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filnco Nellie Went Away. the homestead ain't cz bright an' cheerful es tt used to bo, ttiOltKVW ulu't ktowIu' Lalf bo green upon the , tniiplo tree; 111- brook don't worn tcr ripple like It used ter, tlowu tho lit 11 'The bobolinks appear ter Lev a somo'at sad- lor trill; Hie wavhi corn hez lost Its gold, the sunshine ain't so brlu-lit, The day Is Kro win' shorter Jo6t tor mako a longer ulght; there Is KMnetlilu' jrnawln' at my heart I frness lies eonio ter stay; The world ain't neon the sauie to me since Nellie went away. old piano oyer there I gave her when a bri do lt ain't boon rlayod upon but ouce since she took rick an' died; An' then n neighbor's (rlrl came In an' struck nn OIil liluck Joe" An "V hen tho Kwallows Homeward Fly," an somehow, don't you know. It aliiios' nmdu me cruzy wild with anguish an' dlspalr I saw her nit tin at the keys, but knew she wasn't tlero. An' that Is why I never want tor hear tho old thin play Tho nmslo uon't sound natural since Ncllio wout away. . Tho jmrson tolls mo every man lies got ter hev his woo 111 argument Is good, perhaps, for he had . ortor know But thou It's hard for every one tcr alters see the rltr lit In turnlii' pleasure Into pain an' sunshine Into uhrlit: I guess It's all Included In tho Milker's hidden plan It takes a heap o' grief an' woo tor temper up a man. I sympathize with any fellow when I hoar him say Tho world don't seem the samo ter hlia Blnco some one went away. Tho Scripture says that In his own sweet way. If we but wuit. The Lord'll take our burdens an' set crooked matters straight; Ad' (he-re's a hofw that all tho grief an aching lieu it. can hold TVRl bo offset by happiness a hundred million. fold When we hev reached the end o' llfo's event ful voyVo at hist, An'allour aiu au' misery Is burled la the pHKt, An so I'm lookln' for'ard to the dawnln' of a day When riiebbo It won't seem so long since Ncllio went away. Harry 8. Chester. IIEIl LAST ROMANCE. "You nro too romantic." Mrs. Merriweather turned her faco upon her. "What did you say, Amina?" "I said you were too romantic," rc- f tented Aniiua, with sullen delibcra lon. Amina was tho daughter of a de funct Italian tiddler a wild-eyed, erratic dreamer, who had drifted to these shores and for a few years kept the red-eyed hunger-wolf from the door by playing iu the orchestra of tho opera. There was nothing Amina did not owe to Mrs. Merriweather. It was tho rich widow who had gathered her In and given her a home. Mrs. Merriweather stood beforo her ind in tho abrupt arresting of her movements all tho tinkling bangles on her wrists gavo tongue. Mrs. (Jerriweather was very fond of bangles Mid pendants and tinkling cymbals. She looked very stately iu her dignified pose, and scarcely more than thirty five "It seems to me," she enunciated, (villi disarming gentleness, "that I hardly merit abuse at your bauds, Amino." Amina saw through her protectress as though she had been glass, lint tvhat had that to do with it? She felt convicted of ingratitude. She suddenly Hung herself out of her chair and tlowu on the lloor at Mrs. Merriweather's knee. "Oh. don't mind what I say! I'm a ivretchl You've been a angel to me and I'm unworthy as any viper!" Mrs. Merriweather smiled benignly, tueh scenes were not new. . Upon tho whole, it was not unpleasant to have this Imlf-iudignant, half-protected austerity close to one. It made one teel young almost girlish! And tho alternations of passionate, adoring lealty were pleasant also. They gave Color to daily life. Mrs. Merriweather's smilo curved in to a youthful archness. "You love mo so much and yet you don't seeiu to think that others could love me!" Amina was on her feet again, serious ind almost sullen as before. "Mr. Fallatinc is young. I don't think he is more than thirty," she said. This indeed, was venturing much! Mrs. Merriweather drew herself up again, and this timo Micro was no doubt about the steely point in her eyes. "Mr. Pallantino is poor and a gen tlcmau. That means that he has tastes which lie-cannot satisfy. Togo about giving readings gifted and fastidious as ho is canuot bo wholly agreeable" "I should think it might bo more agreeable than being patronized by lino ladies," supplemented Amina. "Decidedly, "said Mrs. Merriweather. weeping from the room, "you forget yourself to-day." Amina sat down by the window with lier hands in her lap. A wretcliP Of course she was a wretch! Why had the uot been left to starve by the tody of her