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The driver turned phlegmatically to Nessa for instructions. He was getting interested in the iml)i‘ogli(),a.ii(l was inno hurry. Nes- sa was the last person in the world to he moved by a. bribe, and the hare idea of quit ting the park as if she had no right to be there was sufficient incentive to stay there. Added to this, the lady in the phae- ton so managed her spirited cob with rein and whip as to make it doubtful which side of the road slie‘i‘ntended to keep. She wish- ed to know something more about this fly and the horses and the young lady, who even at a distance, was strikingly pretty in “ You think the magistrate has the power to settle a. legal question of that kind ‘3” Redmond said ‘1 iLh an assumption of con- tempt that failed to check his 1111\iety, lay- ing his hand on the side of the fly, keeping gace with it as the drivei tinned the hor’se s ead. “ N0 ; but he may tell me what steps t0 take to prevent you fiom cutting the ti: 11he1 011 my estate,” said Nessa beginning to lose control of her temper ;‘ and he may tell me,” she continued, with rising anger, “ how I may learn whether the eight hundx'eda year allowed for my maintenance has been proper- ly applied. ” “Damnation I” muttered Redmond. furi- ously, as he caught sight of the phzwtou and the lady who drove in it ; the maxt moment, with abject entreaty ’n his face, he turned to Nessa. and said, hurriedly in a low toneâ€" “For God’s sake, go away 1 There‘s an hotel in Lullingford. I’ll meet you there this evening, and agree to anything you like to propose." Then, with an oath for the stolid mum on the box, “Drive on. W'hat are you waiting for ‘2” T110.EITi\'e1' turned about {\l'ith a grin on his broad facennd saidâ€" “Whera um I to take you now, Miss ‘2” “To the nearest magistrate. ” ”Why, that’s Sir Thomas Bullen at the Chase.” “Then drive to the Chase.” Then turning slightly towards Redmond, she added, “If I have no right to set foot in my own house, you certainly have none.” ' Thehlow stunned Redmond. He had reek son to dread inquiry. He could say nothing. His narrow, unsteady eyes betrayed the fear and the venomous hatred in his heart. “ \Vho-oah I’ cried the driver, reining in his horse, as a light phaetou came sharply round the bend in the drive. “ At least, roan prevent you from stay- ing here, and I will,” cried the man, livid with anger. “ Turn round,” he added,” ad- dressing thc driver impatiently. nu “I insist upon your returning to \Vestham at once. ” “It is no good insisting unless you can compel me to go ; and you cannot do that.” “ As youvwill,” said Nessa, with a shrug of her shoulders and a. particularly provoking ir of calm resignation. ” “Because it is my home, and I intend to stay here for the present.” “You will do nothing of the kind. Itold you that it was my wish you should stay in the school where I placed you.” “As you see, I have not stayed there.” “Then you will be good enough to return at once.” “ “Quite out of the question ; I have FOIL dared that impossible.” “How ‘1" “Discussing our affairs, indeed ! The dis c11_s_si_ou begins: apd ends here.” Nessa knew him at once, though his black whiskers, which were formerly trimmed to a point, were now shaved to the fashionable military cutâ€"she knew him by those long, sleepy eyes, and that odious smile. She bowed with severe formality. In that moment he perceived that the haughty young lady before him was the disagreeable child he had seen last in a. short dress. “Nessa!” he exclaimed, the amiability going suddenly from his face, and leaving no trace save the two lines from the wings 0f his nostrils, “why on earth have you come here ’1” “This is hardly a suitable place for dis cussing 0111 atfztilys MI Redmond.” Nessa glanced signihcently at the atten hive driver. It was three years since they met, and for the moment he failed to recognise Nessa. Three yean make a great difference in the appearance of a girl at that time of life; they make little or none in a man of middle age; it was clear to see byhis commanding presence, that he was master there, As the fly stopped, he came to the side, and, seeing a lady, raised his hat. Half wiy up the great drive, they met a wane charged with the trunk of an enormous “Cutting my timber with indignation. A littlov further 011 the driver pulled up. A gentleman in shooting costume stood with a gun under his arm directly in the way: v Her spirits revival, however. when the driver, turning round, pointed with his “hip to a massive lmilding risingholdly out of the dark green oaks on a distant hill, and told her it was Grahame Towers. It was some- thing to feel that a place of such imposing grandeur, with all those green woods about it, was here. The pride ofher heart was stirred again when she caught. sight of the magnificent avenue guarded by rampant pan- thers flanking the great gates at the en- trance. It was noble !