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fHE NEW INMATE 0F HILFONT. Returning back, after the little episode which concerns Bertie, to the quietness of our succeeding life, when Bertie took himA self away, I could not help observing that Lucy must have some very faithful corres- pondents. I am sure she got a letter every second day at least, and often more ; and generally put her letters in her pocket. and kept them till she went upstairs. I had not taken to myself any authority over Lucy, nor attempted to interfere with her as if she was under my control. Perhaps at her years, and in her lonely condition I ought to have inquired more particularly, but I did not “see my Way;” so I made no inquiry about the letters, and feeling rather curious, I put restraint upon myself, and never looked again at those which were laid upon the hall table before gathering them into the posting. Once I met one of the maids coming down-stairs, just as the bag - was being closed, with Miss Crofton’s let. ters. " Miss Crofton’s never ready till the last minute,” said the, man, with a lit- the ill-humor ; and though my conversation with Lucy had not dwelt in my mind, I could not help recurring to it for a moment, and trying to recollect what she had told me. Her father's man, Somers, and the rich family of Mr. Rroom â€"â€"What was it? I had already forgotten, and could not be' stimulated into recollection by so slight a pressure. Other events made me find my memory, but these were not now. Yet,!was it possible'that Lucy knew so little of me that she she sent down her letters by a private emissary, for fear I should look at them while they lay in the hall? Dex-went shrugged his shoulders. “The short and the long of it is that; you want to be a. legislature. Clare. I dare say, if you assail him as you have done me, your son- iu-law, Hugh Sedgewick, will vote as you bid him ; but don't make any further plots, I beg of you, against my life. Do you sup- pose they superinteud the good of the world in Parliament? I did not. think you were quite so green a. politician asAbhat.“ “Veryu well, hever mind Parliament,” said I ; “but do something Derweubâ€"thab is all I wish.” “Then you shall be satisfied instantly. Clare. I am going to readihe paper,” said my incorrigible husband, and I Sighed and gave up the hopeless attempt. So the county elected,in room of old Mr. Drnmlie, the brilliant lawyer, Mr. Phelim Pleader, who was an Irishman and an armor, and had no opinions to speak of; and I swal- lowed my disappointment as I best might, and became rather misanthropical about the House of Commons, in which I began to fear, Derwent said, I should never have a seat. And so the winter passed. Lent, which, instead of a season of morbification, was to Clam Harley and all her friendea. season of considerable excitement, came on, and me We went out but little for some weeks after that ; the weather was severe, we Were alone, and I was tired of my past ex- ertions in the way of company. Then it was drawing near the time of the elections in the nothern district of our big county, and I was extremely anxious to stir Der- went up to the point of offering himself \as candidate. I made his life miserable, I am thankful to say. I gave him no restâ€"l left him no pleasure either in dressing-gown or novelâ€"I made a perpetual succession of political speeches to himâ€"all of which however I am obliged to confess, Derwent bore with a very great degree of placidity and non-resisting courage. “’hen I drove him out of my dressing-room. out of the breakfasbroom, out of even the ex- clusive personal ground of his own library, Derwent sustained the assault like a. hero, but he was not to be moved. Though I myself took to the ” Times” and read it sedulouslyâ€"thoughIstudied with devotion, and always in his presence, the interesting pages of the “ Simonburgh Chronicle"â€" though I gave hints to our gentlemen visit- ors, and wrote two different but most elaborate secret epistles, one to our London solicitor, a. man whom Derwent trusted greatly, and the other to Robert Crofton, urging them both to add their exertions to mine for his desirable objectâ€"l am grieved to say that 1 failed entirely ; Derwent was not to be moved by any argument or endeavor of mind. again not.” “I should be content with anything,” said I “that employed your life and your talents for the good of the world.” “The less we say about that the better,” said Derwenv, shaking his head. “Nobody will be very much the wiser for knowing what I am. Are you willing to shut your- self up in some dingy square in town from February to August? Are you content to lose sight. of me altogether from ten o’clock 10-day bill two o’clock bn-mor- row morning ;and to carry a poor gasping sinner home in September to get him alive “ Why should I make my life a trouble to myself and everybody else 7” said