HOW I PAWNED MY OPALS.
[By H. Derwent.]
CHAPTER I.
IN HAMLINGTON.
A few years ago there was not a railway station within a hundred mlles of Hamllngton. But we had a daily mail from Melbourne, which was delivered at 7 p.m, when the coach arrived at the fixed time. In winter, however, this was very seldom, and the safety-valve which was thus afforded for the Ill-temper and uncharitableness of the township was invaluable. "'What I want to know is, how much longer are we to put up with this sort of infamy!" Captain Goring would say, with an incipient tinge of purple in the tip of hie nose. It was rather a prominent organ, and was always the first to show any emotion In the old Captain's faoe. That he rarely got letters from anyone beyond the confines of Hamlington, and that his correspondence was chiefly confined to missives which had a neat slit at each end, and " Invoice only," printed on them, did not In the least allay the old gentleman's wrath. The "shameful irregularity" of the mall was a kind of red rag, which he kept by him for chronic nee, and waved vigorously when the monotony of life at Hamlington threatened to derange his liver. For no doubt Hamiington was monotonous, though those of us who were bred in its atmosphere of quiet and leisure were not much affected by the want of excitement. We had croquet and evening parties in abundance, and twice a year we launched into the extravagance of subscription balls, after which two certain events happened. The Rev. Nicodemus Pash delivered what his admirers calied an "earnest and stirring discourse" on the evils of dissipation, in whioh "ashes and cinders," and " apples of Sodom," and many other striking metaphors figured largely if not very coherently, for the Rev. Nicodemus was a man with a large gift of fluency which was repressed by no consclousness of limited knowledge or neccesslty of logical sequence. He prided himself upon being low church, and particularly insisted on the certainty of damnation for the large majority of his fellow-beings. But on the other hand he was much given to dwelling on the joys of Paradise,
and used to draw most florid pictures of the
felicity of eternal reunion with our " beloved ones." As the Rev. Nicodemus was married to his third wife, it was a moot question with Bess and myself how he would manage about reunion. We had a very vivid mental vision of Nicodemus with the three Mesdames Pash In a circle round him. The other event was that Mrs. Squareup emphatically declared to each of her friends in confidence, that she really did not think she could allow Emmeline and Jane to go to the subscription bails any more. Too much champagne was drunk, and the young men— "now, didn't you notice yourself, my dear, some
excitement in their manner before the ball broke up?" Mrs. Squareup would say in a tone of tha deepest concern, as if fearful that
Emmeline at thirty-six and Jane at thirty-eight
might discover how black was the world from which she protected their dewy innocence. And then amateur concerts were by no means rare, at which our music-master Herr Bohn used to play severely classical music for an unbelieving and unregenerate audience seeking novelty and fire- works, and where Mrs. Warbler, after presslng solicitation, sang" Why do summer roses fade?" in a pale-blue silk dress, with what is technically termed a V, and a surprising train, "So unbecoming to her, you know, a woman of her
age," Mrs. Ashgrove would invariably remark. But this was such a constant phrase with the
latter that no one attached much meaning to it on her lips, except, perhaps, her husband, who understood it to mean" a young and far prettier woman" Mrs. Warbler really dressed well, while Mrs. Ashgrove, with three sandy- haired, freckled daughters, was always making frantic efforts at once to lead the fashions and make their dresses at home. " Ah, yes, my dears, they are pretty dresses in a way; but to my mind the Melbourne dressmakers always gives a frlvolous effect to the skirts," he would say, when Bess and myself returned from a visit to the metropolis. But next time we saw Mrs. Ashgrove and her daughters ten to one lf she had not clothed them in disguised copies of our Melbourne dresses, "with all the frivolity in the skirts and the good taste left on, " Bess declared. Mrs Ashgrove was not the most favourable specimen of Hamllngton society; but as her husband, Dr. Ashgrove, was in partnership with onr father, we were in a manner
obliged to see more of her than we wished. This partnership had been entered into three
yean previously on account of our father's delicate health. It was this delicacy of constitution —weak lungs—which had in the spring of 187—decided father to take a trip to England "and the Contlnent," as we have learned to say, with a kind of vague grandeur. We were all to go, that is all of us who were at home, besides our parents, to wit, Bess and myself. The eldest of us, Mabel, was married to a doctor, settled in Queensland, and James, an only brother, was making his way as a squatter on a small scale in the same colony.
We were within a week of leaving Hamlington, when father lost a large sum of money he
had invested in Ballarat mining shares. The day after this news reached us something occurred that put an end to all prospect of travel and sight-seeing as far as I was concerned.
I left my mother in the dining-room with her accounts, and went out to Bess in the garden, where I had left her half an hour previously. In that interval she had been joined by Dlck Fitzgibbon. Parentheses are hateful, but I must explain that Dlck had come to the National Bank in Hamlington five months previously, that he was the son of an old Collage friend of father's, and had been in consequence a constant visitor at our home since his arrival in the place. He was a merry good-looking young man of twenty-two, Bess was a girl of twenty one with a ready wit and lovely brown eyes. Dick had nothing but a miserable salary of £90 a year; of course they fell in love, and of course the approaching departure brought matters to
a crisis. Dick had "spoken" to Bess five days ago, and Bess though she was reckless enough to admit that she re turned the young Irishman's passion, was not quite- hardened enough to add to her father's troubles by allowing Dick to speak to her parents. They were standing beneath the Moreton Bay fig-tree — the pride of our garden—when I seme out, with a look of ineffable "spooniness" on both their faces.' Needless to say that they tried to look as grave and abstracted as if they had been discussing conic sections. As Bessie was my senior by a year it was only fitting she should set me an example of
unimpeachable decorousness.
"Weil, Nell," she said, with a surprising assumption of not being caught, "have you been reading Murray and making the sign of the cross
over ancient cathedrals."
"Nothing of the sort, I am not going at ail,'
" Not going at ail!" echoed Bess and Dick simultaneously.
"Oh, but what a shame, Nell," continued my sister.
"No, its my own fault," I replied drearily. " Oh dear, what a dreadful thing it is to be such an idiot ai I am. Five minutes ago I suddenly volunteered to stay, and now I'm in suoh a state of despair I can't even cry."
" But how came you to make such a melancholy offer, Nell ?" asked Dlok.
"Well,' mother sat there adding up columns of flgures, and looking so worried and horribly meek and long-suffering, as If she felt acutely how criminal it is to hare two expensive girls to take abroad, but couldd not really help it. I thought of offering to go as a stowaway, but the thought of the aldermanic rats,with a paunoh, ' wie Dr. Luther,' that infest the holds of ships damped my spirits; then I felt sorry she had not sent us to a baby farm in our infancy. I could not get a gleam of satisfaction out of our existence from any point of view."
" Oh, you raging heathen," said Dick folding Bessie's hand in his long brown fingers.
" Now don't you interrupt, Dick," returned Bess gravely. " Well, Nell - I understand—you were rather low-spirited all day; and I notice it is always when one is most depressed that ohe le apt to rush unthinkingly into the vortex of virtue. But go on."
"At last mother laid down her pencii, and gave a great sigh that turned the scales. 'Mother, I said,"will it make much difference it I stay.' 'Oh, my dear, you would not like to do that !" said the mother with a sudden light in her face, 'Yes' I said qnite brazenly. 'I can pay my long promised visit to the Harrowbys, and then go to see Mabel. I shall be quite happy." Here Dick threw up his hands with an expression of tragic horror at my mendacity."
"And what did mother say then?" asked Bess. "She thanked me in a broken voice and folded me in her arms, and then the last linger ing hope died out of my heart. You know when one contemplates a stupendous piece of
self-sacrifice a mean little expectation remains that at the very last something will interpose to save one—like the cloud that hid Sphigenia from the sacrificing priests."
"I didn't think the loss of a thousand pounds would have reduced us to such abject poverty" said Bess reflectively, " Perhaps I ought to offer to stay as well?" '
"Oh, no that little cough you luckily get
occasionally will save you," I returned, half indignant at the robustness of my own constitu tion which obstinately refused to betray the slightest symptom of delicacy in any direotlon.
" Weil, now, Nell, it's really frlghtfully good of you to give up your trip like this," said Dick in a tone of mournful sympathy. "And will you really like staying with the Harrowbys ?"
"Oh yes; the only drawbacks are that Hester and Louise are ferociously learned, that John Harrowby and Nell hardly notice each
other of late, while this Professor is
simply oblivious of the existence of anything more youthful than a Sanskrit verb. He is a Professor of the Dead Languages, and has an abstracted dried-up look as if he lived on Greek and Latin roots; aid Mrs. Harrowby (she is mother's first cousin, you know), considers that the whole of us are brought up on wrong principles," sald Bess,answering for me.
" Faith, you wouldn't be so plump, my pigeon, if you weren't brought up on something more nourishing than prlnclples," returned Dick, langhing.
"Well, Bess, lt'a hardly fair of you to sum up the family like that," I put, in. "Certainly, John and I are not such fast frlends as we used to be; he has had too much to take up his atten tion, what between his work as a rising lawyer and his engagement, and breaking it off.*
"That is such an odd affair you must know," said Bess, addressing Dick. "John Harrowby two years ago got engaged to a Miss Vandome—an heiress -with thlrty or forty thousand pounds of her very own. She is rather good-looking, but with such a very strong dash of vulgarity. John is extremely fastidious, and you couldn't see them together without being conscious that she was constantly irritating him in one direction or another. They had been engaged for six months when quite suddenly it was broken off, and no one ever knew who took the initiative. Miss Vandome went with an aunt for a trip to the old world. She returned six months ago, and now she and John are quite good friends again, and what will be the end of it no one knows, except perhaps Mrs. Harrowby, in whose eyes thirty or forty thousand pounds
ls an ample atonement for all kinds of deficiencies."
"Louise—that's the one I saw here when I came first to Hamlington, I think—is a very nice girl, only you always felt that you stood upon a vast abyss of ignorance into which you might at any moment plunge headlong, when you were talking to her."
"Oh, but you know, Dick, its the proper thing for glrls now to be up in the sciences and the old religions and the modem languages and mathematics. I feel quite ashamed when I think how Nell and myself idled away our time over the old poets and writers, and a little French and German. Sometimes we made up our minds to attack Euclid, and so we used to begin a preparatory course of arithmetic, but oh dear, we are so shamefully backward in sums. There it one about so much money to be divided among men, women, and children."
