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LORD KlLL_E_El\_l:§ REVENGE CHAPTER XXX. The Coarse insult was not completed, he had barely time to notice how she blanched and shrunk from him in her but purity, when the sound of a wo- man's hurrying feet along the gravel- ed path caught her ear. All minor pas- sions died then, her heart flew back to her child. She confronted the nurse (who now appeared, breathless. pale. and terrified). and cried aloud to her in her terror, with white lips, and hands tightly pressed against her bosom. “What is it? \Vhat 1" she gasped. "The baby, my lady. She is not so well. The doctor is with her. Heâ€"" “She is not dead!" said Lady Varley in a. low, awful tone. She looked at the woman as though she would tear the answer from her. "Speak, woman, speak!" "Oh. no, my ladyâ€"God forbid. But the doctor-" ' Lady Varley did not hear her; she had rushed passed her, putting Varley. who was in her path, to one side by a quick gesture, as though he had been a branch. or some other inanimate ob- struction. She ran through the ivied gate and into the brilliant sunshine of the garden once more, seeing nothing, heading nothing, feeling numbed, blind. senseless. The lovely, glowing life around her seemed to mock at her mis- ery. The flowers that bloomed into a fresh existence every moment, what could they give to her of hope, since her sweet blossom was fading, dying! Yet, though she hurried past them with white lips and strained eyes that seem- ed dead to their beauties, and though she herself was unconsciOus that she saw them, the glory of that summer noon, dwelled with her, and cast a she- dow over her during the long years of her after life. She reached the nursery at last. What a year it was to her since that terrible moment when she had seen the anxious face of the woman! The doctor was there, bending over the little snowy cot, and Constantia came hurriedly forward as she entered. But she pushed her aside, and went up to the bed. She did not see even the doctor then, she saw only the tiny occupantâ€"she saw what was her life, her heart, her all! There seemed little change, but to the mother it was awful. She had fought passion- ately against the truth, but now it came home to her. Her darling was indeed going from her. She looked. She fell upon her knees. Some broken words came from her miserable lips: "Blessed Lord, have pity! Thy mergy it is greatâ€"it is everlasting! But: where is it 2" She fell forward on the bed: she had given up to despair. Constantia tried to raise her, but she repulsed her gen.â€" tly, and the doctor, who was a kindly man, and who understood, took her aside, and sent her into the boudoir to restâ€"and wait. He himself went into an adjoining chamber, that the poor mother might feel herself alone With her dying child. How the day went, no one knew; but the hours followed each other,and at last darkness fell upon the earth. Some one lighted the lamps, moving With .cautious step and slow; but no one spoke to Lady Varley, who crouched beside the bed with her eyes devouring her little one, as though she believe . it could not be taken from her, so long as she thus held'it in her sight. Now and then the doctor crept in and look- ed at the child; but nothing could be done for it. A gentle. sleep had caught it, the end of which would be death. And at midnight all was over! Lady Varley upon whose arm the little head was lying, made an inarticula'te cry, and threw out her unoccupied arm toâ€" ward the doctor in a mute agony that unnerved him, strong as he was. He can ht her hand and held it firmly. " at. us thank God," he said, “that there was no pain, no struggle." She flung him from her. i “I am thankful for nothing." she said defiantly. "Lady Varleyl such words just now! Look at her,” said the good doctor very tenderly. To look at the little, still, heavenly face, was to be indeed calmed. A cry broke from her in which all her heart went out. After awhile she spoke. :‘If I_mi,ght be alone with her," she said faintly; “she and Iâ€"together!" “I will arrange that for you," he said. She scarcely heard him; she had taken the small dead form into her arms and was crushing it against her breast as though she could still, by her own warmth, reanimate it. She had apâ€" parently forgotten him, and presently e Withdraw silently ; he did not desert her. however. All that night through he