Derwenc; “ do you want to write yourself M.P.. you ambitious Clare? Franks are no longer possible, and nobody waan to arrest meâ€" Whp should I go into Parliament? I am veryfomfornaple, thank you, here.” “ Oh, Derwent, how can you speak so '3" said Ljustly aggravated and out of patience. “ Of course you are everything to meâ€"and of course I am ambitious. I want; you to serve your Countryâ€"I want everybody to know what; you are/f At which my husband only laughed. “Oh, yes, I am,” he said. “I am not flighty, nor an innovator. I am the balance of the country, and preserve its equilibrium ; the vessel wants ballast a well as sails, and I flatter myself, though you are so very far from complimentary, that I am of some use to yqli.” “- Derwent ll" I exclair'ned', indignautly, “ on are of no use in the world"’ 5’ , Much 6bliged, bu? I’d rather CHAPTER XVII. A THRILLING STORY OF OLD 1 : “It was natural, aunt,” said Lucy; “and L y' I am sure I do not, expect, people to think Oh of me; but when you say that, I remember ’ old times. \Vhen I left poor papa. for a day, 1 used to tremble if I saw any one approach in a hurry. Pray forgive me, .Aunt Clare. I feel quite sick and giddy, ! as if something was going to happen: but I what can happen that would aflecc me '3 I use ’I have not another father to lose," nor Lhe the i I far I As the time progressed. messages went and came perpetually between the two I houses. Miss Austin, somewhat dlsLurbed in her grave auperintendeuce of the Escourb girlB,-&nd afraid of the affect. upon these l susceptible little personages which would be made by a. wedding, became flurriezl,and wm consznnnly sending to me for orders; and the marrying of Clara Harley seemed | likely to be rather a troublesome business. \Ve had arranged to leave Hilfont on the Tuesday of that Easter week, and were to be joined at Escourt, by Mrs. Harley and r her family, and Thursday was the wedding- 1 day. number of weeks which lay between Clara and her marriage day lessened one by one. \Ve had compromised our former proposal about her marriage. It was to take place at Estcourt, where, for that week, we were all to remove, and Clara. Was to he married in the old church where she had been christened, her father’s church, which Was dear to the family for his sake, I was pleas- ed and touched by this arrangement. which was suggested by the two girls themselves, Alice being spokeswoman “Estcourt has been our home so long, We have so many pleasant feelings connected ’witn it,” said Alice, and with a sweet seriousness which meant more than it said. “lfyou will per- mitit, Mrs. Croiton; everything that has happened to us led our thoughts there.” She certainly looked quite well, and pas, sed me to her own room with a quiet scep- nob caring to linger, as I thought. I had no time to make further inquiries, if any injuries could have been made; but. felt a vague suwpicmn of something hidden and clandestine which I could not explain. It was early April, moist weather. balmy, showery, and spring-like. It anything, I . think there Was rather too much “ taste" shown in the embellishment of Estcourt. All the early flowers which could be found or coaxed into bloom. or that could be stolen or begged from the florists round, adorned in profusion every room in the house. and the children were in a. condition of excite- ‘ment which I should find it difficult to describe. Clara. could scarcely move any- 'where Without an admiring train of little \girl& after her, every one of whom had the . list of onrbride’s weddingvpresents by heart, [and knew what every one hurl given her, and every one of whom also throbbed with a. mighty secret which Clara. as yet did not know, We dined at Estcourt that Tuesday, a very large party. including the bridegroom and sundry friends of his. Maurice Harley, who was now a Fellow of his college, and ‘ rather a great personage, sat by me. He I had spent most ofbis time since his father’s jdeath with Mr. Harley’s rich uncle. Now, I was still puzzled, suspicious, curio us. but her tone touched me. It sounded as if iher loneliness was recalled to her by my X inad verbent Words.‘i “I beg your pardon, Lucy,” said I, ‘ ‘I did not mean to wound you, I was think- iing more of myself and Mr. Crofbon than of . you.” “And I trust many pleasant, things may happen yet to turn your future choughns in the same direction,” said I, frequently, and with a. good deal of emphasis. Alice turned half round to look at me and dis- cover What I meant. She colored a little, and turned away witlhoutaword. Perhaps Alice could guess without. being told. On Monday I was in the Village seeing some of my cottage friends, on my way home from church, and Lucy was as usnal with me. It was one of Lucy’s principles to be always with me. “It, was so sad,"she said, “for Aunt. Clare to be so much alone,”and the good girl devoted herself to