-aml, thank gond- ness, the gates were open. She had taken irrevocable steps; but her courage hall been sorely tried by the love of those she was leaving behind for ever. Even Mrs. Vic, at the last moment, had broken down, and forgiving had, with tears in her eyes. begged her to stay on. As for Tinkle- ton and the girls, the way they took on at parting ' ‘ quite dreadful to remember. “ Is it far to Grahame Towers ‘2” she asked the porter. - In aflditimf to these memories, reaction after the excitement of last night made the girl’s heart very heavy indeed. Miss 27” “Yes; fetch my luggage, please. There are two tin boxes with my name on themâ€" Grahame. ” She changed her last half sovereign at the refreshment bar where she had a cup of tea, gave the porter a. shilling, and looking in the portemonnaie at her slender resources as the fly started on its journey, she said to herself, “If I find no one there, whatever shall I do?" “A matter of four or five miles before you get to the park, and then there's best Part’ofa mile to the house. Take a. fly, THE BATTLE WON. CHAPTER III. ', p7 exclaimed Nessa “Oh, I shall have everythinv. This cs- tate---a,ll is left to me.” i Mrs. Redmond stopped with an cxclanm- tion that had somethingy of dismay in it; lbut quickly recovering hn‘ SEE-possession, ' she drew Nessa’s arm closer to her side, and saidâ€" “I know what you would say,” said Mrs. y Redmond 2 “that if my husband should hup- ‘ pen to be in diflicul ties, and we found onr- ! selves without a pen 11y in the world at the 4 end of three years, y 011 would give us a, home i und«a.nd foodfi” She stopped, choked l with disappointment, indignation, envy, l and malice ; but in th e‘nexb moment masked i her feelings under a Judas’ kiss, as she l “Nothing that he can legally cla. m ; but of course,” said Nessa, her gcner us dis. position overcoming her late hostil ty7~“0f course I should neverâ€"neverâ€"" She hesiâ€" tated, at a. loss to find an. phrase that might assure her new friend of a. kindly intention without wounding her feelings. “You must forgive me, dear. This is such a surprise, and I feel so wounded to think that my husband should not have told me something about his position. I daresay he has his own independent fortune ; bu 1 beyond that he has nothing whatever tocomervto come from this estate.” “and I’m sure that, with the money it would cost to keep you at school, you can provide amply for all your wants. Of course, your 111311111111. left a proper provision for you '1” “Eight; hundred a year! That‘s quite it great deal. Eight hundred a. year 1” She repeated, reflectively. “But, surely, dear, you will soon be of age; you look quite a woman. ” “I shall not be of age for three years.” “\Vliy, 110w old can you he 7” “I was eighteen in June.” “Only eighteen! And, of course, when you are twenty~0ne you will have more even than you have now.” Mrs. Redmond was immensely tickled with her account of the performance, which Nessa gave with considerable humour, being of an impulsive and expansive nature. “You can’t tell how glad I am that you have come here, dear,” said Mrs. Redmond; “0h es. I have a. co 7 of her win in 7 . ' my box. I was to have elglxt hundred a year during my minority.” :‘No, I don’t know that I have any re- lations at all ; I have never seen, never heard of any,” said Nessa; and she gave a brief outline of her life at school, warming up as she went on under the stimulating sympathy of her companion, and telling finally the manner of 1101' leaving Eagle House. “Your guardian 1 How odd he should never have told me anything about it. I feel quite hurt, dear ; it looks almost like a want of confidence. I knew, of course, that Mr. Redmond was a widower when I married him, but he never told me that Mrs. Grahame had left any children. Perhaps he thought I should