dead father Iu that bare room long ago? That evening Egbert Fallatinc, read ing "Ulf iu Ireland" Mrs. at Van Hook er1 reception, was conscious of Mrs. Merriweather's fascinated eyes hang lug on his face. Ono hour later, when the recitations were over and some music to which people had listened with a patient resignation had been performed, he found himself in tho midst of the push for tho supper-room close to the widow' perfumed pink brocade and elaborate blonde head and opulent white shoulders and throat rising gen erously like a full-blown liot-houso flower out of her low corsage and plentifully bedewed with diamonds. lie offered his arm. and Mrs. Merrl - weather rustled along beside him, showing all her wholesome white teeth sod chattering graciously. I am desperately hungry," she de clared, "and when you have attended to me in that way you will have to at tend to me in another way also. The affair to-night has given me au idea." FaIIatino wheeled rather wearily. When he had returned with some saliid and fricasseed oysters and croquettes and sandwiches on a plate aud stood before the widow holding her cham pagne glass, she proceeded: "I shall have some tableaux at my house. And they shall be described, as It were, br recitations You sh do the recitations and yon will give mo tho benelit of your ideas ns to how such thiugs as you think could be lit tingly illustrated by tableaux vivants. There! Will not that bo a new idea? I want something that has . not beeu done before. We must begin prepara tions at once." When they got back to tho drawing rooms a move was being in ado by tho votingcr people to break into dancing. Pallalino, having iu somo way bc como free again, made his way to where Amina sat alone against the wall. 'Aren't you going to dance?" he said, looking at her as he dropped into a seat beside her. She wore a gown of dark red crepe, almost high iu the neck, ami her small olive-tinted hoad, with a knot of waving black hair, looked like cameo. Mrs. Merriweather, who had regained her good-humor long beforo the evening, had urged Amina to wear something a little more youthful. "You look so prim," had said the widow, gazing, not without com placency, at the Venetian vision of robust "charms thrown back by the mirror, ns her maid gave a deft touch here and there to the bodice of tho pink brocade. "I don't caro about dancing," wa Am iua's reply to Pallatinu's remark. "I don't care" for this sort of thing, anyway. Only Mrs. Merriweather is good enough to bring me. She is al ways good. If I were better nivsolf, I suppose I should enjoy it more.'' "Why don't you enjoy it?" Pal la tine's eyes haa grown as serious as her own. lie had abruptly awakened to tho fact of how profoundly bored ho had beeu all the evening. Ho had not before felt so rested ami comfortable as sitting by the side of this solemn little girl who took so detcrmincdlytho air of a dependent. 'Because I was not mado for it, 1 suppose." "Well," Pallatine's voioo sank un consciously, "perhaps I was uot.either." "But your family used to be very gay and rich and fashionable, used it not? That makes a difference. You would naturally foci willing to givo it all up now. It's ouly fair to take that into account." Pallatine brought his fine eyes around upon her. What an extraordinary little girl! What could sho mean? Mr. Pallatine was coming into the house constantly now to direct the ar rangements for Mrs. Merriweather's great entertainment for as Mrs. Merriweather said what, was there with his astouishing artistic taste that he could net do? aud Mrs. Merriweather had never been mort gorgeom at nil seasons in her dress, had never had her complexion put on more delicately, more carefully and more with the illusion of nature. Next to her Amina crawled about tho rooms and halls like a little brown mouse. "I don't see :why you can't nt least be Elaine to. my (Jniuevro." Mrs. Merriweather - said coniulainingly to tho girl. "Then if we could only have had Mr. Pallatine for Lauricclot it would have been perfect! Ho would make stieh a haudsouio Launeelot! He is so dark and knightly-looking!" Mrs. Merriweather's blue eyes were soft. She gave a little sigh. "But, of course, as he is to read that portion of the poem when tho curtain rises to shw a tableau of tho barge ami the courtiers of Arthur assembled, ho can't bo Launeelot too. But I rejeat that you might bo Elaine, Amina." "Do I look like the Lily Maid of AscolatP" cried Amina, Hashing sud denly her berry-brown face with a bitter gleam