me with unwavering assiduity. As we passed down the village street/,1 was much surprised to see a gentleman’s cab standing before the door of the little inn-a very dashing equipage. unknown to these rural quarters. The horse stood trembling and smoking in the harness, evidently still suffering from the excitement. of furious speed, and from the inn wmdow a young man regarded the operations of the hosnler who came forward to assist a atiny groom in attending to the weaned animal. I did not observe the young man much; but he was evidently the owner of the vehicle, a visioor unaccustomed to these parts. I “How very strange !” said I. “Lucy, do you see that cal)? Who cah it be. I wond- er? If the election had not. been over I should have supposed an electioneering agent : somebody With urgent, news, I sup- pose. We are happier than most, peOple ; we have no one :fxom whom dispatches of life and death are likely to come.” But. Lucy did not answer me. She gave a slight start, so slight that. in was scarcely describable by that word, and grew pale over all her face, with a strange chill white- ness, as if of fear. I thoughb she looked toward the inn window, and fraised her hand in sudden slightslgnal to somebody. I became still more surprised. “Do you know who it Iis? Do you ex- pect may one '2” I asked, in momentary anxiety and alarm. “I l” said Lucy. turning her face to me with its usual smile and usual color. “Dear Aunt Clare, how should I know who it is? I have no one to expect now, and, as you say, no one in the world who would send to me dispatches of life and death." “I think 1 will, aunt,” said Lucy. “if you are sure you do non want me. ’ and after a. few words more she did leave me, to return to Hilfont. Poor Lucy she had feelings afxer all. Yet, after I had returned myself, and had been for some time in the house, Iencountered Lucy, still shawled and bonnebed, enteriug by a side-door. She had been in the garden. she said, the air did her good, and certainly her cheeks bloomed into sudden color as she met, my eye. “I have been wandering aboutin the garden since ever I left. you," said Lucy; “it is very mild today, and now I feelquite well." “My dear, I am very sorry. ' I fear you are ill,” said I; “perhaps you oughb to go home.” CHAPTER XVIII. ENGLAND. his fellowship made the young mal dent, but. the habit. of his pre remained. He waa bus 8. limle in, and not. very n’uch acquainted own family, and was otreleSsly cr. ing to Clara and Alice. “mere pre whom, being his sisters, he could love with, and consequently Ire very trifling amenuon. I could looking at. my girls With some after half an hour of Mr. Maui-1c the presumpbion to think I had be Maser, and than my scholars v much more natural and loval natures than hers. That evening, when We lalies went into the drawing-room, we found everything arranged for a grand ceremonial. The girls and the servants by jointand extraord- inary exertions had manufactured a. sort of dais, elevated a couple of steps above the level of the floor, at the upper end of the room. On this dais stood a grand old elbow-chair, one of the antiquities of the house, supported by a gilt and velvet-coverâ€" ed ‘ootstool. Before the chair stood a. small table, and spread over the table, falling down to the floor in heavy folds of needle- work, was the mysterious work which had absorbed all Estcourt for three months past â€"the table-cover wrought in twelve squares with the arms of the Harleys and of the Sedgewicks impaled in the middle(l suspect the rector did this kind hit of heraldry for them), which was the present ofour children to the Estcourt bride. We were marshalled to seats with great solemnity by a young mistress of ceremonies, who conducted me to the throne on the dais. Then the kind girl, the eldest of the twelve, stood up before me to make a speech. But when the young spokeswoman cast her first glance on the audience, she became frightened. Old Mrs. Sedgewick clapped her hands, and struck on the floor with the foot. and cried “Hem!” in encouragement. Miss Austin, who was standing by, gave an admonishing and anxious look, and all the girls grew very red, and glanced in sympathy. But the speech Would not come. After a moment’s pause. the representative of the school rose from her place to C.ara’s arms. “ Oh, Clara, take it with all our loves '.” cried the broken-down orator, and as all the remaining eleven rushed after her to echo the sentiment, the scene became rather tumultuous and ir- regular, till order was restored. Then we all admired and examined, to the heart’s content of the young laborers. and dismiss‘ ed them in the highestspirits to a refection of cakes and fruit in Miss Austin’s room. There never had been such a holiday in the children’s recollection ; my own marriage was a very dull affair in c imparison ; and they had to try on and examine their white