want to have you with me iâ€"as I certainly should, havin r no children of my ownmthat was accounta )le while you were a. child, for men don’t like children. But you are not a. child now. Have you any brothers or sisters?” “ If this here sort of thing goes on much longer,” said the driver, as he once more turned his horse round, “my old 057 will fume ' he’s in ft suekus l” “)0 you know, dear,” said Mrs. Red- mond, taking Nessa’s arm as they walked towards the house, “this is the first time I ever heard your name! Men are so re- served about business matters, and I suppose you have some business relations with him?” | her close-fitting jacket and neat hat. As she at length pulled up almost within band’s reach of Nessa. she bowed, and looked to Redmond for an explanation. “ You will bring the luggage up to the house,” she said to the flymun. “Oh, yes; he is my guardian. I came here to have an understanding with him about my position.” “Shall we walk up to the house, dear? Then we can talk as we go along,” said Mrs. Redmond. Nessa accepted readily. Mrs. Redmond handed the reins to the old man in livery who occupied the seat beside her, and, step- ping to the ground, shook N essa heartily by the hand. “ \Vell, settle it as you please,” interrupt- ed Redmond. “ I’m off {01- an hour’s shoot- ing,” and, raising his hat, he turned his back and hurried off â€"sa.v1ng himself, as was his habit, from the present difficulty, and leaving the worst for the future. “Ol1,we are not so badly of? as that, (16:11, V\ e can certainly findy a rm and if Miss Grahame will accept the best we haAe to offerâ€"’ “ Miss ;l‘a}lallle came here to pay us a. visit,” he explained, with illâ€"concealed em- barrassment; “but I have persuaded her Lo return to the hotel at Lullingford, where she will be much more at her ease. \Ve have no accommodation in this wretched 01d ruin, you know.” But, while Nessa had 1: 0011 comimr to this conclusion, the woman had eu'iivedo at a far 11101 e definite estimation of her character, 11d decided, amongst othel things, that she 11 as :1 young person whom it would be far easier to lead than to drive. , \Vith the sweet expression still upon her face. Mrs. Redmond turned from Nessa to her husband, with the slightest interrogative lifting of her prettily-arched eyebrows. ' Mrs. Redmond smiled very sweetly, and bowed again. She was a very showy woman, tall and comely, with a. heavy plait of shining yellow hair; dark eyebrows and lashes ; and the most lovely pink-and-white complexion. Her white noise was a little too short, per- haps, and her upper lip a little too long ; but her mouth was as small, and her eyes as large and divinely blue, as the conventional angel’s. At a distance Nessa thought she could not be more than five or six-and-tweir ty, but, on closer examination, she suspect- ed herself in error. A little crease in the eyelid, a little pleat under the eye, a certain hardness and thinness in the mobile nostrils, and a pueker in her throat when she turned her head, made Nessa believe that she might be five or six-and-thirty, or even more ; for people with that sort of complexion look young so long. On the whole, Nessa felt disposed to like Mrs. Redmondfishe looked so amiable and simple, despite the touch of bistre under her eyes, which surely could not be natural. There was no helfifor it. Redmond, with a sufficiently bad grace, Introduced the two ladies. “Miss Grahame, myâ€"«ehâ€"step-daughter ; MES: Regimpnd, _my yify.” It was past ten when Redmond entered the house. Leaving his gun in the long hell, he opened the door of the library, that served now as a living room, and walked in with as good an air of carelessness as he icould assume. A lamp burnt on the oak table; the shade casting a bright glare of light upon the dark wood threw all beyond its circle into darkness. He looked furtive- 1y round, and then, encouraged by the siâ€" lence to hope that there was no one in the room, he tilted the shade and glanced be- yond. The light fell upon his wife, stretch- ed at full length on a, couch, and in pain tieular lit up her fine eyes, which were fixed on himself. “Hope I haven’t woke you up,” he said lightly. “No.” “Are you alone ‘3” “Yes.” “\Vhere’s Miss Grahame ‘3 ” “Gone to bed. ” There was nothing unusual in Mrs. Red- [mond’s laconic replies. Neither kof them 5 wasted words upon the other under ordinary ' circumstances. He began to think that ‘1 things were not so had as he had expected. 