in tho eyes on her pro tectress. "A wig and hlnnn de theatre would mako you do," said Mrs. Merriweather. But'aftcr all Amina held good and another Elaine was chosen. Mrs. Merriweather would have liked well enough to bo tho Lily Maid herself. But she could not be that and the beautiful, guilty Queen too. And Guinevere, of tho two roles, was iho stronger attraction. When tho great night came Mrs. Merriweather's magniliccnt drawing room was crowded to suffocation. "Absurd to wear a decent gown in such a crowd as this!" buzzed oue lady to another. "But then, my dear, this is an es pecial occasion! A 6ort of public proclamation of coming events eh?" Tho first lady tittered behind her fan. "Actually it would seem so! You notice tTiat tho young man has a very prominent place in the entire affair! (rood Heavens! how old do you think Mrs. Merriweather really is?" "To bo charitable forty-live." "Oh. my dear! Say forty-eight! Well, he is a handsouio fellow. And romance was always her weakuess." On the improvised platform, mean while behiud the lowered curtain, a wild scene was enacting. A rumble of crazy conversation arose from the ladies1 dressing-room, like the tumult of the sea when all its waves murmur together. "How resolutely you have kept out of this whole thing. M said Egbert Pallatine abruptly to Amlua. Ho found himself, for the moment, standing alone with her both of them isolated in tho vor tex of the confusion. "No. But I could do more by help ing than by being in tho tableaux my self," sho "said, coldly, and . hastened away with her hands full of pins and draperies. A moment later 6ho re turned to find tho young man standing motionless in the same place. "Mrs. Merriweather is dressed for the first tableau and wishes you to see whether there are any suggestions to make." She spoke without looking at him, and tho next instant she was bending to adjust a fold in tho widow's costume. The latter stood beforo tlm young man and challenged him to admiration with every inch of her resplendent presence. She was a gleam of jewels aud priceless stuffs aud red lips. She was undeniably handsome Sho looked fifteen years younger than her age, aud the'artist m Pallatine did homage to tho coisur.imate cleverness of the whole production. "Perfect." he said, bowing low. The Elaine" tableau came first. This was really a regal Guinevere. A flutter rose iu Mr. Merriweather's throat. The exoitenvent half carried her a littlo out of herself. "Had you been Launeelot," she mur mured, with softened eyes, "it might have beeu perfect, indeed!'' .And alio held out her hand toward him. The curtain went up in a moment and Pallatine began his roudiig in a whirl. Ho scarcely hoard hi own words. When the curtain had gone down again amid a burst of applause, hiding tho reader and the illustrative tableau alike from view, ho withdrew into a corner and tried, with all the re newed co u fusion arouud him, to collect Ids thoughts. Great heaven! He did not wish to bo a coxcomb, but what was this? Could it bo! Was this whero he had been drifting, with his fequcnt visits to this house, his tolerance of the great lady's patronage? It seemed impossi ble, and yet Merciful powers! Ho remembered Mrs. Mcrriweathrr's look, her extended hand aud a chill ran down his spine. Had tho littlo Italian girl seen them? She had moved away as soon as ho ap proached Mrs. Merriweather. And yet, how could he tell? His cheek tingled. If sho had surmised anything of this sort it would account for tho coldness, the contempt almost, with which sho had seemed to treat him in these weeks he had been coming here. A poverty-stricken reader ingratiating himself into the favors of au elderly widow of wealth and social standing with visions of a matrimonial denoue ment that was how ho must have ap peared to her. Faugh! The thought sickened him. He went through the rest of the pro gramme automatically. He was seized with a wild desire to get aw a". And yet his eye watched for Amina con stantly. Just beforo tho last tableau he caught 6ight of her standing on a chair and nailing up some bit of drapery for tho scenery. He found himself tho next instant beside her and looking up, with a sort of desperation, into her pale faco. Her lips were tightly set. Some hidden emotion seemed to communicate itself from him to her, from her to him. He longed to explain to her His voice came thickly, and all he found to say was: "I'm afraid the chair is not steady. You will fall." ' "Oh, no," sho said iu turn. But was it his close