sat in a chamber, apart but near, where he could see her occasionally from the 0 on door, and where he could di- rect t e women who, after a little while. saw to the last solemn laying out of the peaceful. little body. By that time the gray dawn of the peaceful morning was stealing in; one of the women ha drawn back a curtain, but Lady Varley, by a silent, passion- ate gesture had compelled her to close it again. How was she to face. another day. bereft as she was! The child seem- ed still With hei whilst the darkness that had taken her away lasted, but to begin another day Without herâ€"she could not do that. ' She sat on, beside the little bed, hold- ing one of the child's dead hands with- in her ownâ€"tearless, comfortless, alone! Dr._ Moore, coming in presently and seeing the strange, set look upon her face. felt a little uneasy, and touched her shoulder and said something to her in a quick, energetic way. She assented listlessly as if not understandin , and with a sharp decision he himsel once more drew aside the curtains, and let a rush of early sunrise into, the room. That roused her. She started as if a knife had been plunged into her.und suddenly the anguish quickened in her 0 es. and all her ass grew plain to her. ut that was better hen the danger- ous apathy that had held her awhile I since. She looked haggard and wretch- ‘1 ed in the cold light of the growing day, .and utterly without hope. She had no husband, and 10-day she had no child; where was consolation to be looked for, under the sun? Constantia, who had not slept, and who had spent a miserable, tear-stain- ed night walking two and fro, and stealing every now and then to the doorway to see how it was with her, now approached timidly. and kneeling beside her, laid a nervous hand upon her knee. Lady \‘arelv turned and looked at her with melancholy eyes. Constantia had expected an outburst, had indeed dreaded a command that would have sent her forth again, but Lady Varley’s glance was calm as de- spair could make it. and her eyes, dry and fearless. regarded the girl with- out displeasure. “It is you, Connie," she said indifâ€" ferently. Then her eyes wandered back again to the tiny corpse. A quiver ran through her that shook all her slender frame. _ “They have told you?" she said. digs, it is true. She is deadâ€" quite ea As she. was speaking, Lord Varley sp- pea'redlin the doorway, and stood there heSitating. Scenes were abhorrent to him. He had. of course, been told of the_child's death almost immediately on‘its occurrence but had shrunk from going then to his wife, knowing well that he was the last one in the world who could give her comfort of any sort. Now, at last, shame, fear of what the world would say. drove him to her preâ€" sence; but though her large, wild eyes wandered to where he stood, she took no notice of. himâ€"indeed, hardly appear- ed. to see him. She bent her head, and laid her lips upon the little cold, \Van cheek. "‘Dead. dead l" she said again co v11!- 51‘7615’. turning to Constantia. rent heaven! what a face they gazed upon! . . She forget them after a moment 01‘ two. and went back to her forlorn watching of her baby. There was some- thing greedy in her expression. The tiny warren hand was lying Within hers. as she gazed, she smoothed it soft- ly, lovmgly, oh. how tenderly! as though her very soul was wrapde in contemplation of its fairness. “ as there ever such a little hand!" she said. “\Vhere is its counter art?" She sighed heavily. Varley, a ter a hasty word or two to the dootor. W110 received them coldly, beat a hasty re- trflat: but his wife seemed unaware of his coming or going. In truth, she knew only, saw only the dead form of the child who had been her all in all. ~Constantia crept close to her, and em Circled her with her arms. She was fril htened. Io not look like that." she entreat- ed. In a. low tone. "Try to think cfâ€"" she hesitatedâ€""of Heaven," she would have said, but the words died on her lips. Lady Varley pressed her arm. Is that your advice 2" she said, with a strange smileâ€"“to think! To think!” She raised her right hand to her head. and pushed back the hair from her forehead. "1 ou fear I shall give wav." she went on, presently, “Do not. The worst has come. For the future no pain can touch me. The worst is mine, my Portion!" She bent over the bed with that awful hunger in her eyes that had already unnerved