.” “How! if} it indeed so,” Sir Mark asks, addressing nn'. He too has only reached the neighborhood within the last few hours, and knows nothing of what has been going on of kite in our quiet village. Dom receives and reads her letter with an unmoved countenance, sayingnothing either for m- ugniust the proposition it contains, so that breakfast goes on smoothly. So does; luncheon: but an hour ‘aftm'wzu-ds, as I happml to he passing through the hall, I how: high words issuing from the library, with now and than bctchn them a dis. jointed 501), that lcuow proceeds from Dora. “Miss Vernon,” he cxclaims, with a start of surprise, "you how! How have I missed seeing you all day? ()arrington, when you bring so many people together you should at cast give them printed programmes with all their names inscribed. to let them know whom to seek and Whom to :voigl. Miss Phyllis, how can I tell you how glad I ran to see you again?” An altercation is at ail times nupicasunt ; hut in our household it is doubly so, as it 1m»; this effect of making the masi'orof it unhcmuhly 11101030 for the remainder of the day 0y night on which it occu “I could not help it. You lookml so an- gry and the idua czune into my head. And all about old Tanner! Oh! ’l‘lleremtimm, please don't make me laugh again.” Friendly intercourse being thus (mm: more restored, and it being necessary we should now return to the guests, .1 "11111021 bet with him, in n lllCll a. down pain; of gloves count as liigii as tlirec kisses, and race him down all the Stairs, through landings and rooms and corridors, until 1 arrive breathless but triumphant at the hall-door. Here we paused, flushed and panting, to l‘OCOVtZ)‘ our cquzmimity, before marching out together calm and (lecoi'ous to mingle again among our friends. Most of them me standing drape,de slxawlcd, only waiting to bid farewell to their host. Almost on the steps We comein contact with Sir Mark Gol' . limming this, and feeling the roof that comm papa to be, in his pmscnt- shite, 1m- sufo, [steal lxoisclcszsly to the hall demyand, opening 1t, find refuge in the glltel' air. “Phyllis, Phyllis!” cries my lover, with rcproacleul tenderness, and, catchin me in his arms, presses upon my lips kisses many and passionate, as punishment for my wrong doing. ' r m” n V: _ b . -. “Howoould you do it, darling? Ilow could you mzaku me so miserable for even few minutes?” - PM”! - As (gaming falls, However, 1 am “RI-nod, of th : approach of dinner-hour, :111(1,1*ctum- im; to the house, am safely up the stairs, when Billy comes to muct me, his face full of indignant information. “Oh, Marmaduke,” 1 my. holding out to him my hands, “wme back is) me, and I will tell you 111}. It was old Tunney, your head gardener, I meant the entire time. He used to give me 3.1} your fruit and flowers before he went to J‘unoriua; and I bought him an car-trumpet with my tea shillings, andâ€"~01)! oh! 011 l” ‘ “ It a beastly shame," he sup, in a subtlde whisper, ' mxl I would not submit to it if I were you: \Vhen luncheon was our. Dom went to pupa. anxl told him she wnuhl not go to Aunt \lurtlm; and when pupa mg (l and insisted, slm lmgun to blub~ but as usual, and smd if you were to take her place it would do just :1:< well; and of course papa jumped at the Mm, knowing it woulll hc: (lisngrevahh‘, and says you .wlza/i Humoves ufntvp or two in the (Erection of "the «1001'. Cl‘ux‘ning. )_ blind. intoa perfect peal of laughter, and laugh until the 01d room echoes again. “ \Vlmt‘." cry ], furious at this new pie‘ of injustic “ I shall, shall I? He’ll see! 1 turn from my brother with an ominous expression of my 111w, and move towards my bedroom door. The action mums, “Not words, but deeds.” “BecauseArIâ€" cannot.” “Will not, you mcnn. Very good; I will not ask you again. I think we liml better return