preseuco that made her Angers less sure? One end of the heavy drapery slipped from her grasp and, as she made a movement to re cover it, tho chair tipped and her light weight slid downward into his arms. It was a tremcudous revelation to both of them. Their faces wero white and their ej'es glowed. "Let mo go," whispered Amina, fighting for her self-control. "I love you," Egbert kept repeating, "I love you very much, Amina. You must believe me. That is why I have been coming hero though I did not know it myself." It had beeu tho affair of a motuynt. A high cardboard wiug had screened them from view. But in tho iuterstico of it Mrs. Merriweather had suddenly appeared. The three stood looking n't each other; then a youth, wild with haste and excitemeut under his paint and wig, rushed frantieaily toward them anil, dragging the fallen drapery out of sight, told them tho curtaiu was about to rise. m Mrs. Merriweather's boudoir was darkened and an odor of cologne and vtnaigre de toilette pervaded it. She her self lay on tho loungo in a deshabille of the uignest art ti coign ami with ono hand, sparkling with rings, veiling her eyes. A light tap at the door was followed by the entrance of Amina. She had, at length, been sent for and she ap peared, like a culprit, with downcast syes. It was a dramatic moment, and Mrs. Merriweather would not have been Mrs. Merriweather had she uot felt tho thrill of the occasion. "So," sho began, "you have deceived me both of you " But at this Amina unexpectedly rallied. "Deceived you no! I know now that Mr. Pallalino loves me and that I have loved him all along! But there was no deception. I owe you every thing, and if yon say that I must give bi in up I shall do so'nt once and for mer. That I can do. But I cannot aiako him unlove inu or love you in stead if he has not done jo already." Mrs: MeTriwcathcr said not a word; and suddenly Amina threw herself down before tho lounge and kissed the high art desliabillc passionately. "You are tho kindest-hearted creat ure iu all tho world." sho cried, "and jvhen you are anything else yon do f'oursolf injustice! I know you will et us bo happy still! Think "of what you have! You can oven pick up such waifs as I am aud give them tho great est joy in life. But by oursolves wo two h'avo nothing nothing but each other. Oh, be generous to usl You could not help being generous if you tried!" It must be that Amina was , right. For, after all, she and Egbert Palla tine were married not long after. Tho bride's trousseau was as complete ai though she had been an heiress of un told means. Mrs. Merriweather wears black a Seat deal now aud a pensive smile. th become her, and it is impossible that she is conscious of the fact. In anv caso 6he does not appear deeply unhappy. Wind Flowers. A flower has been discovered in South America which is only visible when the wind blows. The shrub be longs to tho cactus family and is about three feet high. Tho stem is covered with dead, 'watery -looking lumps in calm weather; these lumps, however need but light breeze to make them unfold large flowers of a creamy white, which close and appoar dead wheu the wind subsides. lno "Old Witch House," in Salem, Mass., is still standing, just as in tlx davs of Hawthorne, and by a sort ol grim wooing of circumstance, almost opposite it them is. on a door, a sign whjch rcads liko this: "CJairvoyanl "THE DUGUESS." CHAPTER VL Contikced. . ' "i wisn you could cure ypurseir. " "I assure you I can't even laugh com fortably," goes on the inquire, with a sigh; "and that's a great loss to me. 'Tis a thing I'm not accustomed to. I don't in deed; anl if they do give I shaat's bo ablo to hold up my hoad again." "I'll get a good strong bit of housowife's thread and sew the seams on the inside wherever they look strained, and thon you can laugh," said his daughter, giving him an encouraging pat ou his broad back. "If you do, I'm thinkiug you'll sow tho suit," 6ays ho, still melancholy. "There isn't a team hi it that you couldn't burst with a detent sigh." He looks at her as if defying her to deny this, and then, all suddenly, without so much a a second's warning, ho bursts out into an irresistible, peal of laughter. His laugh and Norak's nro just the same musical, hearty, compelling. To hear thera a to join in them, nolens volens. Long and loud ho laughed, Norah keeping him company, without exactly knowing why; but youth, especially Irish youth, is prouo to laughter, and is always thankful for a chanco of giving way to