1 That 3'; frequently happens. He sat downY jfevling quiLe {uni-ably disposed towards his i wife. 4 v l 1 l “Way I ask what reason I have to fear you?” he asked 111 that l'ofty tone assumed by those people who put on what they call “side.” girl 1” His voice rose. “If you don’t fear her yet awhile, you do me.” Her voice rose also. "Sorry she’s gone," he said “I wanted to make it all light with her. You know I wante‘l to scml her back to Lullingford, be» cause I thought she would be such a bother to you, as we have only one servant here.” “She will not give me any trouble.” “ I should have come home before, but I me: that Johnson, don’t you know? and he would have me go home with him.” “Indeed I ” “Hope you didn‘t wait, dinner for me.” “No ; I knew you wouldn’t come home till you thought the comm was clear. You never do when you’re. afraid.” “Afr: (l ! You don’t suppose I fear that “One moment, dear,” said she, stopping short ; “do you know how much that fund was for keeping the house in repair?” “Two thousand pounds, I think.” “And as he has not spent a penny of the money on the place, he will have that nice little sum to answer for when the time comes to settle with you. He can put that off for three years ; but there’s another ac~ count that he will have to settle to-night. His day of reckoning with me has Come 1” The flyman had discharged the luggage, and was waiting at the gate to be paid. Nessa would have hastened her steps, but Mrs. Redmond detained her. " I might he able to explain it. Tell me, dear, who is the executor.” “ Mr. Redmond.” Mrs. Redmond’s face expressed no sur- prise now, but rather confirmation in a. forc- gone conclusion, as she nodded her head slowly, half closing her eyes, her small mouth so tightly pursed that her long upper lip formed an unbroken line with her chin, her thin nostrils whitening with their dila- tion. Nessa felt inexpressibly uncomfortable, finding in her hostility to Redmond an ally in his wife. She would rather have dealt with both as enemies or friends. “I suppose somebody is responsible for the estate,” said Mrs. Redmond, tenta- tivelx. “ In addition to the sum for your main- tenance, dear ‘2” “ Yeé; the two are quite distinct. You 511311.56? for )vougsfilf. ” “ No, I am not,” replied Nessa, in a tone of firmness that was not lost upon her obser- ant companion. “ Oh, it’s a shame to let the place go like this 1” she added, catching sight of a piece of carved wood on the heap of ivy that had been torn down from the bargeboard. “Yes; I know there is a, clause in the will providing a. certain fund for the execu- tor to employ in keeping the house and park in order. ” off, and is never at home. I’m sorry enough I ever came here; and so are you, dear, already, I daresay.” , , , a. “ I daresay not. I would not have come if I had known what it was like. It’s like a horrid old church, and the rooms smell like vaults. And, lookiâ€"nothing but trees to be seen. I dctest the country.” “ Then why did you come ‘2” “Because 'my husband talked about a pony chaise, and a fine old mansion, and shooting parties, and the society of good old country families. I got the pony chaiseâ€" before I left London; but as to the restâ€" well, that’s the fine old mansion, the only shooting party I’ve seen is my husband, and the nearest good old family lives three miles _ It was a long, gabled building, standing on a. terrace, with a. gatehouse in the middle flanked by two towers, the gate opening on to a courtyard beyond. The face of the west wing was completely covered with ivy ; the growth on the east wing had been cut away in places to give light to the windows of the inhabited rooms, and stripped down from the richly-carved bargeboard of the end gable. The gatehouse and one of the towers alone showed the rich red bricks of the bu ildâ€" ing and something of its fine architectural details. One of the chimney stacks in the west wing had fallen ; there was ablack hole in the lichen-covered roof Where the tiles had been broken in. The weathercock over the gate had lost two of its arms ; a rusted beacon basket hung from an iron gibbet on the tower. I t was very picturesque, but particularly dismal. The ornamental grounds in the foreground gave evidence of neglect that was hardly less depressing to