"Bedad.I wish there was a little more of it floating about . But, my angel, what would become of a poor ignorant spalpeen like me if you were perched upon the topmost bough of the tree of knowledge? I'll never forget the shame and confusion that fell on me once talking to a sweet glrl graduate a few weeks before I left home. She was my brother's slster-in- law more by token, and I felt no diffidence in trotting off on the1 broken-kneed old conversational hacks—the weather and the shooting. In fact, I had just launched out in the history of one at my father's old parishioners, when she brought me up short with some quest about the Archaeological SocIety. A party of them had been prowling about our district looking after some 'remains' or another. Did you ever hear of such a term? I get a kind of clammy feeling at the very mention of it. Well, in a few minutes Miss Gray was soaring miles above me. Yes girls, dear, it was exactly as if she was at at an immense altitude overhead; now and then some such term as 'cosmlc emity' and 'protoplasm' came booming down on me, and I just sat there with my mouth, agape, vowing cartloads of the largest tapers to all the saints in the calendar if only they would deliver me. Yon know how in what the novelists call a supreme crisis one involuntarily goes back to the old faith. Weil, there I sat, and never a saint took pity on me, and at last I became dimly conscious that Miss Gray asked
me a direct question, ending in microcosm. Mlcrocosm? I grew hot and I grew cold, while a wild whirl of thoughts passed through mybrain. Was it a new tribe of savages discovered by Herbert Spencer? a modern sort of wall-paper? or stay, was it not a kind of blscult? Ah, thank goodness, I had it at last. Miss Gray had taken pity on my darkness and at last breached a subject on which I could make a rational remark. ' Yes they are very nice,' I responded cheerfully. "What is very nice?" retorted Miss Gray with a look of profound amazement. 'Microcosms" I faltered out, and then a horrible suspicion flitted through my brain that there might be no real connection between maccaroons and microcosm. Ah, but that was a mal puart
d'heure."
There was an irresistible drollery about Dick's method of telling a story, a raciness in his brogue that always provoked laughter of
Itself.
"Weil, it seems to me we shall all be very dull after the jolly times and the fun we have had; the father and mother are always so wrapped up In each other, I shall feel little like a third party in a honeymoon trip," said Bees, rather drearily.
"Faith, we'll have no third party when our honeymoon comes," said Dick, looking unutterable things.
" Dick, don't you think you had better speak to father before he leaves," I said, prosaically breaking in on this rapturous prospeot.
"Ah, my dear girl, that's what I want to do badly, but Bess shrinks from the thought of it, while your father has so much on his mind ; if I could only get that rise of £15 or £20 a year I should pluck up courage at once."
"Well, how an additional £15 a year could appease the anger of an indignant parent, I am at a loss to understand," I answered a little crossly.
"Ah, but it does Nell," answered Dick, earnestly. "I have wrltten heaps of letters, and its always when I come to that part I get stuck. And how often have I, in thought, and with Bess, 'rehearsed the scene till both our hearts beat. I would come outwardly resolved to speak to the Doctor, but inwardly hoping he was away. Just as I came in at the gate here, however, there would be a light in the surgery. As soon as I asked for your father, and flnd my self shown in, there every scrap of my native eloquence would desert me. Nothing of the English language would remain in my memory, save the most brutal idioms and proverbs which attest to the grasping Saxon's adoration of wealth. It would be with difficulty that I
could say 'how do you do ?' instead of 'when want comes In at the door, love flies out at the window.' Then your father would notice an unusual pallor on my manly countenance, give me one of his rapid professional glances, and say --
"'Well, Fitz, has the muscular Christianity of the period been too much for you, knocked yourself out of gear with cricket, eh ?'
"'Well, no Sir, but the fact of the matter ls— I— my heart.'
"'Pooh, your heart—what about it?' your father would say, taking up hls stethoscope.
"'What can minister to a mind diseased?" I would gasp.
"'Tush, boy, it's nothing more than a slight derangement of the digestive organs, a couple of liver pills.'
"'Oh ! not liver, pills, Sir, but Miss Bessie,' I would at last stammer out, and then the Doctor would plunge his hands deep into his trousers pockets and smile that half ironical
little smile that fathers keep in stock for such occasions*. 'So that's the way the land lies, is It? And what do you think Miss Bess herself will say?"
" 'Oh, Sir, we adore each other—we have loved from the first moment we met' .
""Indeed! Well, Fitzgibbon, you're the son of my oldest and dearest friend; personally I have no objection to you as a prospective son- in-law—but what is your income? how do you propose to support a family ?. what prospects have you ?"
"'My great aunt has a tidy little property worth five hundred a year.; she has quarrelled with all her relatives except myself. Never haying seen eaoh other we are the best of friends,' '
"' Yes, yes, but in the meantime—now ?'
"' Now, Sir, I have a sage-green tea-cosy, with is sunflower on it—bought at a Church bazaar, and £90 a year;' and then, glrls.would come that awful glance of your father's, under which I would feel myself slowly dwindling into nothlngness—my last recollection of this sinful world being that strange enlargement cut off some unfortunate man's tibia, that your father keeps in spirits on one of his shelves. Now, girls, I put it to you—what man could stand such an ordeal as that? But, Bess, if you'll allow me, I'll speak to your father this very evening.'
Everyone knows how obstinate a girl can be. Bess had taken it into her head that Dick's proposal on his very slender income would be the last straw in the culmination of troubles that now worried our father.
Nothing of the kind, Dick," she said, promptly getting up from the rustic spindle-
legged bench, on which we had been sitting under our favourite flg-tree. "Some day when we are on the voyage," she said, picking a leaf to bits with her pretty filbert-nailed fingers,
"when the sun is shining, and the waves are
dancing, and father has recovered some of his old spirits, and is rejoicing at tne prospect of
soon seeing grandma once more—then I'll tell
him all about It, and I'll forthwith write a letter to you both, that will make you weep for joy—at least Dick will—as for Neil, she's an awfully hard thing at times —no sentiment can melt her."
OHAPXKR n.
AM MMWHCIMD MOMTPTO.
I had been joet four weeke in town, when to my amazement one afternoon I saddenlymet 1 Dick Fitzgibbon in Elizabeth-* twet., I had
. been writing letter* all , the forenoon to my . parent* and Steele, and as. the mail tna to oloie at £ I went oat at d to put them." Hester . and. Loniie were constantly at apmeclass or attending one of a course of University Ieptores, *o that I had freqnently .togo oatalone. Hot . -that I minded—whatgiri bred in the bosh does ?
.But Mr*. Harrowby bid at: first made a point of . mynotgolngthrough thettreets uusoopmpanied.
Bo on a few occasions Blanche Mand.the under . booMtpafd, decked in oa.mach finery a* she . oculd possibly smuggle on her per*on, had gone \ cut with me, and bestowed moetzflable bows on 'direr* postmen, bakers, and policemen, who . had returned the salutation with beqign grins,
: and in some instanoesoometo a dead pause—no idonbtwith the objeot of giving " Blanche Hand" an opportunity of introducing them to lur/Kctuf- It was too absnrd—and of ooorsein Sihart time 2 dispensed with aucha grotesque imitation of proteetion. It w*e the day after
• Oup day—that great Toumanhop festival at j ? which Dran Bwift'* aatire is literally realized in i Melbourne—when the horse is the proud msater - of the sitnation, when.he.reeeive* the homage of
ftverisb thousands, and ia paramount injm many hearts, load on to many lip*. The street* of
course were much more crowded than ordinarily, and the contrast between them and the leisurely semi-deserted thoroughfares of - Hamlington gave me a keen enjoyment of the - spectacle. At the Post-Offioe there wasa perfect
cram, so that it was a matter of time to get my letter* posted. After accomplishing this feat I . tamed homeward, amusing myself with specu
lating about the divers types of faces I met. • There mi a hawk-eyed Jew whose Semitio nose
would of itself bsve traced his lineage straight back to Abraham; his quick dark eyes seemed - to search in the multitude round him for the
Gentile* who were so ready to beoome the debtors of his race; jostling on his heel* cams ? the well-dressed, somewhat reoklees looking
yoang zqulttcr, who habitually haunts town when raoM are on, and who as habitually oomes downs ."cropper" before he return to bis pastoral possession* in the heart of the placid solemn woods; beside him goes harrying on a
; thick-lipped, heavy-jawed man with a flushed ;
faoe and an evil look in his eyes—a man who has long fed on the huki that the swine did eat; on the opposite side is a wan-looking girl in a shabby dress, carrying a portfolio of musio. I recognise in her one of the yoluntary martyrs . who advertise .to give musio lessons for one
guinea a quarter; the Is. harrying on to the ' dwelling of some small -shopkeeper or artisan,
whose daughters are taught to draw vfllanous treee and impossible bridges, to play inferior marie on a had piano, and to consider them . selves entitled to be styled " ladies" in conse . queues of these superlative accomplishments; . and here is a happy tamily from the country of
three sons andfonr daughters, youthfnl oopies ! of their treble-chinned riannts, who hive that
look of doll content which is characteristic ot i j>«opIe whose mental oat-look is immovably
tationsry—blooked up for all their lives by an
all-sufficing answer to the question—WhatpfiaU we eat, andwhat shall we drink.indwhere withal •hell we be clothed.? . And in oontrsst to this numrrotu badly comes s tolitarjlookiug young nun with a painfully depressed aspect-. Be U distinctly gentlemanlike, andJJwre.isimmetbing in hisqeit.and-the cakof his garments, {tad. Jjbe freshnctsof his complexion, which mwfcs.him bj a Dew arrival. : Has he spent ah his money ob the passage out, and Already focnd thatfo?a p unties* man who eannot dig and is Ashamed to beg the jstrqggle for existence in this large over-populated city of; the" .underworld ? is as dire as intbepld country ? And who la this with.the white iace, nod the dowooast loch? Another: young man witha most unhappy oonntenSnce! It .will serve to show;the.absolute change In Dick's face when ! say that for ope brief instant I did not know him. . As for blip, he did not notice me ;I doubt if he really .saw anything? that was round him. , A sickening feeling of Apprehension;—a dread of some evil inihed through my mind. Be would have passed me in the crowd .but I hurried .up to him andtouched his arm. He.turned ronnd with a qutakstait. . .
* Ob, Nellie," he said,.and. bis voloe was as much changed as the expression of his faoe. . It was hard and metallic, with all the jovial care less musio of yonth and high spirits gone out
Of ik .
** Dick, you are surely Ul," I said, lookiog into his face anxiously.
•No, that is I*m apt very well," he Answered slowly. ...He .turned at>d walked .up Qcllins-s treet with me, and I waitedforhimto ?peak, tp tell .me, what: ailed him. .$at he
volunteered no explanation ; he absolutely, began .
to say something abont.the weather.:
, "Oh, Dick what do I care lor the weather ? Tell ne about yourself. When did you oome to town? Whydidn't y on findmeout?"
: "I only came the day before yesterday," he answered, "and—the fact is, Nell, I've got into a horrible scrape, and there's no use intelling yon abont it, poor dear; it will only make yon
fret"
. " But, Diok. ril (ret all the more^if ypn don't tell me. The look of y onr face la aa bad at any thing yon oan toll me. Bare yon—resigned your place in the Bank ?*
"No; Trereceived my promotion at last,.and hare been sent Into town. Tec, just fancy how jolly we would have been only for this.. Well, of oonrsr, I most tell yon now, Nell.. I arrived in town, as I told yon, on the Sid, the very even ing before Onp day. On Qneen'e Wharf, just aa I .landed, who ahonld I meet but Harry Quia.