frocks, which arrived from London along with Clara's wedding-dress that night. But don’t be indignant, charitable public; they were very pretty, but they were only white muslin; and what with letting down of tucks and altering of trimmings. they last- ed for, I will not venture to say how many years; so I was strictly economical, as every- body must perceive. “Happy is the bride that the aim shinezl on,” I said to myself, next morning. I E Went, Lo Clara’s room to find her dressed and ready. Poor Mrs. Harley was endeav- ‘ oring to swallowacnp of tea. in somewhat hysterical gulps, and very like to be angry with Alice,who had brought her something i more substantial by way of breakfast. She I was a. tender-hearted woman, irresolute and feeble-minded, but kind to the extreme l of kindness, and cried. without very well l knowing why over her pretty child. I too, l In the meantime. Lucy made Nancy very useful. She could make up weddipg favors with the greatest skill, it appeared, and had very tolerable taste in the arrangement of flowers -, and then was never flurried nor hurried, northrown out of composureâ€"a. misfortune which everybody else in the house was somewhat subject to. As for Clara and her mother, they hardly appeared down-stairs at all that day, and the house- hold was full of excitement and agitation, greatly stimulated by the half-subdued riot of the children, who ran wild and forgot their propriety, and kept the officers of the ceremonial in a state of perpetual frizht and terror. The drawing-room, which was the only quiet room in the house, was preternaturally quiet in the midst of the bustle. Derwsnt sat yawning over his newspaper, and Mr. Sedgewick, pretending to be reading, waited with tantalized impatience for the appearance of the little bride, who was shut up with her mother, and had not the remotest intention of showing herself agiin to-night. Iwas too restless to do anything. I weutwander- ing about the room, examining into all the odd corners, and I dare say adding to the discomfortable and excited quietness by my movements. The only other persons in the room were Bertie and Lucy, who whispered and laughed together at a table where Lucy was heaping up her wedding favors into a basket ready for use. They were merry enough. but talked under their breath, sometimes disturbing Mr. Sedgewick. who looked at them half-angrily, some- timesattractingDerwent’s attention fora mo- ment. The group struck me once as I passed by them. Lucy dropping the white satin ribbons slowly out of her pretty fingers, one by one ; Bertie leaning over in commenting on their manufacture : the two heads very close together, his bending down upon hers, by necessity of his superior heightâ€"a very pretty group, but I could not help thinking for the instant that Ber- tie looked rather too happy. Vilhy was not he. too, watching the door, like Mr. Sedgewick ‘3 The thought pursued me even afterl Went west. Supposing any- body had made a picture of these two figures, what name sh mld it have borne '1 Nonsense ‘. Irejected the thought angrily as a mere gratuitous vexation. Why should I permit myself, in the merest freak of fancy, to do Bertie so much wrong. Next day‘ Bertie Nngent arriverl quite‘ unexpectedly at Estcourt. I had not look- for him, in consequence of his long visit at Christmas, but he protesteil he could not let little Clara. he married without being near to help, and brought his present for her, whi3h I dare say made a great hole in the poor boy‘s pocket-money, besides bringing asmsll hamper of bouquets from Covent Garden, which I am afraid some of the children must have made private application for. I was very much pleased, on the whole, that Bertie had come, remembering, in my new role of match-maker, that one marriage is apt to produce others. Alice and he, it is true, seemed rather reserved and distant to each other, and behaved in a. manner very difierent from their old familiarityâ€" Alice, in particular, who was as stately as a. princess : but I rather hoped that this Wes the best possible sign. hnlars w re very and lovable human ung man mdepen- his previous life e interestel the the old the I And even at this moment,in the distance yonder towards the sunseb, are two figures. And one of them is Bertie. Has Alice Harley left; comforting her mother? Is it lshe over Whom he is bendingâ€"whom he leads among the limes which give no cover nowâ€"ab that slow lingering,pleasanb pace ‘2 I suppose soâ€"of course ! So I had better return ill-doors, in case Bertie, when he comes back, may have something to say. (To BE CONTINUED.) straight, Mrs. Harley and Alice shut themselvesup upstairs after our guests, and were invis- ible for the remainder oi the day. Maurie Harley secured Derwent in the library, and tempted him with discussions of those phil- osophies which young men love,undmen who have been young retain