Nessa’s spirits than the signs of decay in the fine old house. What must at one time have been a. smooth lawn was now nothing but a waste of rank grass and thistles; clumps of brier and bramble marked the place of flower beds. The yew hedge skirting the lawn was ragged and patchy; the trimmed figures in it had grown into shapeless monsters; there was not even a wild flower to give a touch of gaiety to the sombre scene. “Oh, I didn’t think it was like this Nessa exclaimed, with an acpent 9f regret murmured, “Oh, you dear, dear, generous, kind-hearted friend 1” A DAY OF RECKONING. An embarrassing silence succeeded Mrs. Redmond’s effusive outburst as they walked on, and then, happil , Nessa found some- thing else to think u out and talk about as they came to the end of the drive and she got a fair view of the house. CHAPTER IV. "I should have sat up all night to speak to you on the subject.” She paused again, giving him time to get the idea she had led up to. “We have been a, long while coming to the point; but I thought it might be worth while,” she continued in the same slow, sug- gestive undertone. CK‘ “Can you advantage?” him steadily question. friends. ” ‘ ‘None?” “ Deajd horse '. If you had the spirit of 8. our I could hate you less.” “ You can do yourself no good; she can’t touch a farthing of her fortune for three years. \Vhy not let things go 011 till the worst comes.” “ Do you think the girl will wait passive- ly while you rob her for three years? Not she. She doesn’t need my helpâ€"doesn’t want it. If I help her it is simply to help myseH.” "‘She can do nothing withoucmoney. You have not lent her anythin ‘3” “N0 ” “Then what can she do? She has 110 g “Not a. soul. She can’t get to London without money; and if she couhl, what hmw yer would open a suit in Chancery without seeing his fees? You have not promised to take her to a, lawyer?” “ It wouldn’t matter what I had promised if I altered my purpose.” “‘You won’t take her, Maud,” he entreab She turned her shoulder upon him with a. Jerk, and an exclamation of disgust and contempt. She had seated hersélf, and sat tapping the ground impatiently with her feet. Hex- silence encouraged 11in} to hope faintly. _. _ “ It s 110 good flogging a dead hoxse,” he muttered. He wiped the perspiration from his face with his trembling hand. “l’ve done everything for the best,” he whined. “ God knows I haven’t got much pleasure by it. It was 11.11 for you. I shouldn’t have done it for myself. You won’t hunt me down for that. will you ?” “ How much is there left of that money '2’ “ Not a. penny. I’m cutting the trees to pay ydur debts. It’s you who have spent it all. I am a. careful man.” “ You will have to be more careful in the futureâ€"especially in your dealings with women. Before a week’s out you will have to answer for the money you have misap- propriated, and you won’t cut a. stick, unless it’s your own, after to-Jnon‘ow. ” . “Yes, I did. I took her brother’s name out of the codicil and‘put in myown. That was safe. It gave us twelve thousand pounds-and you’ve hadlyour share of it. I didn’t; do that without; risk. The will would have been disputed if the brother hadn’t died in the very nick of time, thank God “You thought only of your own comfort â€"â€"of sleeping easily. You never thought of me. You were content with having tricked meâ€"with taking me out of the pro- fession to satisfy your wretched jealousy, with leadingmc to throw away a, dozen chances of settling well. I might have had any man I chose to look at.” “You preferred me. ” “Why? Not for your virtues. You know it was for a, fortune I accepted you. And having got me to believe in your pm ise, you (lid nothing to fulfil it.” “I should have been found out ; she had already made a will~â€"the will that exists. It was too obvious ; and Iâ€"I~I couldn’t get the signature right. 