He was a shipmate of mine, and we were both, very glad to meet again. He eame. out to a .bachelor,, ancle, a rioh.old squatter m.':the JUverina District.. He had come into 'town to dispose of a mpb of oattle> and see tosome
other atation business. I went with him that night to the hotel at wbioh he stayed, and nezt deywe went bo the xmm together.;' He intro duced me to some of his friends, and ail went right enough. I betted alittle, as,.every-one else did, bat nothing to rpeak of. Harry hadto leavo that evening, and bajff jan hoar before .he went he asked me If I . would oblige hlmby taking charge of £200 and depositing it for him next morning in the Bank—the National—you know, my own Bank, as he did, not .Want to travel with so much money on him,, though, probably, he would draw it in a few days.as he was going to buy some stud rams on his way back for his nncle. I ought to have placed it in the Bank yesterday, but I was not in town in time," he eaid, " Of course, I took charge of the money, and"-—
"Dick, yon have lost it," I arid quickly,.at Dick paused,
"Well, Neil.it would be easy for me to say I lost it," returned Diok in a profoundly dejected tone, "bat, .then, I know that Jam miserably to blame."
"Bnt surely,. Dick— oh, no." . 1 was not so ignorant, of masculine human nature aa to be nnaware that men—and young men especially— will sometimes cveratop the bounds of modera tion, hot I could approach the subject only 'In
W
. " Well, not quite," aniwered Diok, tovrbom the panses were eloquent," bnt jnst that'stage when one 'feels as mirthful as a harp In the handacf an angel far Paradise without the least logical reason in the world. Ob, Nell, I'm afraid yon 11 think, me a worthless beast: but it wee an ezolHng, kind of a day, and a fellow takes a sip of this and.of that, and then I was with a lot more yonug fellows in a billiard-room, till some one proposed'we ahonld go to the theatre, I went tind put on another coat, and left my pooketbook in the one l pat off. This morning' I woke 'up at fl' o'dlook,
dreaming I had lost Harry (join's money.; I. got up at ones, and went to. aearoh my pookets, and fonnd the pocketbookwasreally gone !"
" Oh Diok, how dreadful, what will you do ?" "The first thing I did was to tell the land lord, bnt the only reenlt was a. surprising amount of profanity, bnt he finally pnt the matter Into the hands of the deteotives. However, I don't expect ever to see the money again. When a man makes sheh a.glorions fool of himself, he has no right to expect the interposition of Pro vidence in bis fayonr. In the meantime a cheque may oome in from Harry Qnin at any moment. Of course, if I knew whereabouts he
were I would not have the slightest hesitation' in writing and telling him. He would give me time to refund the moqey."
"Bat, Diok, why don't yon tell the Manager
all about it?"
" Because, my dear girl, to much embezzle
ment and money sharping of all sorts goes on at1 raoe time among young men in town,thateonfess ing to anymoney trouble is like taking onta patent for a bad character. And I'm quite a stranger here, with spy way to ,make. As ill-luck would have it, Frank Hamilton,~whocould atonoe help, me through this scrape, is ill of t fever. All the money I have in the world is £80."
We had almost reached the gate opposite to the Harrowbys' big handsome house in Fitzroj-terraca. Some dim purpose was form ing in the back of my head to help Diok, what I oonld hardly say, as I knew that my pocket-' money , in all eohid not be more than £35.
"Nell, I'm almost sorry I met yon,'you look . so troubled and miserable,*' said Diok, as we' stood by the gate.
" No, dent say that, Dick. 1 ean, I must do something. Will yon meet me near here to morrow about 3 o'clock?" ' '
f but,ilell, don't uk your friends for., money for . me,'" ' said Dick, flash-" lag op painfully.;' "don't tell tbem iui^thi'ig about.thia.n. , *
; •'Oh, no, Dick, ! don't mean to," I answered,' wi th an inward, shadier at .the bare thoaght df telling Mrp.'iJarjroffby pfmy perpleitty had Dick's 4K»hhler'., I mold', feel the ':cklrri,: astonished gaze.of bey pale,'. prominent .eyes riveted on my face as she asked me: —" And' pray who ia this yoang man Jwhomyoa half Pick?" . And If then and there! told bet that'
he was to ha engaged to Bess when their pirbptf
gave their oonsent she would hare regardod 'me in the light of one of the evils that threaten the' stability ofsociety. ? .
As eoopaal got to my own room ! turned- out my parse, and found it contained,five poahds in' notes, two half sovereigns, end faome ellver ; I then took pockefcbook out of thereto esses ot my .trunk and aubjeeted it to a rigid scrutiny; When going away my father had given me my half,yearly allowance on a maoh more liberal scale than ordinarily, and I ain sorry to say that I bad in oonseqaencebought ih6re pretty things to wear of late .than there was any absolute necessity for. ' I .thonght 'oi this with remorse, as I counted sli my tnoney lllie the king in' the tut eery tale. My pocket-book contained a roll of twenty one-pound notes, one 10-pound note, and some change. Bo at that mo ment I had exactly £30 15s. fid. - Then if I lent Dick £85, along with hia £30, there would still be £115 needed to make.op the £200 he had lost. There was a tap at my
door." ' . i.i;
-Ihavetwrtrgbt yona cup of tea, Nail; the tray'had jaab gone ont of the diawlng-room wKen you came In. We. we're wondering -where ion were."
Louise Mt on tbe side of my bed as I tipped
the tea.
' " By-the-w»y,Nell," the said aa she wai going ont," what are yon going; to wear this evening ? Ton know there are tome people eoming to
dinner."
" Oh, anything," I aniwered wearily. If one ie planning to tare a fellow-ereatnre'e life it ia hard to hare one's thought* dlatracted by saoh irrelevant questions. No wonder some women who are anxious about their souls retire into seolnded convents.
" Bnt .that's, jost what yon mosn'l do. Jaok was wondering tbe other day what yon had done with your opals. Wear them to-night with that pale-bine silk of yonrs. Ah, why do yon blush so furiously. Is there amy history oonneoted with your jewels that yon are keeping a secret ?"
" Only tbe old-hiatory that they, were left to me by the meat benevolent of godmothers," I answered, laughing joyously, for the word "opala" had touched the weoret thought that had been slowly developing in one side of my brain. I suppose the want of acientifio preoision in tbia is something .terrible. But how else shall I describe that troubled vague groping after a fugitive thought, which some oboioe allusion all at once makes distinctly luminous ?
In a trioe I had taken out the quaint old oaken casket that pontslhed" the opal necklace,. bequeathed to .ine 'V hoy' godmother. They were of .tbe ,kind cailed noble opals; in their yonth' they had' ieposed in the reoesset of
Simpnka, in Hungary.. Hod long they had beeii journeying among the" children of men it wps. impossible to say "; probably 'more than a century, to jndge by their old-fashioned pavi setting, of plain gold, of that deep yellow which the old ballad writers ,call "the 'red, red gold." My father jbad often laughingly said:—"Well, Nell, yon have always a few hundred pounds between you
and want in that necklace™—a sentiment whloh
had seemeld to me little abort of sacrilege, -so fondly did I love those gleaming gems; whloh seemed to hold in ambush all the tints of sky and flown and rainbow, flashing "And blacking ont suddenly as one looked at them, like meteors' playing at hide-and-seek. It was angoish to think pf parting with my necklace —bnt I need not sell them, I thought; l ean pawn them. All the eonfased memories I- had of pawnshops pointed to the fact", that they were kept by "harpies who thirated for profit and were ready to ery "naught,naught' to the moat preoions heirlooms. But sorely the moit godless pawnbroker alive would advanee at lenat'£l30 on my opals ? X had loved them for their beauty, because they- had In them the bright fiery flams of the carbuncle, the floe relnlgent purple of an amethyst, and a whole sea of the emerald's green glory, while behind all this fitfal brilliancy spread a soft delloious milky-way of bashfal serenity. Now I could have gone on my knees with thankfulness that they were' so costly. The temptation rose strong before me to steal1 ont there and then and hie to one of the numerous pawnshops which I had noticed in going aboat Melbourne. On several occasions I had scandalized Mrs. Harrowby when ont with her by standing before the pawnshop"' windows 'and regarding their contents with undisguised interest. They seemed so lull of pathetio stories—those pledges from the homes and lives of human beings. "Unhappily it was frequently my fate to ehook Mre. Harrowby. Bnt the habit was hereditary; indeed, nothing in our intercourse with eaoh other annoyed me more than a habit she had of saying,"Tour poor father,*' when talking to me of him. I suppose tbe chief cause for this element of chronic compassion was his steady avoidanoe of chnreh.Bolng. During one of his visits to Melbourne at Christmas time, Mrs. Harrowby bad pointedly naked him If he wonld not go to Church—at least on Christmas Day. To whloh my father had replied,"My dear Jane, though I am naturally of an eoonomlo turn of mind, I prefer not to mix up my swearing and praying in a sporting lot, so to speak." This allusion to the Athansslan Creed filled the measure of my father's iniquity in Mrs. Harrowby's mind. Thus it will be seen that she was the last one to whom I oould oonftde any perplexity, and I felt it would not be fair to tell Louise and Hester anything that must be kept a secret from their mother.
It was not a'krge dinner-party—ten in all. The principal guests were Archdeacon Tamtam and his wife. The Arehdeswon was a smiling bhernbio-looklng little mam, in whose month snob themes as sin and sorrow and death seemed like pale traditions of things that oonld have no existence. His wife was large and serene and masterful, always carrying a complex kind of hendbasket containing generally a yard or two
j of coarse fltnnrl to be manufactured Into petti j eoafafor destitute babies. Of course this was I verygobdof the Archdeiconess, but one oonld ! bave wished that the flannel was riot of quite iwohi penitential kind. Indeed, sombbfthi 1 WortbyWoman's most impress! re stories Were
j of the' ingratitude' often displayed by the
recipients of her bounty. «I am - Very poori fotoiniy, bntTatn not going to teaf my baby's eitinofl wltb tkat.n "Yes, my dear,tbUie-Vbre the woman's very words," speaking bfsoiha delinquent with asolemn shake pf her bea^; hnd fben shewould say something abstrusely pious abont people not taking trouble, as it was meant for their good. The ArehdeibOneeshad
e Way pf 'alinding to the Almighty as the Great Disposer of Brents with a oertoln air of patron age, to if din had promoted Him bo the Dlreotor ahipof a Joint-Stock Oompiny. 1 did not hare an opportunity of profiting by herdiscoarse, as John Harrowby had token me in to dinner and monopolized most of my attention.