Constantia. But her manner was smgularly calm. " How pretty she looks l" she said. “Have you noticed! My darling. my baby! Dear Lord. what have I done to Thee? \Vhat have I done- i" There was no violence in her tone: the question was breathed soft and low, to the Great Giver andâ€"the Great Tak- er of all. If there was reproach in it. it was gently uttered. Her voice was subdued, as though she feared to dis- turb the deathless sleep of the infant. Constantia, who was sobbing silently, still knell beside her; but after a little while Lady Varley seemed to forget that she w'as there. She sat motionless, except that once or =twice she stooped to caress the dead child, or murmur over it some loving word. The doctor, who was growing serious- ly uneasy as he noted her manner, at last made a step forward"and signed to Constantia to rise. As she did so, Lady Varley rose too, and turning, called aloud to the nurse in a sharp, imperious tone. . "It grows late,” she cried. “\Vhere is baby‘s bath? Surely it is past the hour! lionâ€"youâ€"" Dr. Moore went quickly up to her. As he _caugh_t her hands she looked vaâ€" guely into his face, then suddenly flung her arms above her head, and fell sense- less to the ground. CHAPTER XXXI. For many days she lay in a. sort of stupor, dense enough to prevent her fully realizing the extent of her loss. This seemed to those attached to her a rather merciful happening than other- wise. It spared her at least the last poignant deiailsâ€"the-laying in the cof- in. the burial, and other mournful rites. Constantia herself placed the little body in its last bed, and bade it fare- well with many tears. Such a wan, frail little creature as it looked, lyinr shrouded in its gravcvclothes, with a! that the weeping nurse had placed with- in the tiny coffin, and that were scarce- ly as waxen as the small. tired baby they encircled. it was such a moui'nl’u! sight, that bit of a coffin and its inmate, (liatlliey were all silenlly grateful that the mo- tlier was spared the sight. were shed over it before the cruel lid hid the liltle one from sight, and for a long time afterward Norah, who loved it and had often been allowed to nurse it, was incoiisulable. The day after the child had been laid within the grave, Lady Varley awuke to consciousness once. more, and lay )ronc and passive on her pillows, but in ull possession of her senses. Yet she made no mention of the dead baby. There was something in. her faceâ€" a stiaiige. new, listless expreSsionâ€"lhut Convinced them more than words could do that she remembered all that had passedâ€"Lhal she understood how the priceless treasure that had been lent to her for so short a time. and to which she had clung with such a desperate forever! \V'iio shall. say what she saw in the poor little thing to raise such a frenzy of devotion in her breast? It was the weath of ivaygen blossoms round it , Many tears ‘ longing, had been taken away from her ‘ sickly, weakly, barely alive; yet because i she was its mother she loved it. and cared for it, and would in truth have gladly laid down her own sad life for it. it. had been snatched from her out- stretched arms. and all her heart lay bleeding; but if she felt grief, she made no sign. Some of those around her at this time felt some disappoint- ment at. her Seeming indifference; but Constantia, who in a vague fashion un- dcrstood her. was a little frighiened. She. was so still. if she. would speak. or show concern about anything; but she was so Wonderfully still. It was the most glorious summer weather, and the. world outside the Sli‘kâ€" room was great with life‘ pcrlected. The morning hurl arisen with a glory unequaled, and the world at nature was up and about, and quick Willi a sense of joy ihal. grew With every hour. The sunbeams fought. tilk‘ll‘ way val- iantly into Lady Varley’s chamber through the folds of the thick cui‘la'ins with u. persistciicy that defied denial, and flung themselves broadcast. upon the. couch on which she lay there in a silcnt mood that threatened to last forâ€" ever. The. windows were Wide open, but she would not have the curtains drawn. refusing, with a Wild petulance that sat strangely on her, tormerge from the gloom of the sellâ€"imposed twilight Ll) which she now seemed to cling. Perhaps it had . something to do with that past. terrible hour in which she had first learned that her set-rel fear had