to thuground ” “That’s right,” says Billy, following close in the character of a backer-up, and openly delighted at the prospect of 1L scrimmage. “Fight it out. I would give the governor plenty of check if I were you; he wants it badly. It‘. a, sliunm, that's what it is: and "on engaged and all! And what will Car- rington say? Do you know ‘”min-vstci'ious. lwa‘ it is my opinion Miss Dora thinks she could get inside you. if you yore once out of the. way? She was ulvays :1 sneak; so 1, would not give in on any account. int ”‘~ <l0$ptm<lingly~3'b‘on \\ ill never have the CHAPTER XVI Usually my greeting to him is a hand cub stretched from my body to the length of my arm. Now I cast myself generously into his embrace. I cling to him with almost affectionate fervor. He is very nearly dear to me at this moment, comng to me as a, sure and certain friend. “My darlingâ€"â€"my life!” he cxcludms, “what is it? You are unhappy; your cycs are full of trouble.” His arms are round me; he presses his lips gently to my forehead; it; is a rare thing this kiss, as it is but seldom he caresses me, knowing my antipathy to any demonstrar tive attentions ; but now my evident afflic- tion removes a barrier. “I want you to marry mcvat once." I breathe rather than speak, my hast-y run» ning, and my excitement having well nigh stifled Inc. “You will, will you not? You must. I will not stay here a moment long- er than I can help. You said once you wished to marry me in June ; you must wish it still.” I run swiftly, Van irrepressible sob in my throat, down the lawn, past the paddock, and along the banks of the little stream, until, as I come to what we call the “ short cut ” toBriersley, I run myself into Mr. Uarringtou’s arms, who is probably on his way to Summerleas. “ I do,” he answers, calmly, but his arms tighten round me, and his face flushes. “1 will marry you when and where you please. DO you mean to-morrowZâ€"nexh week?-~ when?” “ Next month; early next month. I will be ready then. You must tell papa so this evening, and take me away soon. I will show them 1 will not stay here to be tyrannixed over and tormented.” I burnt into tears, and bury my fact,- lus coat. “You shall not slay an hour longer, if you don’t wiah it,” returns my lover, ruth- er unstcadily. “Come with me now, and I will take you to my sister’s, and will marry you tn-mm‘row " “Phins!” roars pa; a, making a. wild grab at me as I sweep past his chair ; but 1 u.\‘oid him defiantly, and, going out, slam the door with much intentional violence be- hind me. I fly through the hall and out into the open air, I feel sull'uczitcd, half choked, by my angry emotion ; but the sweet evening breeze revives me. It is eight o’clock, and a delicious twilight pervades the land. “011, 110, no,” 1 say, recoilng from him ; “not that; I «lid not mean that. l (lid not want to run away with you. Next month will be soon enough. It was only they in- aistcd on my going to Qualmsley. and l was determined 1 would not.” “It is disgraceful your being made wretched in this way,” Cxclaims Max‘madukc wratlifully. “Tell me what has vexed you?” lle is not aware of the Miss Vernon’s exist- ence, “Where i: Oualmslcy?” "Do not let us discuss the subject fur- ther,” says papa, in a loud tone. “ There is nothing so disagreeable as public rccrimi- nation. Understand (moo for all, Phyllis, the mattér is arra 11gc<l,an<l you will he really to go next week.” "I will not!” I my, passionately, rising and flinging my nmpkm upon the ground. “1 have made up my mind, and I will not go to Qualmsley. Not all tth fathers in L/ln'is- teudom shall make me,” “ I would not speak of ‘um’zurhand work,’ if 1 were you,” returns she, smoothly, with an almost invisible flush fmm her innocant blue eyes. “It is a horrible place, in Yorkshire, where nobody lives except my aunts. They