" What ahbwling swell yon are, Nellie; those opals of yonrs iare real beauties."
This Was the very opening I wished. I tried to speak carelessly as I looked down and answered, " Yfes, they are great pets of'mine. I have often wondered in a vague way what kind of emergency would make me tell them, and if the necessity arose how mnoh I oonld get for them."
"Have yon now? . Fray what loads your thoughts to be sicklied o'er with Mob a pale hoe
of avarice?"
"Avarice do yoacaU it? If you were auoh an ignoramus as I am yon would often find your self conjecturing what..yon could do if yon hadn't a crust to eat and yuur last penny was spent." . ?:
"By Jove, 'what a touching piotnre of misery," returned John, smiling and pulUng.st hit long tawny moustache. „ "I should think that to wear opals so gracefully krone of the best souroes of inoome a yoang lady oonld desire."
"But, joking aside, what do yon think a pawn broker, for instance, would lend me on my necklaoe?"
" Upon my word : you shook me with the meroenary spirit yon display. Well, I suppose a man like Zski Jndah—you know the large
Mont de K6t£ at the corner of street— who does a respectable business in his way, would lend £140 or £150 on it—that is about a fourth of its value." ...
I could not -very well under pretenoe of making conversation ask for.farther particulars regarding the praetioes of pawnbrokers, bat as Ztki Jndah was supposed to have.a respectable business of * its kind," and as I knew where his establishment was situated, I resolved to ,take my .necklaoe to him as early as possible on. the
morrow.
CHAPI&K HI.
*OT>AH OF THB BOUM OF TMU1T.. ;
" The children of men are an ungrateful and stiff-necked race. If forty-five days are calm and prosperous, and the forty-sixth day roogh and disastrous, they 'straightway write melan choly histories Of that latt day, and say, ?" Life is a cheat and a burden.". We remember • bat too wellthe honra in ,whiob"3Sme par a maniao aoattoring dost, and life a fury slinging flame;" but we do not:alwaysremeznber ^wlth equal diatinetoea< the halcyon periods in wbioh
no fateful messengers came to tell wathat the Sabeana, the fire of God, the Ohaldeana, and a great wind from the wilderneaa hare utterly destroy edour deareat hopea, all our ohaneea of earthly bapplneea. I always notioe that when essay writera and' motaliata In general decry the human raoeand holdita weaknesses.np to profound seorn, it ia invariably on the consoling assumption that they (the writera) are exempt from enoh lamentable shortcomings. I avail myself of inch illustrious examples, and openly
may be,.I at least .ahaO alwaya recollect with thankfulness how Heater and Loniae were ocou pled w ith the higher matht matios, and how provi dentially Mrs. Harrowby went away with the Archdeaeonesa to look after' a woman whose husband had sold the blankets, and beaten the children, and torn up the tracts that had been bestowed on him for his conversion, leaving me absolutely to my own 'devices on that special morning when I wanted to pawn my opals. I. gave them a long fond look when I took them out of their oastet, wondering a little sadly when and how I should reoover them .again. But I drove this melancholy'foreboding awav, wrapped them in tissue paper, and pat them in my sealskin portomonnal. along with the £15 I would lend Pick in case the1 pawnbroker declined to advance £150 on my necklace..
Judah"e Mont de Fidtd was at the end of. a long careworn-looking terrace in one of the principal busineaa streets of Melbourne. The msin- entrance was from this street, bnt there was a. small dingy door at. the aide,' open ing on a rather squalid little pS-streel, and over this small and dingy door was Inscribed the legend * Private!" This was no donbt a thought
fal stroke of diplomacy for toe encouragement of those faltering souls who, Uke myself, went shamefacedly to the plaop. My first impulso was to avail myself of the eonceasfon thus so ki .idly provided. But a nearer view of this door m«de me change my mind. It was a door with an incredible amount of freemasonry abont it. It had originally been drab, bnt mnoh use and little cleaning had told severely on its com plexion. It had a large square pane of glaas let in at the top and hong with a little faded green blind, which sras pinned np at one corner. The aspect of sly craftiness which this imparted to the door is indescribable. It seemed not to wink, bnt to leer with a knowing mookery that was appalling. And withal there was an air of patronising fellowship abon't this door as though it would aay," Oome on, yon young spendthrifts, with your dishonoured oheques and your inter minable drafts on the future. I knew ye of old coming with a watch given you by a fond mother, and your dead father's rings, and the sapphire-cross returned by the broken-hearted girl who waa compelled te take baek her troth. Bring them in, bring them in, gather them into the bosom of Abraham; you will come bask again many a time and oft; but your jewels, when will yon redeem them ?" An uncanny kind of a door deoidedly, and not to be entered lightly. I glanoed furtively up and down the street, fearing the approach of some one I knew. Then I abused myself for an abject slave of Mrs. Grundy, and finally I marched in by the front entrance, trying to look as if transactions witha pawnbroker gave the finishing grace to a young lady'a education. The plaoe sras rather dim; it had wide counters running up two sides. Behind one of them atood a short stout youth with oily ringlets and a guileless smile, whose attention sras engrossed by a thin woman in a draggled dress and a tartan shawl talking most volubly. There were tiro or three others stand ing round, evidently waiting their torn. " Til take my davey on it that yer beat give me back that ring," mid the woman shrilly. " Mind, we
ain't under'JSbrew lawsesic Ihla colorny. It's ?gin the British Oonstitootion to ttke n wooman'e weddin'-ring flqss she gives 'enelf— and that yonll find. Why, yon might u well take my marked lines—nofulwonld ears 'II they^WM bnn>t,* tho'; lkeeple'etn In fim-jinlhg oV myrbeeigown,' .jBoikb,vhe'a,,a heaVy-listed loafer if ever there was ontrbnt'I never could ha* believed hewonld aneakawsy with the ring, and me to .think I'd lostritjwfien was i oat wasiun', my firmer beir^'nothibg tospoak of bnt akin and bripe,tbongb)itrwJie that podgy the day 1 married 'im I sc^roe jponldget it oyer the knuckle. And then: to^come, along and see it as hold as brass shinin'inyottr Winder: Oh yes, I knows.it right welli' -Fd'kSow- it/any wheres, not beta* a weddin* ringpaf ill, but3n» only one to be got, as we waslqp tbe Wimrpera a hundred mile from any *ownahip,*ndJerejniab
a fortin' with blaokUgjun*, tral 'pl'andillke A
femyale through it alt", '
At this point of Wri: JliremlahVelt^TiihoB, i door at the baok of the abop was opened) and'» •eeond youth, if possible more guileless'in hie appearance than the first, entered. He gave me a quick scrutinizing look, and- then.oame up* enquiring whether t wished to see 'Mr.iladah. X answered promptly that X did, and he them asked' me to step ttis way, and prededed fne down a loDg ill-lit passage past the "private* entrance to » d Is mall i ttio room a t the end,.into which he nshered me: ; . *.
: " Bit down,' Miss, my father will qpmgjtoyort in a few minntee," he said, and then olosedthe door. How my heart thumped' whfen I jfonnd my self alone in that room: Xt wu dlmly litby' a1 window -which aeemedto beiek oallfeiong. lease to some en terprisingsp idem-that were ari* dentiy making a ,good thing• out -pF it. The only proepeot, it. afforded was a: Jrlgh. blank .wall and .a few.hundredchimneja. The light earns timidly in like a'banhed nreature on' whoee lips - a- '-prioe- ha* been act. Therewss-alarge dttorauetoclt with flguree in relief - in *Uver,.;©u.: a'.dbeolt ground ofebony. quite newi and abini.ogtpbmd* Eng on a^mantelshelf. Ho donbt a pledge iMm aome Impecunious householder. And high abhve the mantelshelf hong a wonderfullybrnstalittlo French eage,gliftontngin bide' andgold.eoutalo inga canary* ona hoopthat ceaselessly swung backwards and forwards. -What made its wing eo frantically withent. ottering ,a single note
And why did those little eyes gutter? ?» nnnatnrslly ? .It was a painted bird in a painted cage. ''What an appalling fancy to' make a sham bird-^a ghastly image of tbe very lncarnation ot life and motion—and set it rotating disinpl)y.ini
a forlorn room I The rightrepelledyet floated yne, end I was still staring at theemaUnbieeleas phantom when the door was opened abruptly,, 'and a.ahort thlok-eet man with* beaked nose, enormous cheeks, and email piercing black eyee,. overhung with long bnshy eyebrows, i e&me in. He bowed and smiled At me encouragingly, has. my heart seemed to sink ..down to.my boots.
"Vot gan 1 do for se young letry?" he . said,, displaying a row of large irregular cttnlvorout looking teeth. ? -y 'l' ??
••van yon—i—yon «na money on jewellery,,
-don't .you P' I gasped, turning hot an d cold by turns. , . . : „ ? > iur ,
MiShe*,shes, on any dines* lie stained, tab bing bis bud* in a gleetal kindof "way. X tremblingly opened my porte mon nil, dnwrsppeds my necklace and banded it-tohim. Bebelllt in hi* fat grimy'hand* and looked at the glow ing iridescent atones witharavenous bind at tok. - • ? 1, • • , , ?? (. . • ,;t,
"Zbn vant bow moaohj^ be naked, winning, my faoe: with his suspicions lit tie eye*. .*,
It aoohded eohorribly like aelllng themi
? "I 'require' £160, and -offer yon tbe 'opal* an security, I answered with a* mnch determina tion a* I could convey.
He gave a low long, whiitie and promptly
handed me the necklaoe. ''
"Imboaaible zat l eoot gif ao mooch," he replied. " Vat do yon dinks I .coot get for dsns venyondon't reteem?"
"I know they are worth £400. and pf-boorfe X ?hall redeem them in a short time," I answered* with indignant emphasis. ' ' - J.
" Or gorz, or gore, my yonbg lety, eferybDdy reteekna eferydingi, sat i*'drae,nnd so ooine* lb sat my whole house -isvool.o* dings sat. g git money lor sat I gannot get again; no. Defer."
"Ob, if.yon cannot advance what I,want I need not Wespas* farther ooy onr time^Ieaid, rising and holding oat my hand for my opals. There vu snoh a horror in the prospect of leaving my beautiful necklace in the;hands .of thia rapaclcna old man that for the moment: I -felt almost glad, at ,the thopght ofpaking it ' " I gan advance vori ill3 at. dl#y ibtllings w week interest till yod reteemtherieeklSoe,* he saidquickly, holding tbd opals in tbe light agiin. M Ho vane gan do fairer tot yon; auid Z gan aaanreyon I do it btg%iwejpn are von young lety in tiaSreaa. YoQCcfer hava bawned nodinge befoSno?" V 1
"Thirty shillings nyreOkinterest."' t itled to reckon what rate of percentage this was, bafc. my arithmetic was too vague and my agitation too great to make any my precise oak illation*. I conld only be sore tbst it wm moat slnfph
nanry.