become a, mournful reality. _ She had expressed a wish toâ€"day that no one was to be admnbed; but Just. now. hearing Constantia‘s VOice upon the corridor outside, asking how she had passed the night. she suddenly lifted her head, and desired themaid in at- Lendance to admit her ViSitor. Constantia, looking pale and troubl- ed. came in slowly. and kneeling by her side, pressed her lips to her cheek. She had not seen her for some days, and was, in a degree, unnerved by the hagâ€" gard glance that settled upon hers. Lad Varley put out her hand. and pushe back the girl's hair from her brow. “You are faithful, Connie," she said. "I 'have not -Wearied you to death?" Then her expression changed. andshe grew ghastly. "Death! death!” she said. in an awe-struck tone. "No; i am not. wearied," said Con- stantia, earnestly. though her heart sunk within her. Would such grief as this ever know assuagemenl‘! "I came to know if you"â€"â€"she hesitated: and then went on boldlyâ€""if you would let me drive you out to-day somewhereâ€" anywhere." Lady Varley shrunk from her. "Oh. no; im ossible!" she said. And then: “If I ta ked forever I could not explain: but I think I have been badly treated. \Vhat had I doneâ€"or sheâ€"" She stopped abruptly.’ "Oh, my poor baby!" she cried, pressmg her hands to her eyes in a distracted fashâ€" ion. She recovered herself. however, in a moment, and was once more calm» and reserved as usual. “You must not mind me." she said, with a wan smile. "I have thought it all out, and why should 1 bore any one with my grief â€"a grief that is without remedy? If you will try to understandâ€"toâ€"" "But I will not," cried Constantia. sinking on her knees beside her and bursting into tears. "Why should you be. silent, and. to meâ€"to me Who oved her?" She threw her arms round Yolande and drew her toward her. This sun- ple action, full of honest grief and af- fection, as it was, did more for Lady Varley than all the doctor's stuffs. She accepted the girl‘s embrace, and clung to her for awhile silently. and then at last the blessed rain of tea-r3 came. and bedewed her heart, and sofâ€" tened it. and soothed it in a measura- Any affection she had had for (Jon stantia before, grew now into a fuller life,_ that never afterward knew any dimmution in its strength. But to her alone_ she relaxed; with her only she permitted herself the luxury of givmg way to a grief that every day seem- ed to make more intolerable. Her arms were empty; there was nothing to fill them. A faithless husband, a little graveâ€"truly her hearth was left un- to her desolate! So far as the outer world went, she seemed cold, uninteresting. Th05e who hastened to assure her of their 53'111‘ PathY. went home again to tell each other on their next meeting. that afâ€" ter all. delicate sentiments had been thrown away upon her, and that eviâ€" dentlysne did not feel Lhe death of the child nearly so much as they had been led to believe. Ali! if they had lost their little ones, how differently they would have felt; how they would haye shown, by tears and sighs. L110 grief that was consuming ihem! Lady Killeens was specially hard on her. _ She had called and had been re- ocived by Y'alande, and had advanced toward her with uplifted brows and hands eloquently outstretched. "Ah! this has indeed been a terri- ble grief!" she said. in tones carefully tremulous. Lady Varley paused. Her eyes were 911 lbs ground, her face seemed frozen into lhu purest marble. ‘ers, it was a. great grief." said. ‘ . Tier tone was calm. How could her visitor guess the effort the very ulter- she ance of the words cost her! How know ‘ that the hesitation was born of awild struggle to conquer tearsâ€"that the downcast lids concealed wells of grief unspeakable? Lady Killeens was disappointed! \Vas she as cold was they had all declared her? Had she been foolish in believ- ing her warmer-hearted than most, with a terrible capacity for suffering? She went straight from Aragliii to pay Visit to Mrs. Diindas, and to her re- countedllie unsatisfactory little scene throuin which she had just gone. She was a garrulous old lady, who would be talking. and she described the affair very minutely. “She was a positive icicle," she said at last, looking to pretty Mrs. Dun- das for sympathy. But Donna's sym- palhy was a broken reed on which to lean. Just now she smiled. Lady Killccn's density amused