1&1 couldn’t sleep until it was burnt.” “ The will you showed me when your wife was dying, was a. forgeryâ€"â€"you admit it"â€" 111}: did ~not ery it _but _sat in stolid silenceâ€" “ you forged it to hoodwink me. I believed it was a forgery, but I gave you credit for enough courage to stand by the forgery for your own sake. Why didn’t you let the will stand, you fool ‘Z’ He did not attempt to defend himself. She looked at him, the supine villain, in mute disgust for a minute; then he rage rising again with the sense that; she had been waxed b'y such a. creature, she con- tinued: “supposing it is V.” she said dropping her feet to the ground quickly. “Supposing it is l” she re lied, rising and coming toward him with s ow steps that kept time to her words. “ You lying, cowardly, mean, mis- erable, crawling ca.d~you know it is! And you ask me what I shall do, as if I were fool enough to show my hand to such a shuffling trickster as you. One thing you may be sure ofâ€"I shan’t stay to go down in a sinking ship with you. And go down you will, as surely as any other fool who puts out in a. rotten shell. I shall see you in rags whining for charity to the girl you have robbedâ€"if you are not sent to prison for robbing children in the streets; that’s the only crime you have the "courage for.” 11- “ And what; shall we do,” he asked with an éfi'ort, “ supposing the will ls in fax 0111 of thatflgirl. 9”» At length, affecting a yawn, and stretch- ing hls 311 ms, he saidâ€" “Are you coming up now. V” (g No H “ Well, I shall. I’m done up. By the way,” he added,1ising, “ I think I shall go 0v er to the Moor f01 three or four days’ shooting.’ “ You needn’t stay away so long. Miss Graham is going to-morrow.” “Oh, Wll, I’m glad of that. VVhere’s she going 1’” “ To London with me.” “ ‘Vhat are you gomg there for ‘3” “To see your wife’s will at Somerset House.” “ You know what’s in that will,” he said, with difficulty steadying his voice. “ I know what was in the will you showed me when your wife was dying. She left everything to her ‘dear husband, James Redmond.’ But that does not agree with the copy Miss Grahame showed me this evening, in which your wife leaves every thing to her ‘ dear daughter, Venessa Gra- hame.’ I’m going to find out the truth with my young friend.” “You fear me, I suppose, because you have not a great stock. 0: courage. If you cannot imagine any other reason, it’s not worth the trouble of talking about.” you “No, I don’t.” “There, we will say no more about it.” And by a. considerable effort of self-control she maintained a silence that; perplexed and troubled her husband. “0h, of course, you are angry because I didn’t, tell you of the existence of this girl. What was the use of telling you ? You would only have worried about it.” “And you do not like being worried, do up! Sh; turne'd abdilt and lookezl in the face as she slowly put the suggest anything more to my The French colonial authorities insist, in opposition to some recent Views, that their war with Dahomey was forced upon them. It began, they say, by King Gelele’s invasion of their protectorate of Porto Novo, where he plundered and burned many settlements, carrying off a thousand of the people, a part of whom were sold as slaves andthe rest kept by him in captivity. A French oflicer sent to remonstrate was told by the King that he recognized no French protectorate in Porto Novo, and that his action was expressly meant to show this. That oliicer saw hun- dreds of human beings sacrificed at the royal ceremonies. 0n the d'ath of Gelele, his successor, King Kondo, renewed the war, and attacked a body of Senegal native troops whom the French antln ' ies had sent to reinforce the garrison of Kotonou, a port claimed by Dahomey as well as by France. These attacks were repulsed, but some Frenchmen who had 'isked remaining in VVhydah, a place belonging to Dahomey, were seized and imprisoned The subse- quent hostilities as well as the negotiations for the release of the prisoners have been mentioned from time to time in the dis- patches. Of course the essential question whether France occupied Porto Novo in violation of the rights of Dahomey still re- mains ; but there is no doubt that she repre- sents the movement of civilization against one of the strongholds of African barbarism; The King of Uganda might he pardoned if he should claim that the principles of Christianity do not {thy ys work satisfactori- ly in that Central African kingdom. \Vhen Spoke discovered that country he found the brothers of the King in chains and about to suifer death because they were of royal blood and might menace the public; peace by making claims on the throne. The missonaries induced M’wanga. to suspend the custom when he came to the throne, and one of them, Karema, has plunged the country into civil war, utilizing the chance when he was in power to kill all his brothers except M’wanga, who