"lethal the proper emerge?" I asked. W as severe, a tone u I oonldaiaumo.' »
" Assy dings lower would slmbly rain me,"' replied Jadab with nah solemn pttbao that for m moment staggered me, and mode jaje wonder whether I was not robblugthia cgiaritghle aim of Israel of his daily biead. Bat • glanoe at the vulture-like way in which helooksd frbhk me to my opals was enough to dispelthls childish, delusion. Bat I refleoted that !Jobo Harrowby had spoken of this man as a " respectable pawn broker." Of what use weald it be togo wander ing abont from one planderer to another only tb< soond the depths of pawnbroki eg greed ? And how could 1 bear a suooesslon of each interviews with tbe possibility that I might after all fare worse?'
"Zbn will take datamonncUahes V he said In. an insinuating tone.
I faintly murmured" yes," and he went at once to a chiffonnier that was in the room, un locked it, and took out a masslve-lookrogtaoney box, which be pressed at the side oh 6 particular ?pot, and the lid flew open. He took ont little. bundles of Bank notes, whioh he smoolbedond counted oat with a tremuloos kind of teqder ness. What a sinful world-weary existence many of tbem most have led! They were so soiled, so battered, so altogether disreputable, and departed from the parity of their yoath. It was easy to see that they hadb seldom been within sound of a Ohurob-goinz bell; that they were privy to felony, and had been seasoned by topers in grimy pnbllo-honaes,
" Vor how long do ydn'bledge the obals?*' '
I had not the remotest guess how long it might be before my necklsoe would be restored to me. Bat I could hot -bear the thooghk of consigning tbem to Jndsb for. an indefinite period, so I said " for a month," and then ho took a iquare reddish tioket, inscribed a number on it, and handed It to me, and I counted over the notes of valne,ranging from one to twenty pohnde.
"A huntret and dirteen bounds; and now will yon blease bay the indoreat for four weeks. Zat will be eixch bounds."
I returned him siz of the most hardened looking sinners, and placed the rest In my porte- - monnai. I feel ashamed to confess it,' bat as I gave a last lingering look st my opals tbe'earn came into my eyes. . There they lay in all their
-sparkling yet soft elusive brilliancy, seeming to 'remonstrate with me for leaving them in snob *n uncongenial atmosphere.
1 WasgladtObeout once more in the bright warm aonshine, end the fresh invigorating air •way from tbe misty atmosphere of that olose dim back room, with its glass-eyed little sham nanary. " I . reached' the rendesvoos in the ?Gardens a little before'the appointed time, bat OicV was there before the, looking moretniaerable, ?ffposslble, 'thin be bad done ontheprevloas 'day: -''It somehow seemed es unnatural to see Dick, unhappy and haggard as it would he for a joyous child. ?'!'Could not bear to keep him in feuspdnib one moment longer*
" Dick, I have got the money for yon," I saidjahd, then and there I polled out the 'bandle of no'tes Judahhad advanced, and with lt'the>£2BV'my Own mosey. Disk stood quite •till,'hie face'flashing a deep red ail over it.
•'Nellie, darlint, where did yon get this?" 4e^h«id,;in a slow pained voice which tent a
pan'gthrough my heart
, ", Ob, I robbed a Bank—yon would be anrprlsed to see-how civilly they allowedme to present a pistol and lake my pick of their notes. Quite an opening for yonug women in want of em ployment." Dick smiled, and when I aaw him took a littlp like bis pld self I rewarded him by telling the tinth— thp whole, tintb, and nothing 4>nt the trptb.
: "Bufcwhy did yon go, Nell, it is bad enough ?to takeyonr beautiful opals to a pawnbroker, bat ?that yon should go to snob a plsoe by yourself—
-and for me."
" Oh, Diok," I said, " it was such fan. Do .you'kcowjl think Jt is: very'stupid only seeing people who read the same books, and wear the -same kind of dresses, and apeak the same kind
?of grammar as oneself ;" and then I went on.co < teUDhk jot the slatternly woman whose has bind bad pawned her ring. I could seethe comical element in it now far more than I did
the time. I.fear I imposed upon Diek, and • -that he realty believed I enjoyba going to the pawnbroker's.
"Bat Diek, there are only £132 here, oan you"
" Yes, fell, ot course t can matte op ens rest hut to think that you shoald have done this .(ot me. Ob.Nell, I can't bear to stf just 'thank .yon,' as I mold if yon passed me the salt."
' Sick clasped my hand in bis, with a peroept ebie'meistareln his eyes. We had wandered 'down by the little creek that babbles through the garden, and stoodnow beneath a laCge mag •molia-tree, and while Dick held my band in 'speechless grstitude, who should pass within a ?few. yards of na but John Harrowby! He looktd from me to Dick, and from Dick back to me again with Wh expression of cold and haughty runszement. that made my cheeks tiogle. I gave him a frigid little bow, to which he re sponded with astern punctiliousness, and went: •on his way, towards home evidently. -
" Hell, ban that masterfol-looking yonng man any right to look at yon withenoh an air of out Tsged 'ownership f" asked Diok.
1 ^Ob; that's John Harrowby," I .answered •with studied indifference, and then a comical look eame into . Dick's face which I did not -quite understand.
' "Then ( suppose you're fsst friends again— you and be?"
" Ves, moderately - but Diok, I'm afraid I
annst make haste borne."
"But, Hell, you'll be sure to tell John that: I'm your sisters (rweetheart—end whatever else ;you may think S fcf wou't tni nd hlaknowing about: any scrape, tot though hp looked very black at. •me 1 like hisfapb:"-? !
" Dic^^ypu~mfepn that Tm to cry « peeeavi'
to John Harr&trKy.phd tell hioi about your;: affairs because be saw me talking to you, why
youVe msklnga mighfy error," I said warmly.:. I don't know whiphyexed me most, John's ,im
ipertinenoeor Dick's quizrioal smiles. . There Is. no doubt-that-ft the Xord had ;"not made men <the chief source of discipline in a woman's life
would be lost.
" Oome, oome how^ my own gtdd little sister,: •don't be cross with me whatever happens. It's mo'ose toy ttying to say -bow I feel "what you havedpne fdr'tne, Ndl. . rm jatt lholdPash's tpligbt. Yp rpmenpbef ho'w 'after be told us reboot the harps andtbepUms, and had pnmpsd.
•himself dry, he gave a little eoogh as thongh a -dromb stnok lu hlsthroat, ana said, f But my %rethren; we won't enlarge upon that.'"
I would certainly- have been much happier
.going home if that chance rencontre with John. Jituvowby bad cot taken place. Should! not -after all tell him the proposed relatiooahip in which Dfaskstoodto mef Heoame hPme that
afternoon rather earlier than usual, and I was - !*nhdyet to' find that I awaited his entrance Into. -theldfifrring-raom with a- fast beatingheart. -** Jest as if I were afraid of him," I -said to my Kett Scornfully. There were only Louise and ; anykelf ifh the room. Hetty had gone with her
: '? abofbertoa Doroas meeting.
'" vc..»«<Well, ^Jack, Jon are-rally getting Into
' -dvlifxedhablts again—coming borne at halFpat - Ionise, looking up from ber book.-;
I was sitting on a low ohalr' in the bay-win*. «dbw,? -partially hidden' by the ample- tripestry
? «urtaina.
' *fa Mellie at home ?" asked John abruptly: :
" ?'I'll go end' aee," anawefed- teniae gravely,
•nlthongh she knew perfect^ well where -I waa. "*If she's not we had better invent a town
' -erl^r. lost or .'strayed- oh yea, oh yee-^ " ; Helm Maxwell Derweht, when - last teen, - <afraye!d.-in brown eyes and a' peaoook-blufe
-^aiahiiiere,'" 'and with thatshe- left the room. - ' '? Xhuiee,wateplte her mathematics and ancient' ? .-tlttaadtges, had a eploe of wiekednesa that ' was ?
'always more pronounced fn hersister's abas nee.
<fhV| WO IgTUUICU mo ffltu ? ""'Ht WBWtVUiUg
r^uet4bder Whl6hI grew hot and nheoinfort ' 'wble^ jutd doggedly obstinate in my Inner heart.
!*IOntwaidlyI walrcalm, engaged in crewel-work,
fihlsbihg 'the hewt of one of a Series of golden
tau^ilowersa on. paUttilae Kbmii eatin; oonoh
. "tieVhJm thlnk wbtt be likes, 1° shall voldn
'teerboigdanattmi^' I aaytp mytslf, thtojdlnjg
' VftojoiiiealIy tore jotirtelf ¥way—got tome •af'eraU)"'hea ya, bending slightly towarda me.' ... .."TOf, did yon expeot that Z Would be
r hyraUowed by n caas' "
-<• ~ otabwuy, like the missionary
:/<>f' Timhuctoo f* 1 ask, lust raising my ejes to lilsfaot, . ' " " ?
!' 'He tugged at Ms monstaehe, got np and
.y»allje(3_ across the' room, came hack and stood
near mewith folded arms. 1
' "Do 'jfrar pasfehta "know of this affair?" he eatedln aleaa saturnine tone."
... *' What aflsir, pray P" t asked with an aooent
?pfexbemeiatoDlshmeDt.
?; ?; wOh, of oodrae,yon do not know what liefer
to" lie answered quietly.
"^Why. 'do ybn mean my having worked the .frog's leg out of drawing on kny last piece of
orewel?" '"
?' ."Good hfeaVens! how exasperating a girl can t>s,"he;sald vehemently.
„ r Then he plaoed his hand over iny work,
. toning me toiobk np':
"IfeJi, who'Wat that'yon were talking to is ' Fitxroy Garden?"
'' ' "A/lrlend from Hsmlington—DIok Fitz
gibbon."
"Ahl and does my mother know? Haveyon
told her?""
' "Ho; ahe haa not been in alnee I returnjd
sod if die were I don't think it is necessary to mention every one I may happen to meet.".
. "Happen to meet! Do yon mean tossy that yon did not meet that fellow—the Fitzgibbon by appointment ?"
I waa thoroughly angered by the tone of thia 'qneation.
"I decline .to answer you,*.. I answered, And •wept oat of the room with imperial dignity. As I am not. verytall.Iwas very glad I.bad.a trained dress on. wbieh I notice always lends' a certain distinction when one leaves p room in wrath. Bat this air of dignity did not prevent me0 from being thoroughly vexed with myself for not being more amiable. And then I dis covered that I had half expected John to oak ma in the old cordial manner, wbioh bad lately been revived, " Who waa the friend yon met this morning, Nell ?" and that I waa to have told him in ^confidence that it waa Dick, Bessie's future fianbe, when father was robaat enough to bear the ahock of finding that his daughter wished to be engaged to a man whoae wealth waa comprised in a £100 a year, and an aesthetic tta-cosy. I foand that we would be much tickled by this; that John wonld then aak for Dick's address, call on him, and bring him to the bonne as en old Bamlington friend. Of course, I wonld not dare to refer to the fatnre connection, ti'l we heard from Bess that Dick's •nit was favoured by her parents. "It might all have been so different," I said to myself pathetically, as if the history of endlesa prooes sfons of - ancient and modern nations were not written to show that men invariably fail to take the coarse they ehonld pnrsue.