it. "Speak! Speak!" cries she at last. "I ran't laugh forever without a reason for it. It's an unsatisfiu t jry kind of mirth." "I was thinking," mys he, still choking, "that if I did burst thoso clothes what a row there would bo. fu ll an explosion! Just think of his faco an J yours! and your poor old dad at tho head of the tahlo ha! La! ha! with vacancies in his raiment and . Oh, my! oh, my!" Thm tears of mirth aro running down his rheeks as ho pictures to himself the scene that a moment before hvl reduced him to despair. Norah, too, is laughing with all ler he art, when Denis, opening the door, thrusts in his head. "It d:.es ono good to hear you," ho said, "ITay I know w hat it is all about?" "Xo; it isn't good enough," says the Duchess hastily. "It is too ancient; a per fectly thveidbure joko." "Good for you, Duchess!" crie the quire, beginning to explode again. "Faith, tho subject of it is threadbare enough in ail cens kneo ami ancient to a fault." ".Never mind, dad. You have come to toll us scmething," snya Norah, addressing her coa-iu pointedly, as if to turn his atten tion from the squiie, who is hi quite a dan gerous mood, "That letter in your hand " "Is from my mother, asking un when I Intend returning." "Jly dear boy! "Why, you have only just conio!" exclaims the squire, forgetful now of the joke, tho fragility of tho even ing clothe3, everything. "'cverlheless sho s:ys she can't do with out mo. The houo is full of people, and it appears the task of keeping them in a good temper is beyond l.er. Norah, sho also wants to know if you aro coining back with rao." "Back with you? To tho castle? Oh, no? Certainly not!" tays tho Duchess in a tono of hortor. All tho laughter is gone now, giving place to cervous astonishmeuL In voluutarily she steps backwards until sht reaches tho wall behind her, as if desirous of getting as fur from the castle iu question as okmIj1o. No words could be as elo pueut as this movement. "But why!'" asks tho young man re proachfully. "Jly mother is ho anxious to mako your acquaintance that she will take your refusal hardly. As you know, sho cannot well oino to you at present, but if you will go to hr " "I haven't thought of it. I didn't know she wished " "I told your father. You didn't tell her?" looking at the squire, who is now the picture of guilt. "I recollect something about it. I believe you did say that madam would like to see her," says he, temporizing disgracefully, tho fact being that he had remembered, but had deciled from tho first that Norah could never get on without him or he with out Norah. "More than that, I gave you my mother's Invitation. I hope, Norah," regarding her enrnestlj-, "that you will accept it. You will like my mother, I know, and as there aro so many peopl j slaying there at present you won't feel dull." "Oh! That's just it," miserably. "What?" "AU those pople!" growing quite palo. "Nonsansol" laughing. "Not one of them will cat you, had some may amuso you. I am quite sure you will enjoy it." "I shouldn't, indeed. Dad," indignant ly, "why don't you speak? Why don't you say I should be wretched away from you?" "She would. She would Indeed, I assure you," f-aid tho squire, waking to an enthusi astic defense of tho position beciuso of thit indignant g!anco. "I assuro you, my dear Denis, tho would be tho most melancholy creature alive if depi.'ved of my society even for a day!" He says it in such pc rfect good faith and with such an open desire to help her in ter extremity that ho is irresistible. Even Norah gives way lo laughter. "It is true, though," sho says to Denis, a little defiantly. "We have never lieen separated, never. Even for tho thrco years I was at school in France he came over and lived there with me." "Then I wish you would change your mini and come to Vcntry, too," says Denis. "I wihh I could," says tho squire, who indeed would havo desired nothhig better; "but I'm tied by tho hoels just now. You know what a worry the tenants are?" He refrains from mention of tho evening suit and tho utter inability to order a new ono. "Norah, "says her cousin,suddcnly, "come out and let us talk it over." CHAPTER VII. 