want me to go to stay there next week for a month. The hateful old things wrote in- vitng Dom. and when she remand to go papa insisted onvictimizing me in lm‘ place. if you only know Aunt Martha and Aunt Priscilla, you would understand my abhor- rcnceâ€"my dotcstationâ€"of them. They are pope’s SlStCl‘ShtllO \‘ery image of him wand trend and trample on one at every turn. I would rather die than go to them. I would" far rather marry you}: “ This is some of your underlde work,” I say, with suppressed anger, addressing Do a. “ That is E0 be regretted, as I will not have your aunts olfemled. You are the youngest, and nuist give way.” “ But the invitation was not sent to me. " That will make little difference, and a sufficient, excuse can be offered for Dora. As your nmn‘iagc (loos not come off until late in the autumn, there is no reason why you should remain at home all the summe ” "(‘I am not c01r1,”I reply: 1‘and I ma afi‘ald to face papa." Nothing is said on tlm expected subject of Aunt Mam‘na until it is nearly time for us to retire to the Lli'zl.'rii\§_:~1‘o(un, and l am almost beginning to fear the battle will be postponed, when pupa, turning to me, says, carelessly, and as though it was a matter of no importance : '1. 21m clothed in White muslin, a little open at the. throat, and with my arms half bare. A piece of blue ribbon defines my waist, a. how of the same hue is in my hair; the leak- et that contains his face is round my neck ; a great crimson mm lies upon my bosom. In this (lciiant mood I dress and go down- stairs. All through dinner Dom is more than usually agreeable. She smiles contin- ually, and converscs gztyly in her pretty, low-toned. elegant way. To me she is par- ticularly attentive, and is apparently deal to the silence with which I receive 1101' re- marks. :5 Dow dislich the idea. of going your aunts, Phylum, at this time 9f year, have decided on sending you for a month her place.” . “ But I dislike the idea tom,” 1 reply, calmly as _1'agc )vill let me: I harle gx1e§s Ithc signific; words until I see my lover w in the twilight: cc of my last men and wince pluck to go through it when 11' comes to the point. I know you won’t.” \ Hf “1 W111,” 1 return, gazing Lac 3,: bun with stem determination in my eyes, and then I go into my room and prepare for din- ner, leaving him both astonishcd and pleased at my new-found courage. “Of course I don’t 111mm that," 1 say, confusedly, “ I only- ” But, as 1. don’t at all feel sure what it is I do mean, I break down here ignominiously and relapse into awkward silence. “ Of course not," he answers. “' 1 quits understand.” But, his voice has lost all its enthusiasm. and somehow his words drag. “ Had you not better come back to the house, Phyllis? You will catch an“ without your hat and in that light dr- SS.” we in h) “Don’t be foolish, child)" he makes anv swcr, roughly. “1 could not release you, even if I would. You are part of my life, and the best part. No; let us keep to our bargain now, whatever comes of it 2’ His eyes are fixed on mine; gradually a softer light creeps into his face. Putting up his hand, he smoothes back the loose hair from my forehead and kl.» .5 me gravely on my lips. “More probably you would lie thankful to me,” he answers, bitterly. “I would not. I would far rather trust myself to you than stay at home after what has passed.” My voice is trembling, my lips quiver faintly. “ But if one 01' us must be unhappy, let it be me. I release you. I would notâ€"-â€"” “You are my own lxttle girl,” he says, “my most precious 'possussion. 1 will not have you inconsidcm'uly used. Come, 1 will speak to your fatller.” ' “Don‘t llC sorry,” 1 whisper; “something tells me I shall yet love you with all my heart. Until then, bear with me. 01', if you think if. a risk, Marmaduke, aml would rather put an end to itull now, do so, and I will not be angry with you.” I feel angry, llisuonsolate, with the knowledge that: through my own act I am cruelly wrongiug the inan who, I must con- fess it, is my truest friend. 