Nor were my troubles over, for that day. As we were at dinner Mrs. Harrowby, who alwaya heard dreadfal tales of human depravity when she went out on missions of benevolenoe with the Arcbdeaoones8, reeoanted a thrilling story
of a burglary ]in a friend's honse,-whioh was ; supposed to hive been effected with the conni vance of one of ibe housemaids.
" It made me feel that we are not haii-oarerui
enough In looking up, my dear," she (aid to the ' Professor, who looked up with a slightly scared
expression, as if he feared that the wife of his bosom proposed to oonnt him and wrap him up in chamois with the silver spoons. As he was proBeoutingan exhaustive pursuit of a root that had viciously broken out in Sanskrit and the Chaldean tongue in totally different meanings, such a proceeding woald have been disastrous. Of course, a moment's reflection showed him
ihat there wsstno accommodation for him in the pantry; eo he'emiled vaguely, and said—
" Well, my love, shall we get more locks ?'
"I decline to give up my latchkey, mother,'* ?aid John, who held by that hard-won insignia of hit liberty es tenaciously aa the Barons clung to Magna Charts. Mrs. Harrowby had learned that though a husband may be trained to play the part of a Greek chorus in the domeBtio economy, it does not always. follow a son will inherit the gift of submission. So she deigned no reply, to this demonstration of ohronio insu bordination, but fiiing her gaze on me said—
"Helen, yon bad better give me yonr opals to look spin my jewel oase; you have a careless, habit of leaving yonr things abpnt. The other day I went into your room, and saw a quantity of silver lying loose oh yonr toilet table." .
If Mrs. Harro wby had not been a woman of the, moat implacable resolution, I wonld have .assured her .that I kept my opals looked in their casket in the innermost reoesses of a trunk herme'ically sealed,or mnrmur some indefinite excuse. Bnt I knew too. well that whatever it was possible for me to: esy wonld straightway strengthen her in the conviction that it was a sacred duty to take charge of my jewels at onoe, : and that,as soon as dinner was over she wonld straightway. march ms .into my room, to give" them to her. . Strong as the temptation might be to a-different course, honesty «r*s now the only possible policy. Bo with something of the ^celmnSsohf despair Z replied—
"Thank yon very muoh, Mrs, Hsrrowby; but 1 have not gptimy opals in tbehou»ejtut now." I felt' myself; turning into, atone, under the glance withwbich lbs Harrowby regarded me.' : ( " Ton have not got them in the.noose," she answered slowly, with, a little gasp. ^ Tfaen,. pray.iwberearethey F
.: i A terrible eilenoe fell on the room. I looked up helplessly to meet John's keen, enqairing eyes foil on gny.faoe. It is said that iaablon able doctors have the medloal accomplishment of .looking grave whatever nonsense is talked to them. I fancy lawyers have a faculty, for sus pecting villany when any little .mystery, crops np. .2 felt my faoe reddening horribly as I replied—.
flhey.are quite safe, but if. you will exonae me, Mrs..Harrowhy, I would rather hot explain why I haven't got my opals just now."
OHAPTKR 17.
Two days afterwards I got • letter from Diek that somewhat consoled me for the dhgrac* which hong over me for my mining opals.
" My d ear Nell.—No penhasyet been Invented that conld express the1 feelings of gratitude Which fill my heart for the deliver »no# you Wrought for me. Never shall I forget last Wed nesday morning. ImStyba with a miserable oon yictioh that tbe Day of Jndgment had come, and
that'I was tbefiratarfmlnalto be judged. . ;? To-day aWheqne of Harry Ruin's oame in for
£86. Ton (din imagine bow thankful I am that. sill has beenartanged. 'Indeed, if aeems as if 'my gratitude is too' great^-aa if I oonld not re ' cover from it. Bat think of your deiti
tote'condition,'and tbat helps me to toooh the ground-again. I knowthat at boon, as ever
Hsmiltontecovera he willadvanoe the money to. me onreasonable •terma, and then I can get
aT— your "lovely opals book from (hat old rascal
not that I sboold abuse him. Bat what I want yon to tell me, Nell, is, have yob enough' money to go on with? I know the mirncnlons way in which a woman can; go throogh -a week with dignity, and epend prthaps only threepence. Bat have yon the
threepence ? Tou wonld ccnfer a great favour' ota me by stating the real state of your finsnort' Ton can btvenoconoeptionof the manner in '•which ', t" "km saving , money. The"''way I m'snsge it' ia this: — I take -every, morning "one shilling and sixpenee for my.,
lurch — not another soni. ? 1 Billiards; are
cinders and aahea to me; as forbeer, I nevef, tasted it for a week tlll-yeaterday, and then it: was older-^the day beltag sohot. The only re deeming little1 VieeT' cling to 'Is a smoke now and tben. Andtbeic is nothing like a pipe to
console a man In s&toHbn Faith'—not that I'm: vfflietrd thohgh^ can hardly explain It to yon, Nell, hnt there isaeertaln desolation in saving money sb ferociously. However, I mean to per •evere,-vindeo yon see, my dear girl, I am qaite ' in a position to be ysnr banker."
But! decided that I oonld manage "without trenching on Dick's hardly saved store. ' I nould not .help beingsorry that he had to be so pain fu'ly economical. It might be pleasant to. be
stingy If one oonld lire longenough. Bntthsra : 'is a certain wastefulness about hoarding-np J money when yon may never have the pleasnreof spending it. I used to think Bees and myself managed witha very moderate allowance. But
on reflcctlbn I fonnd* that mother most 'have i p&ld for nearly til oak -dreams, and any girl knows that this la a considerable Item in her expenditure. It wsa when I found all s;y re uniting money melt away on trifles light aa'air that this fact was forced on my reoolleotion. In
three weeks I found that thirty-seven shilling!1 bad been frittered away with very little to show. lor.the money.' I took a pocket-book and pencil: aid began to make w eolemn entry ofaill could. i en-ember. A feeling of intense virtue suffused: my frame, but nevertheless.I could: not get on with the list-. Collection three Sundays, three sbiliibge; Marabout ffathers for white toque, six teen shillings; a beggar with'ode leg, tivo ahil iingc. There was a slight tiige of regret in my. miLd abont this entry. John had Bsserted that' all beggars in Melbourne were impoetets.. " Bat! the man with the one leg Who plays a- barrel-: organ, be is not an impostor," 1 had Bald. "Oh, yea he, is, the other leg is doubled op in his! ppcbet." I did not believe this at the time, bat now whi n 1 regretted to find my money fading away like last year's roses, H'.oconrred.to, me: that John might be right. -Where was the rest .of the thirty-seven shillings? I raked my memory in vain to answer this.question. The' npsbot was that I bad to be extremely saving, not only bad 1 to think twice before spending a shilling, bat 1 bad to think twioe, and theii not ipend it. As I had not from the fin: allowed Mrs. Harrowby to bear the cost of my. amuse ments 1 had now to make excuses, and steadily decline going to the theatre, opera, or even oon
certs. , .
"Is it that yon are turning aerions? aaid Louise'in an awestruck tone, one night when they were jgoingto the opera, and I, aa waa .be aoming my wont, atayed at home. -
" Who knowa VI answered laughingly. And, .indeed,! began to enjoy having so mush time, to myself for reaoing. There are So many delight
ful old end new books that one should'read and meditate over—not once,'(rat a great many times. As Hadame de 66vign6 arid—" It is to the interest of those :I talk-to that I should read beautiful books.", So- I read "Seven Lamna of Arthiteoture" for an hour and morel
and then I bethought me of apieoe of work I had to'do—the trimming of a "hat, Sol took it into the drawing-room and eet to Work/ I had a yard and a half of white eilk ganae, some pale blue sarcenet eilk. to line the wide brlm.afew ears of corn and a scarlet poppy with which to drape the unadorned nakedness of theatraw. Who, without trying it, could believe that to looai i j twist a length of ganze round the crown, and catch the eilk op at the aide with a flower in a graceful manner, was almost beyond one's highest skill? Ifound it hard to believe I had been brought up.a Christian, as time after time I pricked my fingers, and puckered the gauze. In the midst of tbia who should come in but John. Sometimes when he was more than ordinarily bUBy he did tot come home to din ner, and wonld perhaps be not seen by the family till breakfast time next morning. On this evening be had not been home to dinner, and it was nearly 10 when he came in Ever since ibe.pBssageat arms I have recorded we had been coldly civil to each other, and that was all.
"I suppose the rest are at the opera," he said, after a formal salutation had been ex changed.
" V tt," I answered, .fixing my slight, foolish flower on the side of the hat.
" Why didn't yon go with them f
" I'm not sure tbat 1 am Very fond of operas, especially * The Grand Duchess.'"
" So you stay at home a la Cinderella and trim a bat for .a few orphans—of coarse that thing most be meant for more than one."
I think a man reaches the maximum of his bdionsuess. when he stands in the Briton's ty pleal attitude With his book to the fireplace, smilingat one's hat, and calling ft" that thing."
" You'ate mit.taken." 1 answered gravely. " It Jsicot for an orpbapaeylam, but for a family.
The father, weua it and goes first, all the reat | follow-'in bis wake and tire' completely pro
tected."
" In that ease I mnat sea whether it ia adapted for a masculine head.? He took my hat, and with the deftness peculiar to bis eex he put it.on baek to front. It wis too ladicrous. The sight of bis big moustache and brown faea under,thie flowing ganze and. delicate bine eilk .completely onset my gravity. I burst into a peal of laughter, In which heyoined, then return -ing my fast, he said—
? >»• Are you sure it ia .beeauae yon are getting I . indifferent to the pomps and vanities, of this life
that you stayed at borne to-night?"
It is easy to'make a lofty anddlgnified ex cuse when you pre very indignant; but if an ancient feeling of kindness stirs the neart it is more difficult.
" Well perhaps not altogether," I replied, holding " that thing" at arm's length to decide whether tbe poppy was not too far to the baok.
*» Yob are very. mysterious of' late,, Nellie/' said John, sitting on an ottoman .at my . aide, and speaking more in his old tone than 'be had done for e long time. _ ; i 1
" We need to: he very good friends at one time. So yon remember when I wept do.wp to flamlington three y ears ago, j ust before I went to England?" he went on, lowering, his voice as if he weregolng to tell e secret., ,
"Tee, of course, when you were "so proud because the tips of your monstaehe When pulled very hard reached your ears.";
"Ah, little slanderer, b that all you re member about my visit f .