'Oh, the little more, and bow much it is!" Outside, tho world is so fair, so fresh, m Joyous, that it is scarcely to l e wondered at if Denis trusted it to help him with his pleading. "Who could provo unkind with such a sun gilding such fleecy clouds;' who le obdurate with all nature's richo-t treasures tprrad on o very side of one with such a lavish hand? It rather ups.'ts his tbecry, however, when on glancing downward at hi cousin Le finds her as hard-hearted as over. "Well," she snys with a very voxed laugh, catching his expression, "what did you expect? I havo como out here with you as you se?med to imagine great thing! would come of such a move; but I warn you It wUI not do a bit of good." "I wonder why you have so determin edly sot your face against coming to us," says he, a little offended. "It isn't that," hastily. "Don't you think it for a moment If it were only you and your mother; but tho fact Is," speaking reluctantly an.i coloring warmly, "I I'm afraid!" "Afraid of what?" incredulously. "Of all those strangoi s. When I think Of lie lug alone there amongst so many people unknown to me without dad I fee' oh laying her hand upon her bosom "dreadful I" "But you wouldn't be alone. I shall be there!" 6ays Delaney, the very slightest suspicion of a grievance In his tone. "Why, so you would," says she, slowly, as If suddenly awakening to a hitherto for gotten fact. "I never thought of that; but still you are not dad, you know." This is indisputable. Beyond all doubt sho has taken an unassailable position. Acknowledging this fact, Dolanoy gives up argument. "I won't listen to another objection," crioa he, gayly. "Not one. I insist on car rying you off bodily and introducing you to the lot of them, whether you will or not. I have set my heurt on tho doing of this, and I know you will not have tho heart to thwart me. What! Do you think 1 would readily relinquish the triumph of showing ynu off to them of exhibiting my captive? My very own discovery too !' ' ne is thinking of tho sensation her beauty will create even among tho throng of pretty woirc.i with whom his mother ever delights to surround herself. What one of that gay crowd could dare to ccuuparo with her? Al ready, in his fond fancy, he can see her dancing through tho grand old halls of Vontry, or walking sedately through its gardeirs, tlie sweetest flower among all thoso myriad blossoms. Tho charm of this vision, however, it bo ng a merj mental vagary, being natural ly w thheld from tho Duchess, it so happens that his words fall with a meaning littlo in tended upon hor ears.. Far from seeing any tiling complimentary in thorn, sho socs something fatally the reverse. Could so lovely a thing as her faco bo ever guilty of showing wrath undiguisod, now is the tim-3. "Show me off!" sho repeat?, in a vti.'o that Kitively electrifies tho ill-fated Donis. "Exhibit me! Am I tl oa a South Sea Islandor? Am I to understand that I really dill'er to entirely from the rest of your ac quaintances:''" "As light from darkness," replies he, with promptitude, though considerably puzzled by her tone and expression. "Oh!" says the Duthoss. Great meaning may bo thrown into this apparently harmless monosyllable. Miss Delaney makes it so eloquent that her cousin turns tharply to look at her. What can ba the matter with her? For an instant their eyes meet; time long enough to let him see that t.ars aro standing thickly in hers. "Norahlwhut is it:-" ho exclaims, stop ping short. "Does this visit to ray mother make you leally so unhappy? If I thought so" "It has nothing to do with it, and you know it!" returns she, respectfully. This timo tho tears are very plain to him, as she lifts two indignant eye. to his. Largo and brilliaut they hang upon her lashes, tremb ling to their fall. "But to bo to!d that one is 'different! Of course," with a baleful glance nt him, "I know I am not as thoso others those fashionable friends of yours, who have been everywhere and seen every thing, and heard all there is to hear and I dare say" with tourful contempt "a good deal more! I know I am not liko them, and" pasiemtely "I don't want to be, either. But oni mny b different from people without liking to hear it said. Ono may be absurd and o'd-fathione I without wanting to hear it put into words!" This tarrt':.o speech I poured forth with a startling Cuoncy tht rcJuees Denis to a state bordering cn coma. Recovering him self by on effort, "Norah! is it possible yX could so misjudge me?" ho says, flushing hotly. "My dar or h'm " s:ekin NJilly for a compromise "my deareft gul! can it bo that you don't see what I really meant, whero tho true difference lies? That you nro the liftht the rest of them darkness. Oh! Norah, look at mol Say you believe me!" "I won't! I don't!" keeping l.er gaze studiously averted; ai 1 now tho two large tears detach themselves at last from the lashes and roll slowly, pitifully down