1 half think of apologyzing, of saying something gentle, yet withal truthful, that shall take away the sting I have planted. A few words rise to my lips, I raise my hand to give them ut- turancc. Suddme his arms are round me; he is hissing me with a. passion that is full of sadness. Tler is so much tenderness min- gled with the despair in his face that. l, too, am saddened into silence. Repentunt, I slip a. hand round his neck and give him back one kiss out- of the many. ‘ So hmul in hand we return to the dragon‘s den, where, Mr. Cm‘x‘ington having laced the dragon and successfully bullied him, peace is restored, and it is finally arranged that m tlnm weeks we me 10 be married. Aml in three, wuulgs “'0 MM married. In three short weeks I glide into a new life, in which Phyllis Currington holds absolute sway, leaving the Phyllis Vernon of tlm old (layaâ€" the “general receiver” of the blame of the familyfito be buried out of sight for ever. First of all mother takes nae up to Lon- don, and puts me into the hands of a Cele- brated nunh'sz‘e, {L woman of grant reputation, with piercing eyes, who scowls at me, prods, taps, and measures me, until I lose sight of my own identity and begin to look upon myself as so many inches and fingers and yards embodied. At length, this tcmiblc person expressing herself satisfied with the cxznnination, we return home againnvhithcr we are th‘ly followed by many \\'l(‘:l{0]'- framed, oil- \in‘covcred trunks, in whichlic the result“ of all the measuring. Everything is so fresh, so giay, so dainfy, that 1, who have been kept on such low diet with regard to clothing, um unmptur- ed, and as I dress myself in each new gown and survey myself in moths 1m ~ sustain :1 sensation of pleasuralfle admin that mqu be conceit in :11: “ung dunk- ling ” Madam - charmingly and rather shopâ€" pin expre sea it. my \\'edd1ng»dress is a “marvel of elegance and grace ”â€"aud lace she might have added, as Brussels is every- where. Indeed, as Isee and think of the bill that must follow, the old deadly fear of a row creeps over me, chillng my joy, until 1 happily and selfishly remember that when it. does fall due I shall be far from Summer- leas and papa’s wrath, when I become cnce more emhusiastic in my praise. I even inâ€" sist on exhibiting myself in it to Marma- duke three nights before the wedding, though all in the house tell me it. is un- lucky so to do; and Mrs. Tully. ‘the wok. with her eyes full of brandy-andmater, im- plores me not to be headstrong. I tap my foot impatiently upon the g: 011ml; my fingers seize and take to )ieces wanton- ly the unofl'ending rose. Asl pull its crim- son leaves asunder 1 drop them in the brook and watchthcm float away under the moon’s pale rays. I would that my cruel words could so depart. (slits come in from all )sidcs, Bobby Dc Vui‘c’a‘ and Mr. Hastings’ being conspic- uous more for size than taste. )apa. so for UVUI‘CLHIIQS his animosity as to present; me with an astonishing travelling desk, the intricacies of which it takes me months to master, even with the help of Marmaduke. Roland, coming from Ireland for the core- mony, brings with him from the Emerald Isle a necklet too handsome for his purse While Billy, v'itlh tears of love in his dark eyes, puts into my arms a snow~white rah- hit that for six long months has been tlicjoy of his heart. than any one (J30. 1 like you twent ‘ thou- sand times better than pupa 01' Dora. 1. cannot say more.” “So you did. In my lolly I hoped time would clmnge you. What a, contcmptiblc lover I must be, having: failed in eight long moule to gain even the affection of a child ! ‘3le you never rare for me, Phyllii “1 do care 101' you,” I return, doggedly, forcing myself to i'acallim. "After mamma. and Billy and Roland, 1 care for you more L‘ i,“ >7 ‘ ‘ “'l‘hut is all. Have not I told you : 11 Lhis‘. 