"Ob, no. I reeoUeet very well'how yon took me out rldee on JUI and.taught me to.jump brush fei>oes,to the utter ruin of my riding skirt. And one Sunday yon gave me snuff in church; spd when I took a tiny pinohT had to keep my face burled in my handkerchief for fear of sneezing. - The Bev. Nioodemps was preaching one of bis periodical sermons on the bottomless pit, and the.next tlmelmet him he said, "My dear.Helen, .it'.gave me athrfll (of pleasure to "see now deeply affected yon were iset Bnndsy; snob tears are a sign of grace! * j
"Yea," rejoined John, laughing, ? and'do'you remember the day I went with you to: Sunday School,'and Mrs. Asbgrove insisted ou. my taking a clsas ? There >1 fonnd myself with right little beggars, punching each other on. the sly. and then staring blankly in my'face. I knew I ought to tell them about Adam or Jonah, or tome old patriarch; but I felt ewfnlly mixed'op;. I could not be sure what were the proper Anecdotes, to ttok to the noises." fit last I said.,* Wholes ittbat went info, the lions' den?' I here, was a perfect ,ppioar.' ?fibeJ.Blr.' *No; pjeaie Sir it were jnsboa end the ten apici.' ' •lt'wiirn't, it Were
the ten tribes of Jadsh.' ' It Was Noah and bis -seven wives.' - find then they began to quarrel over-it, sod give f«oh otherfinrtivp. kicks. just like grown-up Christians— ,
? ''Fighting .each ptherforconolljation
Asa he'lng eaph other for the love of 'God."
find there I sat cdnfnsed and helpless." There ' were so many prrsont who tmight havebeen the
victim that! eohldnot be tore vrholt really -was.- find the Httb imps were making such a - noiieevery one intheecfapol waa loakingatins. fit last, :in despair, I told .them*..about the ' House .(bat Jack Built.' Next week ah 'Irate mother Complained to the Superintendent. She said she sent her children to Sunday School to learn' hjmns and Pharisees (she . meant para phrases), and not worldly rhymes." ...
We both laoghed heartily/and then John said rather abruptly, " Do yDU remember tbe morning I left?"' My heart gave a sudden leap. I did remember jt—perbapsr too well—but all things considered I dld pot see that John should hting it np. •
"Yes; you left" early in the. morning, didn't yon?"' I said carelessly, bending over my hat, , and stitching in the lsst ear of wheat.
'" A" little after sixbtit "early u it wa» a certain young lad; tu up to give me yome bieakfast. What delicious coffee, it wm to be sure. 'I track tbrte oopaof It ;before,Ifinished the'.bird the Jbui g lad; looked at the clock aiib a little cry. '
•"Ob Jack i'^ahe celled .me Jack In those days) 'jco meet leavirin fobf minutes. Thij co cb l*cai a 'Aaron's corner at ten minntea put six.' With that she handed memy gloves Una8
&y face was getting:intoleiwbly-hot.t, ,
"How absurd to;recall such triflja,"^. Isaid, mrkii g a desperate,attejnpt to, cat snort these riminUctnees. "j ?
" Trifles! eb. bot wait till I tell yon all! Thi> charming young. lady gave me. ioj gloves, and' bade me pat'on-my greatcoat' (it was a oold winter's morning), and then I was quite ready to go- but oh how loath. You must plctare to yourself that the breakfaat-room was warm and; cosy, with a great fire of split fragrant' black wood crackling in the wide chimney, and that tbe young lady—she was just seventeen if ! remember rightly—had tbe brightest eyes, the. sanciest smile, and anoh roses in her cheeka.' 1 believe 1 can even describe her dress. It wss a lovely soft bine—a morning gown, jroa know, with a delicious little white fur collar and cuffs. Her fair hair had been hurriedly wound up, and as she flitted about a benevolently-disposed old bairpin slipped ant,of its place in that un obtrusive way. in which true oharity is .always performed, and there the thick soft fair hair fell, over her shoulders in beantifnl ripjplipg waves. ' Oh, Nell, why didn't.you wear your, hair like this before (her name wot Nellie,by-"tbe-way— onrious coincidence, isn't itf) You : musk pioture to yourself that;tbe caret ofthis world and tbe deceitfulhess of' the law' bad not then taken bold of me, and that I was the fdlow who in all the world least'liked going away from this yoong lady. 'Never1 mind my hair.jou really
mutt go.' • It's *11 verywell for you Who see. jonr bair like the every day tony "never mind it." Did- yon keep it: as ? surprise: to the lut moment?' 'Ob yon goose; mostl drive yon outnfthehouae? Be&lly,. Jaok, good-fay,' she •aid, giving me bet two soft, little warm hands,' ' I 8Qppoee I'll not see yon for a woful long while,' I said,' unable to take my. eyee1 off her bair. Bbe came a little nearer, with a beautiful moistnre in her bright ..egee, and. thenl drew her still a little closer, stooped down, and"
"ton t$ll the etory nicely; no dionbt yon have bad practice in relating it," I- aald, half choked with contending emotions. ?
"Nellie, yon should not say that," retnrned
John in a snbdued kind of - tone. "11 I have : vexed j on I em sorry, bat that parting has come np in my mind eo often of late, and— Well, at least after being anob good friends at one time, and cousins always, I think yon might bf a little more open ^rith me. I don't want to force yonr confidence. Of bonne I saw at a glance the relations between yon and the gentle man yon were talking to in Fitxroy Gardens"
here John paused, and though in,my heart I wonld have been glad to disabuse him,of his mistake, two or three contending emotions sealed my 1 ps.' Perhaps the most potent of
these influences was the half bitter thought that. as John himself had been engaged without even : writingany of usaifrlendlynote on the matterj, be would more readily believe that I eould adept the same bourse, and;of oourse eventually he
must know the truth.
" Whatl want, to say," he went on, I'll that if I can do anything for you I shall b» very glad.
It strikes me that you nave not been in smooth'
water of late."
*> Thank you very mush,7,1 replied, hesitating whether I Should say spy more. . '?
" oh, confonnd.it," broke in John impatiently. "I beg your pardon,^Nellie, but if you' don't
give me any bread, don't offer mb'a stone. That conventional 'lhankyon very mush,' is
too absurd. It WotilQ be far less aggravating to. hear you say, * Please, mind ynnr own business.'"
There was a ring at.tbe gate, aod the entrance ? of tbe family saved any further altercation.
"Tbe mail is in, Hell," said Hester. "I suppose yonTliget yoac letters :to.morrow."
Mrs. Hartowby looked at me and then at John' in an enquiring sort, of .way.
"I suppose yoQ were too busy, toopme to the' opera, John," aheaaid, slowly drawing off her glovis. ..•*•• • , ?';
"Tis, and that, woman howls at you so when she is dying. I cant stand'jrer."
"What woman^ .No woman dies hi*The Grand Duchess.' * ''
"NoV-'I neyer.gou the opera without seeing some woman in laws and jewels dying gracefully in time to the mdtic, or a'foolof a tenor in
black- velvet lamwsihsted Undercover of the
ophicleide and big drum—only ^unfortunately be never: fs really stabbed* ,M .
"Miss Vandome was there to-night wlihher mother.- That girl: really seems to grow handsomer every day," Said Mrs. Harrowby, calnJy 'ignoring herwont bad temper.
I gave an .involuntary glance at John, be was looking straight at me. It may seem carious, bnt tbe ndehtion of bis ci-detant jiantit made me feel pleased that I had' not taken him into my confidence, as I had felt tempted to do.
CHAPTER V.
WHAT CA1EB 07 IT.
I got try letters next morning atbrbakfsat— • delightiol batch, t f orgot sli my troubles, my pawned opals, DlekYiiiareabed poverty, sad my own destitute ooaditieu,1- while Voiding
them. Host of Bessie's letter3w»* d&roted to Dick; bow she loved blm.if possible, mare than ever, bow desr the old tlmes>fn»Ffatriling ton seethed to leok bSck upon, how:Sht was w iting a journal, and meant toperseVere to the etd, though jokes and sights always ajemed • little stupider after , writing about them; and most important. of all, bow nsotberjuid father knew of this attachment between Dick and her self, end were not—oh, not hidf'pounds* as we feared. "Ismafraidyou*U,hava,towaftalong time, Bess,' before piok'a, ship pomes in," the pater said to meqnite kindly. Bat I know Dick will be very economical no w.and we'll be able to manage quite well on USSOp a year to begin with, fcc. I feel thsckful that I had been able to serve Dlokao effectually. What a blow it would be for Bessie if be bad loat hia position in tbe Bank! - But the afternoon port brought an invitation to me toeommohwith the rest of tbe fsmily/'Wbieh Changed the'oomplexlon of my tbongbis from gratitude to reseat. An in vitation to « grta t ball.gi ven by.the Qraotleys
prior to leaving,fur (.trip tojpbpa' Now a j bsll at Grantlej'a was quite amevent in Mel
bourne society,;. From the moment you drove i in at tbe gate and up the immense blue-gum avenue, 1 it wi th .glorious, 1 ighta, thatlooked like globed pleeesicf vivid atarUght ; and'heard tbe soft musical rippling of innumerableJronotaiiia, it was like a brief aojourn in ah enchanted land. Instead df'theheavy splendour'of obatllness that one ao often Anus oppressive in the our lonndinga ot the wovsaec riehet, enefound an ctherealized kind of beaaty, wUoh seemed in no way associated with material wealth. Natur ally all Melbourne was eager for Invitations. Those who were disappointed at once remem beted that Mral Grantley waa tbe daughter of an Irish labourer, "a man who broke atonea, my dear, for seven at eight shillings. The mother took iq washing, and Mrs.. Grantley nod her sister no dduht helped." ."And where is tbe sister now?? POh. she married one of those millionaire Amerioans—they live in Paris in tbe utmost magnificence—not that t suppose for
a moment they tte received by the very beet focitty there." Shis supposition wai mere roslire. Tke American millionaire's unlimited
coupled aith'his ? wife's beauty, her enpieoe tact and unerring taste,bad opened to lib m'the most exclutiverepreeentatives ofiiba ' ancient Fabourg 8t> Gertnain. it tne there; no dout.t.-Wre Grantley hsd learned the rare secret of giving a bell that warlike • page oat of the •• Arabian Nights " But ignite apart froin this divine gift, I HkedMrs Grantiey immensely. She was to witty and vivacious, and'yet withal (I ere was a grave depth In her beautiful Iritb eyes that made one feel she was never afebamed to. remember the old. homely days when ber father delved and her mother (pan — or wathed, which, after all, is much the same.
" 01 course yon will go, Nell," said Louise, atd without waiting for an answer she honied away with a portfolio under her arm to take drawings of the anoient gods.