a. hankering after. The children broke forth in legitimate riot into the gardenmhither I followed, taking a. sober walk with Miss Austin, to speak of the affairs of the school. Everything was very luxuriant and well preserved, for I had not the heart to sacrifice to any econ- omy the beauty of the Estcourt gardens ; and the children were running to me now and then with little knots of violets, gathered in shady places below the trees -, and once a. full procession hearing in tri- umph one faint lily of the valley, the very first that had been seen or heard of in these parts. Then we came to the terrace in front of the house. where we could see the park with all its trees stirring to the spring. It was a. pretty sceneâ€"the very name of itself was full of suggestions ;and one could not see these buds greening faintly the bare branches of the trees, without thinking of all the summer wealth of foliageâ€"the culmination ofthis beginning life. My thoughts were full of another life, which I hoped was at its beginning too. I almost thought I could see Alice Harley, when she was Alice Nugent, walking among these trees, and lingered on the terrace, smiling over my own thoughts. It would therefore be of considerable interest to have at our diposal for the manufacture of rifle balls 9. metal of reason- able price and heavier than lead. One of the metals upon which hopes may be founded 13 tungsten. This metal, which is nlmostas hard as steel, has a. density vary- ing from 17 to 19.3, say one and a half times that of lead. By reason of such qualities balls of tungsten of equal dimen- sions possess a power of penetration much greater than that of lead. Thus, a. tungs- ten ball penetrates asteel plate three inches in thickness at a. distance of (550 yards, while a similar one or lead penetrates a ‘2éf-inch plate at 325 yards only. The pre- sent obstacle to the use of tungsten is its relatively high price, but there are indica- tions that it will get cheaper. The Post 0mm Robbed Right and Left by Dishonest Employm. A City of Mexico despatc'n says :â€"The official investigation which the Government has been conducting the last few days into the Post Office department of this city and other parts of the republic has revealed a startling condition of affairs, and there will be a wholesale weeding out of the dishono est employee in the service in difl'erent parts of Mexico. It has been shown that the local Post Otlice has been systematically robbed of sums of money, which in the aggregate, amount to over $100,000. The shortage of the Postmaster. Manuel Nava, amounts to over $50,000, and that of the cashier of the office to about $14,000. Six employes of the City Postal Bureau have also been arrested, investigation showing that their shortage amounts to a. consider- able sum, but the exact amount has not been made public. The investigation is be- ing extended to all parts of the republic, with the result already that big shortages have been discovered in not less than three of the large Post Offices outside of this city. Postmaster Nave of this city is still a fugitive from justice. Tumult-n The reduction of the calibre of guns is necessarily accompanied by a. diminution in the weight. of the projectile. The length of the latter, in fact, cannot exceed acer- tain limit, beyond which it, would no longer have sufficient stability in its trajectory. Teacherâ€"What. little boy can tell me the name of the:: worst nation on earth? Bobby? Bobbyâ€"Vaccination. hen-ma b, and smooLhed woman in the ho 1-maid. Why “004 Learned by Experience. BOODLERS IN MEXICO. THE RIFLE BALL. May Take lhv Plat-cor Leml Fur Bullet linking. “all her nair : so 'jispoged to qty, and shrank me she was )Wn 0:13.: the ok a] , and the l to our pro- re blocks rley had groaninz ing the resem h board. extrema hurl in; we. 'ent oir. Lree irst und der r of rent this re- and tige- the re- st of mod ire. ! .fter ider I re mid lung is e, sup wis- uric and )hil- who 'ter. riot ring I: of was hoard. Under these circumstances any extensivs improvement in the C. P. l’. prop- erty. such, for instance, as excavations for irrigation, would Le as likely to benefit the public as the railway lands. This of course was not contemplated when the grant was made, for it is only of recent years that the success of irrigation has been demonstrated. In the Western States the Watering of land by artificial means has admittedly produced These will be best understood by consider- ing the rise in values already effected. In Southern California, land that. previously sold at $1.25 an acre has, by irrigation,been converted into fruit farms worth now$3.000 an acre. No one need expect such excepâ€" tional results in the \‘\ est, but thatimprove- ment of a substantial nature can be effected there can be no doubt, for in less promising parts of the neighboring republic than California. irrigation