10m? ago?” I cry, :Lnurily, goadcd by the reflectlon that *ach \x‘ordl speak only makes matters harder. “Why do you bring the whjwt up again? Must you too be unkiml‘ ion You cannot have believed me mad- ly in 70m with you, as 1 have told yum to the cmtrm'y ages ago.” “ Vflm' an answer.” exchims Murmu- (Iukc, with {L groan. “ Is that M1 1310-3011- sulafion you can ofl'er me ‘2” “'l‘hut is all. Have not I told You : H mm- \‘Ve are separated now, and I stand alone, gazing down into the rippling stream Umt runs noisily at; my feet. All'culy two or three bright; stars are twinkling)r overhead and shine up at me, reflected from below. ; Ir. (lux-rington lets the distance widen he- twccn us while regarding! Incâ€"VI feel mtl than sueâ€"With moody discontented (3309. “Phyllis,” he says, presently in a low tone, “it seems to me a horrible thing that the idea, of your marriage should be 5-0 din. tusteful to you» ” “No, no: not distasteful ‘ with deprccntion. : “Dofi’t say ‘ nu ’ if you mean ‘ 5'05.‘ Put my feelings 011?. of Hue question, 311111.421] mu honestly if you a o unhappy about it.” “I am not. 1t does not make me mom-.117)- happy to marry you than 10 many any one else.” nim'l‘ LADY humans, the widow of the l 1: young call, will remove to \Vilton, the beam tiful seat of her brother, the Earl of Pem- broke, when) slur will probably reside with. her infant daughter. There is no truth in tlxercl-mrt. so \V1(l('ly circulated in society, says the Lam/Oil Wm x" that an lwir to the ezu'ltlom is expoctml. v at. Lord Ui‘anville’s Ministerial bunqviet. QUEEN i‘lei:(:Ai:1:'i‘ of Italy lum among film- ladies of her Court two Americans wlios; magnificent jewels almost eclipse the famous diamonds of the Roman Princesses. They are the Princess Trigiano ancucci, neg Field, and the Princoss Cvn'i, nee SPL‘L‘ cur. MAN. 1):: {171%, um: 'lEmmipurtw\Vyse,lu‘b tor lnwwn 1w Mum Hammad, still holds own. She ; tux had the i‘elmlrilcnos other night by appearing at 1 ball in ivoryszllin dross embroidered with a. “limb of the (late of Philip ll.â€"â€"llorsos. dogs, am : lnuliul‘swtlm wholc rcprmluccd in natural colors with the motxt costly silk needlewovl. aml zzx'tistlu design. CLARICMOX 1', \«.10 fut 1m residuum 01" Prince. Leopold, is being thoroughly overlzzmlcdfihc drainage is to he put in perfect out w. u: (.3 some structurle alterations will be made i the interlor of the mansion. The fine b2171- x'oom facing the Hun] is by“ I; converted in- to u drawing room. Thin the chmn‘ncr in which mass was ceh’flmztmi {itrin . ten- ure of the French fumin «71.0 Queen E. 7 A , :m'i UN: 0. c So the holy words are read, and the little mystic golden fetter encircles my finger, I write myself Phyllis Marian Vernon for the last time; and Sir Mark (lore, coming up to me in the \‘estry~1'oom, slips 0. beantifu‘ bracelet on my arm, and whispers, smiling; “I hope you will accept all good wishe. with Lliis~~flfrsh Carri/imam” I start and blush faintly as Hie new tit _, strikes upon my ears, and almost forgot 1m thank him in wondering at its strangeness, ’l‘hen Marmaduke kisses me gravely, anon giving me his arm, leads me back to Hi: carriage, and it is all over! Am I indeed no longeraehild 1’ Is my win" acemnplished, and am I at last “ Q L01“) LANUSLMHYX‘HI, who as Government on the Land bill‘ at Lord Granville’s Ministerial . t: lhrtlmm, Au mall, says the [’(W' Alix/V (line/H, the Herman. and also the Jews lose one (ll their most popular writers. Thorn is nothing in the productions by which Ailey. haeh is nun-:5 generally known to show that he wusoncc a Hebrew by race, :L Hebrew by religion, and a Hchrcw, moreover, lry his passionate devotion to all that is honorable in the uncienhind (listinutive customs 0 his people. Most of his readers will think of him amt thorough German; but his vlew', sympathies are manifested chiefly am: strongly in £le least three 'of his \mrl hi1: edition of the complete writings of . mom) his “ Life of Spinoza" (a. biographical ro- mance, rather than a systematic historical study), ainl his " J udaism in Connectior with modern Literature.” .