her cheeks. "I'm sum you uie saying all that just to please and comfort me." A little sob breaks from her. It is by a mighty offort alone t'.iat De laney controls the eager longing that now almost overpowers him to catch h3r in his arms and press that sad, angry lit'Jo facd against his own. Was ever thing createe fairer than this child? Oh that he were free to wco perchance to win her? Oh that ho had never scon hor! and yet not tunt! Ho could not wish that. With what a strange suddenness tho had fi lien into his life (and alas! how much too late), killing for him tho serenity in which ho had be lieved ho should livj and die. not knowing then tho greatest good of all nor having tasted of love's draught that bitter sweet! Now, all that is over; serenity is dead, and peaco has flown; and here a galling chain hind's him secure, and there stands love, un crowned, waiting, it might havo been, fo.' Lim. A lovo so swet, an eager, gracious thing; careless as yet, with songi on hor lips and laughter in heroyes, and no knowl edge (as it poems to him) of the cruel fret and fever of th? paiu that men call passion. All this, or a vague senso of it, runs through him as he stands thero looking on Ser tears, but wl ea he speaks his voice, though low, is caim. "Not I," Iw tny-9. "I'll swear it to you if you will, though my word is as good as my bond. Why, you silly baby, do you think if I did entertain such a heiesy that 1 should havo had tho pluck to say It?" This appears to te an excellent bit cl reasoning and very convincing. Tho Duch ess smiles, and earth grows bright aga.n. fllP 'A "RKAIXY, DO TCC Tlit.NK ME mF.TTV?" She even draws a littlo nearer to him, as i) alKiut to speak, and then, as if ovorcomabj a littlo access of shyness, stops short, and taking hell of ono of the buttons of hit coat between a slender finger and thumt twists it round and round again without any apparent reos n. "Well" questioned Denis, stilling a sigh. "It is very liar! for any one, unloss at anchorite, to have tho chosen of his . heart so very close to hiu? an 1 feel that ho nvistn'l encourage her to come closer still. Well? "Denis, tell ma this," with the sweeter blush Imaginable. "Really, now mind honestly, do you think me pretty?" "It is too poor a word I" says the miser able Denis, so far forgetting the stern roloj allotted to him as to take the little thin; fingers from the long-suffering button anil1' press them to his lips. "If you will say; 'lovely' I can answer you." j "Oh, now!" with a littlo pleasod laugh,! , "that is going too far. They tell me iny mother was beautiful, but that . I do japfr re8.mb!o her much; that I'm hko dad's peo ple. Like," thoughtfully, "your people. ' You, perhaps? How strango that would bo! Am I like you?" "I daro say I have frequently flattered myself," says Denis, laughing. "We all do it; but I think I can honestly say novor to that extent." "Well," persist! the Dachas, positively, "now that it has occurred to mo, I anv sure I reminded myself of somebody this morning wheu I was doing my hair before tho glass. It must have been you. Como over here," slipping her hand into his and drawing him to where a deep pool Jies drowsily in tho tho sunshine, encompassed 1 y fer:i3 and mosses. Over this sho bends, scrutinizing tho faint, imperfect reflection of her charms 1ft throws up to her. Deli ato, vaguo, unsat isfactory it is, yet swe-it withal. Denis, standing behind hor and gazing over nor shoulder, can soo the quivering image that so maligns her pure and perfect beauty, and turns with impatience to tho living c riginal besido him. She is still absorbed in tracing a likeness that does not oxjst, and a sudden desiro to piny upon her an old schoolboy trick, and so disturb hor thoughts, takes possession of him. " Passing his hunds round her waist from the back he pushes her well over tho brink of the pool, holding her thus for an instant, and then drawing h:r back to terra firn'ia. "There! only for mo you would have boon in," he says vaingloriously. "Oh, Donis!" cries sho, genuinely startled. Then sho laughs, and with his arms still en-' circling her sho looks book at him over hor shoulder with parted lips and brightcUod eyes. Her attitude brings her head almost! to his shoulder. She was never yet so near to his heart. Was she ever yet so lovely? His pulses aro beginning to beat madly, his eyes grow warm. The laugh Is still fresh upon her lips. My lovo whoso lips nre softer far, Than drowsy poppy petals nre, And sweeter than the violet. But tho smile