" Of coarse I can do nothing of the kind," I thought bitterly. For a moment a vision roso op before me of myself in shining raiment, with my opals gleaming in their marvellous way round my throat, and John coming hp to claim the first" waits, and then" I returned to proaalo reality and reminded mjeelt that my opals were pawned, my purse all but empty, and that wj
btj
last evening dress was shabby beyond redemp
tion. ' Though outwardly I shed no tears,' 1 felt that kind of inward chill which has all the melancholy, of .weeping- without Its pathos. Then'Igrew uhamed bf myself 7 I remembered how many things'there were that should weigh on my mind more than the foot of being aeiaMe to go to a ball. X reflected bow high the per centage ' of paupers, lunatics, end criminals Is ell over the oivilized world—how short wrid fleeting life is, how one should strive after goodness, ahd try to Improve the time.
Ihe result of nllthls moralizing m to leave a generaT flatness, which induced the feeling that after all. nothing mattered ao very much. Under theae circumstances one may imagine my ipy at.'getting a note from; Diok by the after noon pest'saying:—'"My 'dear 'Jfell—By-Wis morning's mail I received a letter from my great aont eneloaing a draft for £800. Ait fasts merciful Providence haa pat it into her'lieAt that a fellow cannot go on eziating indefinitely en nothing, that it ia possible be may.'nojt be vowtd to celibacy' and that tailors have a superstitions habit of looking for payment. *1 never tbonght I sboold be ao glad to get mooejr. Dear girl, let me go with yon to-morrow to redeem your opals. I shall be at the corner of
street at halfput 8 precisely.
I waa only too happy to obey. Poor old Diok looked quite himself again.
H Do y on know,.my dear girl, I was beginning to be quite sceptical aa to the very existence of bappineaa," he said, aa we walked onto JadaHV
Furies, witohcraft, bappineaa,' I used tq say to myself, repeating a melancholy little lltapy of the belief of early days; bnt now begad I feel that misery is nothing bnt a disease; the,worst form of any, because', yon see, hiviog it once'or twice is no manner of protection against thp old bsggegeegain." '
"Do yon remember, whit Heine'saya:t^briat the matter, Dirk ?"
" Das GlUCkistllnefslchte Dime,
Upd blelbtnlobtlaw am hdber art,
" 8is StreichtQaihaar Dlr yon die 8ttrna."
? UndknsstDfcknfhifadfltltettforl .,-:e
"Fran tTnglCok bat hmGegentluile,. ? ' v,
Dkk ilebefast ana Bern rsdrdokt— ' file mi h&be Jcoloo JSlZsu
Eltst sichzu Dlr ans Bett dndtfilckt."
" Comet .now,, Nell;'• don't be .'after giving yonrtelf a acre, throat, ,but put ,it into decent .Christian words.. Although J understand? das' and' '.Bio,' the rat of .the meaning it a, Jjittlo
vagoe." "?
"Bnt .lt la ;ao hard bo translate, 'Diok ; fhe neareetj.eapget to the liist verse It
" Jortasmalilan bee si air, ?. .
-ifkqdoes not long in oas place stay,.
Bhe fromthy forehead smoothes the bur—
ojuitlieiVklM had fUti'k^.":'''"-; "-i >
. ^JThe hthierJ vera^cteaes^me; 'fee h^gl^of clasps theeIpringljf' to^ier heart.; -Shenian the
la in no hurry, slta down by thy bed and kbit*:?!" ' . ?'
" Faith, the old hanldaD turned the JiOffof hrr stocking well before she left me thi* time,"
'said Dick.. ' 1
Thus laughing and talking we reaobtidlha Mont 'do Piete. "We both thought?ndah'tboked a litUn dejected when.Diok produoed the ticket and explained that be hid'oomo toredoimjny
opals.
• . Bqw delighted I was to see them onoeagain. Theyblu'shed and smiled, and grew red and
and gre^and fleetiDgsearlet cuTbSsniaeivwi^st
of'old. .It was delightful to, fold them "up tenderly and put them ihjbo my pcetemonnai once more But a terrible'thing happened' aa we were going out. ? Just as Judah was epMjtog the side door for as, one of the assistant*'muio up'the gloomy damage—into .which tbe aide door opened—ushering two ladies and a gentle manlntci theaitting-room we had left. It .waa John followed by hla mother and rim Aroh
deaconnen'. The two ladies were talking, arid a few pace* behind. John with a glanoe took it all in; be looked-from Pick to me without a sign of " recognition, Hben- stepped book and stood faeing the ladies, asking some questions, and barring the way till we wept oat.
It was all over,' and arranged . in the moit satisfactory fashion, and pet all. through I bad not been to exquisitely Uncomfortable as I felt when John^eame into dinner that.. wenlng. He was behind time,and asheaai domi he made acmebrief apology forbeing.late.: Hesat just opposite to me, .but die worse .onoe.aUo*ed his eje to wander Jn, my. diiecfiqp., Ahattrb at it may seem, ah overwhelming sense dfcOfalasioo fell on me, whpn.'ba I eat mere, XTalW realised the eqnlvotal light intArch'^mhittPiard my conduct. .A,girl wba in Ibeibifeneeof her parents, made assignations vrltb'amsh Unknown | to her relations, made pasignatibnt,' 4nd went with him: to a pawnbroker;' Wbatxild he think? Hot the least ebahee of'finding ont. He hastily ate biaaeup, Uatenedtfith half bis mind, to bit motberVreftersted expressions of honor as to the - wiqkedoew of a man named . Joriing, .. fin had deserted hia;wifefor aix.months, then", returned and lived upon her. earnings, apeat 'all tho money aha had, and finally stole all her jewellery—a gold' watoh,and chain and some rings, which had been traced to a pawnbroker's. This was the reaion^ the vWt wfileh had been paid by herself and the'Archdeaconries* under the abadowef Joints legal pinions.. " r
" And ton a otually went Into a pswhbroker'a, mother," arid Louise,' "whitfani/I wfehlhad been wlthypu." ' ' •"1
"Indeed; my" dearitam' at a loia to know what fun there cotdd be ln visiting toeh a plaoe —the resort of criminal* end-fagalxmjlfolevery description," retained Hp. BbbnlgiHiwrij,
"Barely, my Iove,your»elfspd.Jha Arch dBaton's wile cannot be placed in .either oate gtrj," arid the Flofeslor with mildslepreaa tion. ionise and Hester tittered, bat John looked.st impassive as If he ware.a Bphinx in the Lybian Desert. .Did my abnormal iniquity so prey upon hia mind, that like the King of old he would never be seen to smlle sgain? I am afraid I half enjoyed the thought of the way in wbich I would scatter , those gloomy visions if hia by the simple Statement—"That was Die t FifsglbboD — my future brother -la - law. He wae in temporary embarrassment for money
co I (owned my opals, and to-day he went with a «to cedtem them." For I really felt that I n oil offer John an explanation tua time. The opportunity offered itself in the course of the ecenlng. I hid been playing and tinging to " an audlroie composed of the performer," aa Dlek need to express It, when, aa I sang that old patbet'c Sootob ballad,
" s» eet thaUnook'i note and long
lilllliill ^mlly up the glen,
But ay to me he stags ae sang,
1 ye no oome beck again ? Will ye no come book again ? Better lo'ed ye canna be.
Will ye no oome back again?"
I felt rather than aaw that John had oome in and etc od a few pacee behind me. Aa eoon ae I finished the eong I turned round and aaid—
"Ton aaw me to-day at Judah's?"
"I did."
'• I waa grateful that yon aheltered me from your mother'e observation. She would have ben astonished if she had seen me."
" I should eey ehe would rather."
"I daresay you guessed what took me there." "I never gutea."
How I put it to any one whether with the beat intentions in' the world, sueh curt re joinders, coupled with a demeanour cloaely re sembling that of an iceberg In the Arctio Ocean, are not enough to repress the most determined friendlineta. It is all very well to plan a re conciliation and repeat a oonfeasion beforehand, but after ail anticipating a conversation Issome . thing like trying to answer a letter before it is
received. I set quite still, honeatly wishing to explain but quite unable to call up'the neoes aary amount of humility—to eat duet like the serpent as it were. And then Jobn spoke:—
"Isold before thst I have no wish to foroe
your confidence, bnt there is one thing I -muit eay."
He paused, end the beating of my own heart was the only sound I beard. Then John went on, every word dropping from his lips like a separate icicle.
"While your parents are absent yon are supposed to be under my mother's protection, are you not?"
"Tee, I suppose so."
?'Then I ask you in all fairness is it con sistent with your ideas of propriety to make assignations with a young man who is a complete atrapger to her."
" That depends on"
"It depends upon nothing," interrupted John vehemently. " There is nothing to exonse a girl for doing snch a thing.' And to go with him to n pawnbroker's of all place* ia the world. You credited me with gnessing the purport of your visit. What was it?"
" To redeem my opals."
" I thought as muoh. Yet daring the last three or four weeks you have had so little money that you have been obliged to deny yourself all
customary amusements. j
I nude bo rejoinder.
"What conclusions am I to draw lookiog at me with a world of wroth blazing in his eyes.
''Knowing nothing yon will of oonrse think the worst," I answered, looking at him with the fearlessness of injured innoeenoe.
« shall I tell yon what I am foroed to think V add John, with a' sodden calmnessgof manner
which I knew was forced.
"Tee; if it gives yon any satisfaction."
".'Then I think yon are a misguided, over* credtiloua girl, who allows herself to be blinded •nd ddteaby a foolish attachment.?
f maintained an obstinate eilenoe.
" Answer me one more question, Nellie. Do yourpareuts know of jonr engsgement f
" My engagement ? well, it would be an extra-' ordinary thing if they did, seeing I don't know of it myself," and with that I made a clean breast of it. . John's faoe Was'a perleot study; amusement, indignation, and mine other curious expression strove for mastery. When I finished he stood , looking at me for a minute or two without saying a word. "
"Well, yon are.a most distermlned wicksd little minx," lie cried at last, bnt there was a •mile larking round his month. What pleasure could yon find in tortaringme like that ?"
"Torturing you?1' .'
"Tea, oome, Nellie,I'll etand no more non oense. . , Oh, hang yoar letter-writing. Yon don't go out of this room till yon give me an
"Good heavenslhow many more' questions hats yon to ask. xoa're like a osteahlsm and a Eojsl Commission rolled into one." -
" Well, I'll ask only one. Do you know what made me so mad about the pawning business ?
. Now no evasions, NeU—look at me r-ralght in ?
tlpfsee."
. .John was atandlpg beside me now, looking at me In a way that' made my heart beat and my
cheeks flame.
"Shall I tell yon. Nell"—he eald' almost In a whisper, "because, my darling, I love yon."
"Ob, Jack!"
I went to Mrs. Grsntley's ball after all, and danc»d with Jack so often that I am afraid ever; one must have gamed we were engaged.