has proved a. good in- vcstment. The last census of that country shows that u77,490,000 invested in this way has within a. few years grown to the sum of $296,850.000 consequently we find that irrigation bonds are regarded in the British market as gilt-edged security. In- deed, so enthusiastic have become some of the advocates of the canal plat: of watering land that they are bold enough to assert. it is better than Nature’s method of supplying moisture from the clouds. But in Canada 'we do not need to go that far, since the West as a whole has a. fair share of rain, though. perhaps, in some places, not suffi- cient to fully meet the requirements of the soil. It is to make the farmer MORE INDEPENDENT of the elements, and to enable him the better to meet‘his competitors, that irri- gation is proposed. The necessity for the system is so fully recognized in the West that new companies are consequently asking Parliament for authority to undertake the work for different localities. This session, to facilitate their organization, the Govern‘ ment has introduced What willbe known as the Dominion Irrigation Act, and it is in- tended to be a general law upon the subject. We do not want it to go abroad that it is impossible to farm in the West without artificial assistance, for that is not the case. But the Canadian farmer is prugressive,and proposes to improve his opportunities i every possible way. That is why irrigatio is Wanted in the West. original Lerms of the grant, tne company Look alternate sent-ions, so that a. map show- ing the public and the milway lands. would resemble that iamihar obieccâ€"a checker- ‘l‘lu- Warm-In: o" lnml hv Artificial Means A correspondent in Shanghai sends t} e following translation of v.11 article from e Senpao, Shanghai: “We have spoken in several issues 0/? the ravages of the pestilence in Kwan‘étung province. For one hundred years \there have not been so many deaths duringa single pestilence. It has entered even: into official residences and attacked both civil and militaryofflcials, and their servants, generally from other places, are fleeing to their homes. Charitable institutions are giving coffins, and Within three months have distributed several thousands, one institution alone givmg over one thousand. The people who have bought coffins are without number~altogether, so far, over 10,000 persons have died of the plague. Still the ravages of the pestilence are worse day by day. The cotfins of the charity homes are used up, given all away, and, now, matting has to be used to Wrap up the dead bodies [a deep misfortune from a. Chinese poiotof View]. As to the nature of the disease. it begins with a. rising about the Size of a plum at the largest, or a. bean at the smallest, very painful, accompanied by a pain in the stomach. In a. little while; unconsciousness or deliriousness iollows. and medicine is unavailing. The only remedy is when the diease is taken at its beginning: needles inserted in the patient’s body in several places, and on the needle is burned moxa. made from mug- wort. This seems to he a relief. Th disease is called the ‘Serpent Mark.’ Th cause seems to be atmospheric. There wad one noted physician successful with th disease, but his patients. after hehad mad them well, again took the disease and died This physicianâ€"named Liâ€" gave it up, saying, ‘Heaven not man can contr I this pestilence,’ and heâ€"not a Kwaugtu g manâ€"has returned to his home. The p o- minent men of the province consulted to bring in able physicians from elsewher to treat the people without charge. T(hey have arrived, and are beset with patients without number.” ‘ 23 pounds for one pound of butter. He resolved to try the experiment of adding to their feed pure beef tallow. He fed at first one-quarter of a. pound twice a. day, shaved and mixed with their grain ration. Within about two weeks heincreased the amount to two pounds of tallow per day. The re- sult of this experiment was that: instead of requiring ‘23 pounds of milk for one puund of butter, after the feeding of the lard had fairly got in its work on the cows’ systems only 183; pounds of milk were required for one pound of butter. A correspondent of Hoax-«1’s Dairymsn thinks that he has some practicalexperience to negative the work done by many experi- meub stations relative to the possibility of feeding fat. into milk. He hnarfour cows which on ordinary feed gave milk requiring lpparently No Abatement of the Terribfle I'f'iflleufl‘ In ('llinn. I Aunty (finishing story)â€"-And so Prince Goody-good married her and they live& hagpy ever: aftgrvgayfiq. ‘v n fieien (thoughtfullyâ€"Now (ell us a. true story, uumy. IRRIGATION IN THE WEST‘ THE BLACK PLAGUE. Fed His Cows Tallow. A Wee Connoisseur. m1 IH‘ Ml ‘Iurvelloun Resulk. :1 Parliament is varia- 3 land subsidy is evi- with irrigation in the :9 scale. Under the unau‘xan