[t was proha‘nly this lust prmluction which suggested to He: ' \Vagncr his treatise on “Judaism in Musit. ‘ Eu: whereas Herr \Vugncr makes energetic though unuvailing attempts to deprive Mouâ€" (lelssohn and h'lcyerhoer (if the credit which j , ly belongs to them as great cmnposer;~, whether of Jewish or 01" (101111311 origin, Auerhuuh brings out in a striking manner the inipm‘tant1mrt that Jewish writers have played in relation to the literature of mod- ern Europe, from Spinoza to Mosus Mendels- sohn, and from Moses Mendelssohn to .llein- rich Heine, Louis Home, and, hemighthnw :uliled, him: ‘lf. Mn. AIri'iII‘i: SULLIVAN is piwslllg iii:- winter ill CiLII‘O, u here he, in his own \Vordm “ idles about the streets, watching the seer so full of v: 'iety zmd color.” If the Egylr timi notables arc weal; enough to spare tin: life 01' till 3 author of “l’inuf‘orc,” it ii us?- l).’)l}l0 tlint- W0 Hllllll, beforelong. he inflicts? with another Operetta by that prolific v ' w, for his co~mzslcla ctor, Gilbert, cont V i nullyscmling him pal-fix: of {L new libretto t' A set to mm _ _ _ r ail-MA up?” How short a, tune ago 1 smorl m 123' bridal robes in mother‘s mom, Still 1’11" Vemon~still a. girlâ€"and now~~ it \ 'st only a few mmutes ago» ~ 7 ’ fl :on ’. V “_011, Marmaduke, mu 1 ("m/[y mame Isavy, gazmg athim with half frightC-n eyes; and he saysâ€" .nvâ€"n-«Qu «MUN» comâ€"M W # MEN generally puta. greater value upon the favours thr‘y bestow than upon 11; they I‘CCOiVO Namftduke is film cxtxc - :3le pale. lvzlt perfectly calm and self-p03 3(1, and ham even a smile upon his lips. A s he sees m he comes quickly forward, and, taking mo from papa, leads me himself to the altar~ a proceeding that causes much excitement among the lower members of tllr) congrega- tion, who, in loud whispers, approve histib dent fondness for me. 7 .. H. “u n I make my appearance 11) ohm h and up the aisle (m papa’s arm, I am so and altogether dejected that ,1 may be sidercd ghastly. U n“. .. u. “u. nuvuu mu my bedroom door and hurst in to m a seuki paukct, with “ Mammduke’s love” Written on the outside, and opening it wediscl to View the Cm‘rington dimuouds, reset, m» modeled,:1nd magnificent- in their brillimwy. This is :1- happy thought on J‘is part, and raise our spirits for fiwenty minutes at k-asf: thonghafter this some chance word make; our eyes grow moist again, and we Weep tcmatically all through the morningm 7 I, , . ; .5“ .uv muluuzg ~ genomilv up to th: at when at lengt' Jul'mg the dressing, and very lastmoment~so th 1" , i ' Ar; thc eventful «kw breaks, 1 Van 3:75. ' ' got thwugh t}: : prim ‘plc 11am; )ng without :s.‘ 1-, :L proceedi‘z‘x; nmch disappoints mother, VIM) at hi~1 hour of my childhood feels as how” \x'm'e once more her bully, and wotld i; V liked, “'ith'lingcring touches, to dress; m: bithy bit. At eight o'clouk Martha L'nmu Dom, who at first. rlccku'ed her de nation of leaving home during the Ti .ties, on second thoughts flxngcs hu- 1 hm'ixvg discovered that by abscnting he the ‘mss of a, new (11' fr: all she will _ 51:63, won conswts fros‘cily to be chief} n maid. 'L‘hotwo Haectings girls, with NJ. , Dc ans’s sister 'znvl two of Max‘mm‘k‘: uiiHM-US. (NM) 2: W, and Sir Mm'k GTE chm)" mourne). fie}? ‘ 7â€"7â€"-¢aoo« «up» mam-v I‘COTA BLE PE 0191.11. ‘ «led from t" , am so w‘