her. She, Donâ€" na, had in a moment grasped the touch of tragedy in the forlorn little story. She. of all others, was able to read be- tween the lines. Strange anomaly! The Woman totally without feeling. was the one)th understood best the woman. of feeling most acute! "icicles are deceptive,” she said, with her brilliant smile. “Even as you look at. them they melt away into ‘vater. Believe me. had you staycd long enough, Lady Varley would have disâ€" solve! into water too. She lowered pleasantly. alwent, and grew into hours. and twi- her eyes because they were full of liys- ‘ tcrical moisture they call tears. She seemed to you cold, because she dread- ed betraying publicly a feeling that. if once roused. she knew would be dif- ficull to quell. Such people. of such intense emotions. are naturally a bore. . and one perforce pities them, but one , despises them too. Still. I think you should be grateful to her that she spared you a scene." She smiled again, and stifled a faln! yawn behind her fan. \Vhy be in- lcnse, why be anything. with the thermometer at ninety? Lady Killeens who thought the "Scene" hinted at would have been more decent than \olande’s studied coldness. and who had comc fully prcparcil for it. and was therefore annoycd and disgusted, had litllc_t'o say in answer to Mrs. Dundas's sncermg littlc speech, and [)l‘l’St’lllly took her departure. Bill. She spoke of Yolandc’s "unnatural calmness." :isslic called it, wherever she went, and afler awhile _mnst. people believed in ilâ€"save two. Even Lord Varley was in a cer- tain degree dcceived. Once she resumâ€" ed hcr old duties, and sat at the head of the table. and received her guests. there was little in her manner. which had always been grave and gentle, to speak of any inward, torturing regret. Hcr composure never forsook hcr. Hf‘r smile. if rarer, was always kind; and thcre was no reason why he should re- gard. her as cherishing a grief that was inconsolable. He knew nothing of the long hours spent alone in the de- snrted nurSery. where shc knelt beside the empty little cot, and prayed for patience and a speedy finish to her solitary life. and conjured up the dead past. in which her (lead darling’s pale face smiled at her againâ€"where the tiny arms were extended to her, where the pressure of delicate baby hands fell upon her breast. her cheek. She was wasted and worn with grief, but she kal’ her eyes dry before the world. lest lhat careless thing should enter in- to and disturb the sacredness of her despair. . She set before her davenport now. answering two or three letters of kindâ€" lv innuirv from some acquaintances in the North. She was clad in deep mourning, and the somber hue of her gown seemed to increase the pallor of her face. As she answered the notes of condolence, her baby's face seemed to rise before her, and great tears gath- crcd in her eves and rolled down hcr checks. At this moment Varley. whis- tling gavly a light operatic air speâ€" cially affected by Mrs. Dundas. stroll- ed into the room by an open window. He had not expected to see, her here. and he started visibly. Of late he was a littlc uncomfortable in the presence of his wife, and he w0uld now have retired as he came, but for the fact that she had seen him, and that it was impossible for him to take no notice of her sorrow. He came toward her in a somewhat awkward fashion. and stood beside her chair. She made avain effort. to conceal her face, and shrunk from him instinctively. "I'm sorry to see you like this,” he said. with an affectation of friendlincss. "I had hoped you had got over it. Poor little beggar: you know she was bound to go sooner or later." Thc careless toneâ€"meant. perhaps. to be kii Ilvâ€"the untender allusion to her lost darlin , the very uneasiness of his manner. al maddnned her. Her subâ€" dued anguish, refusing longer to be controlled. sprung into life once more. and passion. terrible in its intensity. took possession of her. It shook her as a storm might shake a fragile flower. She rose abruptly. and push- ing back her chair, looked at him with a face that was death-like in its pallor. "It sits lightly on you!" she. said, in a voice so low as to be almost inaudi- ble. "Are. you dead, then. to all feel- ingâ€"honor, affection. self-respect? Has that woman killed all? Great Heaven! what is to be the end of this? And to speak of herâ€"her, my beloved, my angelLâ€"tn speak