was out of reach. As the civil war is still in progress, the heathen must be convinced that the old way of securing the public peace was much better suited at Uganda than the foreign innovation of lettingthe superfluous princes live. This may not be perfect logic ; but it is strongly akin to the arguments by which the injuriousness of economic forces is de- monstrated, for the vindication of trusts of pools. ‘ The young Duke of Orleans is still pining in prison at Clairvaux, but a. good many people would not mind changing places with him. He spends the greater part of the day in the beautiful garden receiving visitors or playing with a pet monkey, and when e11- nui supervenes he works at making rustic seats. Thirdly, if we are to attach any impala; tauce toa. mass of medical evidence, the, form of abstinence which consists in the entire abandonment of all intoxicants in Lent would certainly do no harm to the vastmnjority and might become in time a. new means to promote that national growth in temperance which if once it reaches the poorer classes would be the cure for some of their deadliest and most appalling mis« eries. â€"â€"[Ai'chdea.con Fairer. Secondly, I venture to believe that all society would gain by diminishing the con- sumption of meat. Queen Elizabeth ordered a. fish diet on Wednesdays and Fridays, not for any ecclesiastical reason but (ostensibly at any rate, to encourage the fish trade, and to diminish the demand for flesh. That in~ terferenee with the market was not wise; but I think that the adherents of the Veg- etarian Society will do good if they per- suade multitudes to learn the value of wholemeal bread, and oatmeal, and vegâ€" etables, and fruit, and not rely so exclu- sively on beef and mutton. The poor especially might find in porridge and lentil soup and well-cooked vegetables 3. far cheaper, more wholesome, and more sus- taining diet than the often unsatisfactory, coarse, and even unwholesome scraps which they buy from the butchers at a far greater cost. at all of these, and various lighter “nips” am “afternoon teas” intermixed, is a not uncommon allowance : and as all wise doc- tors tell us, it is far more than is desirable for any one, unless it be for vigorously growing boys and athletes who take an im- mense amount of exercise in the open air. It is told of one of the most eminent physia cians of the day that visiting a person of im portanee he excited him to something like fury by saying: “There is nothing in the world the matter with you except this : you eat too much and you drink too much.” “I sent for you, Sir, to give me a, medical opin- ion,” was the reply, “and I wanted to be cured from gout, rheumatism, and other maladies from which I am suffering.” “And I have given you my medical opinion,” re- plied the physician : “there is nothing in the world the matter with you except that you eat too much and drink too much. And my fee for visiting you is twenty guineas.” The patient paid it with a paroxysni of in- dignation, but the advice might have been more valuable to many patients than a hun- dred prescriptions. “ Bah !” she exclaimed, turning away once more in impatient disgust. “ You are only fit to be a pickpocket.” And then, as quick- ly turning back upon him, “Do you think I am to be satisfied with despicable pilfering? Do you think a few poundsâ€"u few thousands, if you likeâ€"do you think that will recomâ€" pense me for the best years of my life that have been thrown away upon you?” “ Of course I will do all I can for you. Three years is a. good long time. And the timber is valuable.” “ What can I do ‘2” Be fiskéd in a piteous ton e_9_f~ helplessness. “ What A can you do ‘2” she repeated. “ \Vhy, get me the whole of that, fortune“ 1' which I marl-kid y_011. " “How can I~LhOW can I? The money can only come to me, even by that codicil, in the event of the girl:s dung.” A “You’ve got it it last? That’s it ! The girl must die 1” Fasting for Ono’s Sins. First I think that, far short of enfeebling and fretting hunger, which is unnatural and seems to me frequently to cause as evil an effect morally as it does physically, it would be a very good thing for nearly all men if they were more moderate in the quantity of food habitually taken. Three very hearty and almost plethoric meals a day, with meat The Heathen’s Way The Best. The African King the Cause. (TO BE comm UED.)