has died from his. Thera is a quick, irrepressible movement, Ho Lends over her nearer nearer still; and then Le loosens his hoi I of her and stands back, a frown cpoa his brow, his faco a littlo pale. "Aro you frlghtenod?" asks she lightly. "D'd you think I was raally going to fall in? Ha! Did punishment then overtako you? But you should know that I am suro footod as a goat; that I seldom catch myself tripping." She is evidently puzzled a good deal by the change in his manner, which has gono from "grave to gay, from lively to severe,' 1 without a second's warning, and would per haps have subjected him to a rather em barrassing cross-examination, but that aft this moment tho appearance of a woman aft tho lower end of tho path attracts both their attention. CHAPTER VIII. To mortal men prout loads allotto-l bo. Hut of nil pucks no paofc liko poverty. ' She is a woman, withered, fjid slightly bent, and wretchedly dressed, as are all poor Irish peasants. Her petticoat, mado of a thick blue flannel, is short, aud patched liberally hero and there. No stockings' cover her legs, nop boots her feet, which, though wonderfullysmall are hard as tho path itself and roughened by work and ex posure. An old jacket, worn at the elbows and very much the worso for wear, covers her body, and over her shoulders a dingy little red aud block shawl is thrown. Clothing enough certainly for a hot day, In July, buV alas 1 terribly insufficient for the frosts and snows of winter; and when they come there will be nothing extra to cover that poor, frail body. Poverty has no diversity of costumes wherewith to meet the exigencies of each coming season. Seeing Norah tho woman quickened hor footsteps, already marvclously ngilo for a woman past fifty. "Anl Biddy, is that you?" snys Norah, asking tho superfluous but kindly question v with a smile. "Good morning, your honor, my lady," returns tho woman, this being a very usual cjoetiug iu the south i Ireland to thos4 -known to bo of "dacent blood. " Thero is no such ardent admirer of aristocracy as tho Irish peasant. "Are yo in a hurry. Miss? Might I h-ive a word wid ye, Miss Norah?" "What is it now, Biddy?" asks tho Duchess, anxiously, "Nothing wrong with littlo Larry?" "No, Miss, gkry bo to God, he's botthor an bcttner eve-, y day. But tell me, alan na, 'tis the masther I want to see. Is he up above?' meaning Ballyhinch, not heaven. "I lelt him there about half an hour ago." It is impossible for Denis, who is standing by, not to become conscious thaft she has found tim in his society to run wonderfully i wift. "What do you want from him now, Biddy?" "Faix, miss, a bit of a sthick, no moro. . I thought as how he'd give mo wan out of the wooil beyant to keep up the house. Tho rafthors is givin' way liko, but if I could get somothm' to prop 'em up wid they'd hould together if only for a year it-olf. One o' thim young threes, miss, out of tho plantation would do. The masther, God bias him! is good to all, an' if ye think, miss, ho'd givo it " "I know l.o will. Hurry up, Biddy, be cause ho may l e going out. By the by," detaining her, "how's Dan? when did you hoar from him?" "Suro t'.iut was. fartly what was bringln' me up to the house. But," shyly, "whoa I saw ye wid the glntleman," with a shy glance tit Denis. "Anyhow, Miss, 'twas this morn in' a letter came. I'vo got it hero wid me," pulling it out of her bosom. "MayLe ye'd liko to read It?" "Of course I should," said tho Duchess, heartily. "Dear me, what a good boy ha always was!" "Thruo for ye, misi," intensely gratified. "God Hew ye! Yo have the good word al ways for rich an' poor. D'ye see, alanna," poi.iting to the letter with nngovernablo pride, " 'tis a'.l the way from Chayny it has cotr e. Glory to the Blessed Mother I but isn't it a sight of tho world he it seein', an' bim the biggest blackguard wltin he wis atho.r.e! Isn't it wonderful Miss Nora, sew? A spalpeen that I wa forever leathering be was such a dtvil all out, wid hU pranks and tricks, savin' your presence, mlw. Even Father Jerry himself wasn't safo from him; an' there he is nowai grand ns tho best of 'em, scrvin' aboard a man-o'-war." "Well, why shouldn't ho?" says Nohah. "Where's the sailor that's better than an Irish sailor?" "Fegs, and that's fjrue, too, "acknowl edges the gratified n.othor. "Ho sint m a three pound note, miss, along with th letther. Thero's for ye now? Fair, yes) He'd never forget his old mammy, he says. D'ye know, Miss Norah, I'm dead sorry now as ever I oat that boyj" TO D3 CONtlM lP.