of her so!” She had grown incoherent in her veâ€" hement reproach. Varley made a ges« ture as if to speak. but she would not listen to him. She clasped her hands tightly as though to compel herself to some self-restraint, and tried to speak. but could not. "You are so excitable." he said at last: "if you would but listenâ€"if one might be allowed to exclainâ€"" "\Vhat?” she demanded. “your ina- l~ility to feel sorrow?" Then all at once her scorn died from her. and the tears ran down her wan cheeks. "Are you her father. that you can speak thus?" she cried: “is there no grief in youâ€"no natural. lVas not her sweet body your own flesh and blood. that you can thus coldly comment on her death? Oli! where is love or pity? 0h! mv darlingâ€"my little onelâ€"mv child!" It all seemed to culminate in that last wordâ€"her child. She raised her hands suddenly to her face as if to shut out from him any visible demonstraâ€" tion of her pain, and. with a bitter cry, she dropped, as a. stone might, into her chair; her arms fell prone upon the desk, and her head found shelter on them. . Varley shrugged his shoulders. These impossible women, with their highly wrought nerves, wereâ€"erâ€"the very deuce! He crept cautiously from the room, fearin only that she might re- cover herself sufficiently to address him again before he had made good his retreat. , But she had already forgotten him; he had ceased, indeed, for a long tune to be anything in her life save a. vague shadow of coming disgrace or a sug- gestion of years wasted. After awhile she sighed heavily and raised her head. and lay back languid- ly in her chair. with a sense of physi- cal weariness that touched her not un- The minutes came and light was already stealing over the land, when the door was again opened. and a servant announced: "Mr. O‘Grady." (To be continued.) __â€".’ ll villi . WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE FOUR CORNERS OF THE GLOBE. Old and New World Events of Interest Chron- lcled Brieflyâ€"Interesting Happenlngs 0! Recent Date. The British Government owns nearly two-thirds of the navies of the worldâ€" 9,984,280 tons. The largest bell in Japanâ€"that in the temple of Kiotoâ€"is twenty-four feet high and sixteen feet in diameter across the rim. The English “'esleyan returns, just published, reveal that during the past year there has been adecreased mem- bership of 2.275. English coal mines produced 188,- 277.52?) tons Of coal in 1894. exceedimz appeared recently the highest previous record. that of 1801, by nearly 3,000,000 l0u<. Our globe now contains 1.470.710.000 inhabitants according In ilii- l:ll\'5l’. statistics. More lhziii half of [his num- ber is claimed in Asia alone. Eggs are now iiiipni‘twl iiilo Ul‘Wll'. llrituin from Russia. shelled, lie-Allin up. and preserved, lll lici‘iiicliczall.” sczil'ul tins, from which they are, <l:.i\\ ii uff through a top. At Dclplii, a beautiful llrfllll!‘ sla- lllv‘llP ‘of :‘llwllo. eight inches high. has bccn discovered, zirousiiitr the hope that, more valuable votive ofieriiigs may be found at the same place. Habibullu and Nasiirilla Khaiis. the lwo oldest sons of the Amver of Afghan- istan, have been made Knights Grand. Cross of the order of Si. Michael and St. George by Queen Victoria. The Duke of Saxeâ€"Meiningen was robbed of $13 by bandits in Italy, it was all the money he carried with him, but he reflects with satisfaction that be preserved his incognito. Lady Londonderry has had a lugger built at Southampton of cedar and ma- li‘ogany, 26 feet on the water line. with silver-plated aluminium fittings. and sill; sails. It is to be called the Main- ca .8. The greatest corporation on earth is the London and Northwestern Railway Company of England. It has a capital of $595,000,000 and a revenue of $0,â€" 300 an hour. 2,300 engines and employs 60,000 men. The oldest armchair in the world is the. throne once used by Queen Hatfu. who flourished in Egypt 1600 B.C. It: is made of ebony, beautifully carved. rind is so hardened with age as to ap- pear to be made of black marble. \Vestminster Hall has been closed to the public, except when under surveil- lance since the dynamite explosions 11 years ago. The, St. James' Gazette sug- gests that it is time to take away the policemen and let visitors enter the hall freely. The latest musical prodigy, now playing in Vienna, is a little Polish! girl, aged nine, named Paula Szalit. It is said of her that she can not only play works by all the great masters. but is capable of improwsing to a con- siderable extent. A suicide in Lyons, France, arranged xi rude guillotine for himself. A sharp hatchet was weighed with a sledge- hammer, just ol/er the block. The in- ventor placed his head on the blook, pulled a string, down came the hatchet and oft came the man's head. A new warehouse in Paris has been built with glass floors. The initial cost is considerably over that of the ordin- ary floor, but, in View of the fact that toughened glass is so much longer lived than wood. the experiment is likely to prove cheaper in the long run. A Monthyon prize has been awards ed by the French Academy to Capt. Danrit. author of “La Guerre de Deâ€" main," 8. work which when it first ap- peared caused its author to be put un- der arrest for thirty days. as his su- perior officers did not like the book. of the. seventy thousand breweries in the world. thirty thousand are in Ger- many, Great Britain has eighteen thou- sand and the United States five thou- sand. Each country uses nearly all its own product, except Germany, which manufactures more than it censumes. Durand. this man who undertook to hang from the gallows for thirteen days in a Paris cafe. has completed his per- formance. He was let down for thirty seven hours in all while it lasted, but slept while hanging. He now proposes to allow himself to be buried for a long period. The following curious advertisement in the London Daily Chronicle: "Lost, a Bulwarkâ€"Not long ago it was maintained by its support- ers that the Church of England was the bulwark of Protestantism. Any in- tormation concerning the said bulwark will be welcomed. by a greatful com- munity." Visitors to Holland this June may see at Utrecht a series of processmns in mediaevai costumes. modelled. on the famous tournament given at Vien- na in 1560 by Maxmilian II. The festi- val will. last a Week, and is in honor of the 260th anniversary of the foun- dation of the university, which was founded in the same year as Harvard College. ' A duel with. knives was fought in the court yard of the Louvre_ one evening recently between two ticket speculators, who quarrelled at the en- trance to the Theatre Francaise. This s t is one of the most frequented in thg city, being one of the main avenues for omnibuses and foot passengers from the right to the left bank of the Seine. _ . A delightful official dinner is that given b the Mistress of the Robes on the needs birthday. All the Min- isters wives are invited, and as their husbands cannot be present on account of their giving official dinners to men themselves, the men for the dinners are selected from the brightest and~ most promising of the younger politiCians, An old scandal in the English royal family is recalled by the sale of the old French furniture belonging to.the Duke of Sussex and kept in Lensing- ton palace since the death of his Widow, the Duchess of lnverness. The Duke, who was one of George lII.'s worthless sons, married Lady Augusta Murray, a marriage annulled as being Without his father's consent, and later married Lady Cecilia Underwood, whom Queen Victoria created Duchess of Inverness. Alma Tadema, the artist, has the most beautiful home in England. The wall of the drawing room is paneled with tall. slim pictures. each of them by a different iaiiiterâ€"Leighton. Boughton. Sargent, Hustler. and a score of other artist friends eac con- tributing lo this remarkable chora- tion. Another inleresting featureis the oak and ivory piano, on the inside lid of which are inscribed the autographs of the most celebrated singers and musicians in the world. The sum of £20,000 is needed for the clearance and restoration of the Crypt of Canterbury cathedral, Englandâ€"t a repair of the Cloisters, the repair, sus- tentation and rectoralion of the chapâ€" ter house. and the restoration of the ancient chapel of St. Andrew, which is now unsightly from neglect and dis- figurement. Dean Ferrar appeals to the English speaking Christians throughout the world, including Am- ericnns, for contributions for a restoraâ€" tion fund. as the cathedral authorities have no funds available for the pur- pose. LIGHT ON THE SUBJECT. How is it that \Vatlcy has so many new suits? He gets a small salary. - 0h. he is an electrician and his clothes Lire, fill charted.